A spiritual healer observed recently after doing a breathing exercise with me that my throat chakra seemed closed. She explained to me that when the throat chakra is out of balance we have difficulty expressing ourselves.
As I thought about it over the next few days and weeks, I realized how much this resonated with me. It dawned on me that I’ve had one of the most silent years I can ever remember having.
I’ve bypassed several opportunities to present and share my work. My activism has slowed way down. I’ve barely written in this space. I’ve written quite a few things that have gone no further than my desktop. And I’ve spoken with friends and loved ones and not said the things that I really wanted to say. I’ve been undersharing. A lot.
It’s not that I don’t have things to say. It’s not that I haven’t been busy and engaged. It’s just that many of my thoughts seem caught in my head and my words stuck in my throat.
Not good. I’ve gone through times where I’ve lived life out loud and times, like now, where I have retreated. Out loud feels much better. Clamming up feels isolating and disempowering. It’s hard to connect with the rest of the world if you can’t speak your truth. My voice feels like a muscle, much the same as any other in my body. If I don’t use it, it tends to get weaker.
It’s my daughter’s fourteenth birthday today, and she’s away at arts camp. She seems to be having a wonderful time, and for that I’m really grateful.
As a young child she loved being the center of attention, independent, confident, a performer. One of the hardest things about watching her go through her early teen years is watching her lose that – temporarily, I hope. I know that it is not uncommon for girls to lose their voice as they begin the self-awareness that comes with adolescence. It’s a well-documented phenomenon. Suddenly, they become aware that there is an audience out there that may or may not be judging them. They clam up.
She’s still a performer – she loves to act on stage. But she’s become unwilling to act when the words are her own. She’ll write a play or a poem, but she won’t perform it herself. It’s just too much vulnerability. I get it.
I have a friend who points out a neat bird in the woods whenever he doesn’t want to talk about something.
Wow! I just saw a really cool Great Crested Flycatcher out my office window…..