Let your true voice sing

This past week has been particularly eye-opening and challenging. Along with all the other changes going on in my world now, just in time for darkness to reign supreme and for thoughts to turn even deeper inward, my world was rocked by some well-timed messages speaking directly to my soul. Call it a cosmic two-by-four, if you will.

Literally everything has been about the throat chakra (vishuddha) and jalandara bandha (“throat lock”): A yoga class, some well-placed readings, situations where I need to remove the blockage and let my words flow, a reminder to “speak ye little and listen much,” and a gift of lapis lazuli.

A photo posted by Stephanie Fox (@letitproducejoy) on Sep 24, 2015 at 6:56am PDT

Like, seriously, okay… I got the hint. ;)

The vishuddha is the body’s voice, a pressure valve which expresses energy from the other chakras. If blocked or out of balance, it can easily affect the health of all other chakras; in balance, it allows for the easy expression of what we think and feel. Personal truths are brought into the world, and the energy between body and spirit flows freely and easily.

This concept lends strongly to being impeccable with your word, a lesson learned from don Miguel Ruiz in The Four Agreements. The most difficult agreement we can make with ourselves -- and the one we must make in order to make the others -- is to allow ourselves to acknowledge and honor the power of the word, both internally and externally. Being impeccable leads to personal responsibility; every word you say holds the power to create the world around you, including within yourself. As a force for expression and communication, one must begin with powerful, positive words towards one’s self; only when we do that can we project those powerful, positive words to those around us.

I’ve been told multiple times my vishuddha is blocked or underactive. I guess I need to start believing it. ;) Most people pick up relatively quickly that I’m not one to speak my mind except when vitally important, reserving myself instead to burying those thoughts. And yes, part of it is strictly my nature; I’m an internal thinker, rarely sharing what goes on in my head. What they don’t know is the reason why.

When I was younger, I was very shy, quiet, and highly empathetic. The moniker “mighty mouse,” given to me by an elementary school teacher and carried with me through most of my life (much like “giggles,” ha), applies more than just to being strong when small, but to my quiet nature, too.

I learned very early on that speaking up meant potentially starting conflict, something I absolutely loathed, and experiencing situations where my voice was drowned or tuned out. Instead of rocking the proverbial boat, I’d either swallow my feelings or apologize and back down when I did say something in disagreement with another. Emotions, thoughts, ideas, and so forth were all pushed down in favor of nodding in mock agreement and going with the flow. This was reinforced as I grew older and through certain life situations, and eventually, I started to really believe my thoughts weren’t worth hearing.

With time -- and especially recently -- these “negative” emotions blocked up any opportunity to express the “positive” emotions, leaving me unable to speak any words at all. Sure, I appear very jovial on the surface, and by and large, I really am. But I’m admittedly terrible at communicating pretty much anything, reserving my word instead for the benefit of others rather than to express my opinions and thoughts freely.

As a result, there have been several times when refusing or finding it impossible to speak my truth created a personal reality that, quite honestly, holds little water compared to what actually exists. Inevitably, it’s led to a lack of confidence, assurance, and self-love.

So, as the bruise from being whacked so hard with that two-by-four subsides, I’m determined to create my own reality from the ground up, to acknowledge that which actually exists and state it in a way that makes me believe it. It also means shifting from “I’m not worth hearing, so best to keep quiet” to “I may not speak much, and that’s okay, but when I do, I am worth hearing.” A distinct shift towards conscious confidence, even if it’s faked at first: Much like smiling, it eventually becomes second nature.

It takes a confident person to express themselves honestly, openly, and lovingly. I’m not in control of how others deal with my personal expression (and I need to let go that anyone’s opinions or feelings are more important than my own), but I am entirely responsible for creating my own reality through the power of my words, and that means being responsible for and impeccable with my own sense of confidence.

And really, I owe it to myself.

I’m ready to speak up, to open my vishuddha, to create the confidence I should have to create the reality I will come to learn I deserve. The truth about truth is, if you don’t express it, you continue to enable that which doesn’t feel good or right.

Time to open my goddamn mouth once in awhile. :)

Positive Affirmation: I speak freely and with confidence. It is now safe for me to express my feelings and to create the life I desire. Everything I do is an expression of Love.

Once in a blue moon.

Last night, as the sun sighed itself to sleep, fireflies took its place to light up the night, and frogs warbled their haunting yet titillating mating song, I shot the moon.

What can I say? It was calling to me, crooning a love song that rivaled the beauty of the frogs' sex-swept serenade as I walked back from the mailbox. Such a simple action, gazing at the moon, but for some reason, I was enraptured. Seduced. And I needed to capture it.

@letitproducejoy

The moon wasn't quite full yet; when I zoom in, I can see the craggy surface piercing the night sky where darkness still clings to the edges by its fingertips. It's a bit creepy, really, seeing all but that tiny sliver of a shadow, a sure indication that something is not quite complete and there's still a faint hint of the unknown.

Perhaps it's appropriate, then, that I shot the moon a couple nights before Lughnasadh, marking the first harvest of the year. Those in tune with nature have likely sensed the waning daylight and the wind of change in the air, despite the summer heat and... if you live anywhere near where I do, the stagnant humidity that envelops you the moment you walk out the door.

But change, it really is a-comin'! And with Sagittarius right on its heels, that change is likely to push some boundaries and force us to fly higher than we have before. Though the season really is slowing down, there's a sense of urgency in the atmosphere, an optimism and a fire that pushes for action.

I like to think of this particular Lughnasadh, considering it coincides with a blue moon (a phenomenon that occurs every 2.5 years or so), as a time to chase after dreams and make them bigger than I ever thought possible, even if the end result is hidden from view. By taking my first step into a new career, and as I settle in and create a niche for myself in my new role and really engage with my new work family, it feels like the fire has been ignited, burning more brightly than it ever has before.

Tomorrow marks the opening of a window of opportunity and the time for taking leaps of faith just as we reap the benefits of what was sown in spring. To that end, The Fool comes into play with vigor this sabbat, bringing his gifts of risk-taking, purity, and potential.

I'm not a particularly controlling or Type A person; many people would tell me I'm actually quite terrible when I try feigning anything of the sort. The Fool still makes me a bit uncomfortable, though, with his laissez-faire attitude, blissful ignorance, and sense of wonder even in the face of danger (I mean, the guy is right on a precipice; no way would I consider doing that). What a fool, indeed; doesn't he realize there are rules, one of which is "don't stand at the edge of a cliff, lest you hurl yourself over it?"

(Yes. I made that up. It's one of my rules, though.)

I mean, seriously, look at this flighty bastard.

But I admit, I'm jealous of him, too. Without a care in the world, a single shit to give... he lives for the day, whatever it brings. I find that, while I certainly hold the same attitude to a degree, I prefer to hang back, sometimes simply enjoying the scene unfolding instead of actively participating in it.

This blue moon Lughnasadh is the perfect opportunity to step outside that comfort zone, be thankful for what you've achieved, and almost step directly in the fire to experience its warmth and, yes, maybe even some heat, potentially to the point of getting burned. "You only live once," after all, so make it a damn good one. Grasp your carnelian, anoint yourself with sandalwood, enjoy the gathering  of and feasting on apples and grains and berries*, and embolden yourself by taking a fucking chance on something. Anything!

The Earth is winding down, thankfully taking its sweet time to usher out summer for a much colder period. As this happens, I plan on taking a life lesson from The Fool and light that flame within me, in the hopes it preserves me and to keeps my belly full of delicious, salacious fiery passion.

I hope, this beautiful turn of the year, you find your heat, too.

A photo posted by Stephanie Fox (@letitproducejoy) on Jul 26, 2015 at 2:15pm PDT

*Did I mention, I made this beautiful pie this past week? Twice, even! Keeping the fire in the belly and the heat in the kitchen, clearly. Recipe below. :)

Mixed Berry Pie with Homemade Pie Crust

Ingredients

Crust:
2.5 cups all-purpose flour
1/4 tsp salt
1 cup cold butter, cubed
6 to 8 Tbsp ice water

Filling:
1 cup sugar
1/4 cup cornstarch
dash salt
1/3 cup water
1/2 tsp ground cinnamon
1 cup fresh blueberries
1 cup fresh raspberries
1 cup halved fresh strawberries
3/4 cup blackberries
1 Tbsp lemon juice
2 Tbsp butter, melted

Method

In a large bowl, mix flour and salt. Cut in butter until crumbly. Gradually add ice water, tossing with a fork until dough holds together when pressed. Divide dough into two portions so one is slightly larger than the other. Shape each into a disk, wrap in plastic wrap, and refrigerate for an hour or overnight.

For filling, in a large saucepan, whisk sugar, cornstarch, salt, water, and cinnamon until smooth; add blueberries. Bring to a boil, and cook and stir two minutes or until thickened. Cool slightly.

Preheat oven to 400°. Gently fold raspberries, strawberries, and blackberries into blueberry mixture. Add lemon juice and mix until well combined.

On a lightly floured surface, roll out the larger portion of dough into a circle 1/8" thick. Transfer to a nine-inch pie plate. Add filling.

Roll remaining dough into a circle 1/8" thick, then cut into 1/2"-wide strips. (I used a pizza cutter!) Arrange over filling in a lattice pattern; trim strips and bottom pastry to 1/2" past the pie plate, then seal strips with bottom pastry and flute edge. Brush top of pie with melted butter. Bake for 10 minutes.

Reduce oven to 350° and continue to bake for 45-50 minutes or until crust is golden brown and filling is bubbly. Cool on a wire rack.

Indigo Children and the "Don't Say No" generation

via

Everyone wants to think their child is special, out of the ordinary, even gifted. Often, these terms are attached to children by way of their parents, who would like the rest of the world to see their children the same way and to treat them accordingly.

Bet you all can tell where this post is going! :)

I've been informed recently by a friend that there is such thing in the New Age community as Indigo Children, defined as children believed to possess special, unusual, and sometimes supernatural traits or abilities. The term, coined in the 1970s by self-professed psychic Nancy Ann Tappe, comes from her supposed ability to see auras and her noticing that those born after around 1978 exhibit what she called "indigo auras". Some traits of indigo children include thing like:

1. They are born feeling and knowing they are special and should be revered.
2. An indigo knows they belong here as they are and expect you to realize it as well.
3. These children are more confident and have a higher sense of self-worth.
4. Absolute authority, the kind with no choices, negotiation, or input from them does not sit well. The educational system is a good example.
5. Some of the rules we so carefully followed as children seem silly to them and they fight them. Rigid ritualistic systems are considered archaic to an indigo child. They feel everything should be given creative thought.
6. They are insightful and often have a better idea of method then what has been in place for years. This makes them seem like "system busters."
7. Adults often view an indigo as anti-social unless they are with other indigos. Often they feel lost and misunderstood, which causes them to go within.
8. The old control methods like, "Wait till your father gets home," have no affect on these children.
9. The fulfillment of their personal needs is important to them, and they will let you know.

(via...  yeah, highly reputable source, right there)

It should be noted that, according to Tappe, at least 90% of children under the age of ten are, in fact, indigo children.

It comes as no surprise to most people that I'm not one of your typical New Agers (and yes, in some ways, I do fit this mold), notably in that I am a strong proponent of rationalism, the scientific method, and the academic establishment. While there are some philosophies that rub me the wrong way, most of them are harmless, and affect no one but the believer (and maybe that person's faithful followers).

The idea of "indigo children" in particular really gets my goat. I get that people want to think that their children are special; shit, I'm guilty of wanting that once in a while. Placing the moniker "indigo child" on them, though, seeks to separate them from their peers, notably because of unproven "abilities" or "traits" that, in reality, are byproducts of being children.

In designating children as "indigo", parents willingly and blindly believe that their child is special not only to them, but to the entire world, and thus deserving of myriad rewards by society as a whole. In other words, it creates a sense of entitlement.

Let's take the original list, for instance. There are at least five instances of entitlement in that list alone, not the least of which are "knowing they are special and should be revered" and "they will let you know" that "the fulfillment of their personal needs is important to them". Most of these traits are exhibited in children as young as my own, and he's not even two yet. By their very nature, children are entitled little demons people.

The bad thing isn't noticing these traits, but treating them as something that sets them apart from their peers, something to be encouraged. It creates a generation of, to be quite frank, incredibly bratty children and permissive parents.

Indigo children and "yes-parenting", I've noticed, tend to go hand-in-hand. You know those types of parents: They say their children are expressing themselves through scissors if they cut through your laptop charger, that they're precocious and curious about things if they rifle through and destroy the contents of your purse, that they're outgoing if they jump all over your furniture and torture the dog. There's no discipline, no rules, and most of all... no criticism or repercussions of their special snowflake's actions.

Matt and I are quintessential "no" parents (him more so than me, I'll admit). Saying "no" to children isn't a bad thing; rather, it teaches children important lessons such as how to deal with disappointment, time management, work-play balance, and the art of the argument. You can ask my parents how well the last one in particular went over in their experience!

Saying "no" is especially appropriate for younger children, notably because they have no sense of self-discipline and need it from outside sources... the parents! Discipline has be relabeled instead as "Positive Guidance" to deter parents away from the negative connotation that "discipline" brings with it, but the idea is the same: To guide a child with gentle discipline, acknowledging the child's feelings, and letting them know that "no" is not a four-letter word.

Your children may be special to you, but on the whole, your children are not special to the world. Treating them as such does a great disservice both to them and to society, who has to then deal with grown adults who are incapable of and unwilling to self-discipline themselves, instead seeing the world as their oyster and how dare anyone get in their ways.

...

On another note, having to do with misplaced labeling of children: It concerns me that parents are willing to tack on the title of "indigo child" to children who may in fact have a disorder such as ADD/ADHD, autism, or even narcissism, and who let them go without treatment appropriate to that disorder. I understand that these other labels are medical and scary and, on a New Age level, negative... I get that. It's far more appealing to call them a more positive-sounding "indigo child" and just let them be.

But doing this delays or even prevents proper diagnosis and treatment, and is to their detriment.

(And don't even get me started on Jenny McCarthy's involvement, what with her "crystal child" and her being an "indigo mom" and other such malarkey.)

So please, talk to your doctor if your child appears to have signs or symptoms that point to such a disorder or with any other concerns. You may be doing your child a great disservice refusing treatments that may help him or her lead a normal life.