When the Voice Goes Quiet: A Lesson in Listening

There are moments when the body gently whispers… and then there are moments when it takes your voice entirely.

For a couple of days, mine was gone. and on the New Moon in Aries …

No chanting.
No full expression.
No ease in speaking the way I’m used to, especially in the work that I do.

And with that came something I didn’t expect: fear.

Fear of not being able to show up.
Fear of scarcity.
Fear of losing momentum.

Normally, spring is the season for: Migraines. Sinus (thanks Daddy, lol) + ENT issues. The shifts in barometric pressure that seem to take everything down with them… and all the layers that come along with that.

My annual laryngitis came differently.

No symptoms.
No warning.
No slow build into what was coming.

Just… silence and the shift of seasons… the rain… + the quiet unraveling that comes with change.

The Space of the Throat

In yoga, the throat chakra—Vishuddha Chakra—is the center of communication, truth, and expression.

It governs how we speak… but also how we listen.

And when that space becomes strained, blocked, or quieted, it’s often an invitation… not a punishment.

An invitation to pause.
To reflect.
To realign with what is true.

The New Moon in Aries on the 17th arrived with the energy of initiation— a spark, a beginning, a call to move forward.

Aries is bold.
Expressive.
Unapologetically outward.

And yet… Here I was, in silence.

Instead of speaking things into existence, I was being asked to sit with them.

Instead of initiating outward action, I was drawn inward—into reflection.

A different kind of fire.

Not one that burns outward… but one that refines.

And while this spring has still had its challenges, it has been so much better than years past. <3

Because I’m listening to my body now.

I can feel the growth in how I care for myself:

• how I respond sooner

• how I soften instead of push

• how I no longer let myself reach the point of depletion

I still practiced yoga… but I modified.

I dialed it back.
I softened the edges.

I turned toward meditation.
I chose silence over sound.
I didn’t chant… not because I didn’t want to, but because I needed to preserve what was asking to be healed.

There’s something deeply revealing about not being able to speak.

You begin to notice… how much we fill space with words.

• How often we talk just to talk.

• And how rarely we sit in true listening.

Without my voice, my awareness shifted.

The throat chakra isn’t only about expression outward, it’s about integrity between what we feel, what we think, and what we say. And sometimes, the most honest thing we can do… is become quiet enough to hear ourselves clearly.

The body is not working against us. It’s always working for us.

• Even when it disrupts our plans.

• Even when it asks us to pause.

• Even when it takes something away—like our voice.

Maybe especially then.

If you find yourself in a moment where something feels off, slowed down, or taken away…

Before rushing to fix it—> pause.

Listen.

Ask yourself:
What truth is asking to come through me? …and just as importantly… What needs to be heard within me?

Sometimes renewal isn’t loud.
It isn’t expressive.
It isn’t outward.

Sometimes…

• It’s quiet.

• It’s internal.

• It’s a return.

And sometimes, it sounds like silence.

A Note of Gratitude

And to my students—those whose classes I had to cancel so I could rest and preserve my voice.. thank you.

Thank you for your understanding, your grace, + your continued support.

It doesn’t go unnoticed, and it means more than you know.

Be you. Be ALL of you.

Cheley ‧₊˚ 🪷 . 𓂃