BOWWBLOG #41: When the Voice Falls Silent and the Vision Blurs: A Meditation on Healing in the Dark
WHAT: The Zero Point
For sixteen years, I have defined my role at The TLC Solution through the 4Cs: Consultant, Coach, Capacity Creator, Community Connector. It is how we approach people and organizations—as dynamic, living organisms yearning for wholeness. It is how we pursue our purpose: to co-create one world, well and whole.
But the last two weeks, the 4C has ground to a 0C. Complete halt. Forced pause. The organism needed healing.
It began with complications after cataract surgery on my left eye. Three weeks of unclear vision, a persistent sensation of obstruction, and a gnawing fear that I might lose my sight entirely. When I sought answers, I was met with technical jargon and, worse, a subtle implication that somehow I was to blame. "Why did your eye react that way?" As if my body had betrayed me intentionally. As a meditator of thirty years, I know when my stories are delusional. This time, I fear my feelings are rooted in fact. A second opinion confirmed something was amiss. I await more tests.
At the same time, the Botox injections for my Adductor Spasmodic Dysphonia left me voiceless. For two weeks, I could not speak. My son Amico and I explored Text-to-Speech apps so I could communicate with clients, fulfill my coaching role, and not disappear entirely from the world.
Eye and voice—the very instruments through which I see and speak my truth—simultaneously failing. It is almost too poetic. The throat chakra (Vishuddha), seat of communication and self-expression, rendered silent. The third eye chakra (Ajna), seat of intuition and wisdom, clouded and uncertain. Indigo and blue, dimmed.
I confess: my mind catastrophized. I imagined blindness. Permanent silence. I even found myself wishing for AI caretakers—at least their algorithms are programmed for compassion.
SO WHAT: The Full Catastrophe
In the midst of this, I attended a Zen Sesshin. I cut my five-day retreat short to consult the second specialist, but the three days I had were enough. "Just sitting" (shikantaza) became my anchor. Not focusing on anything. Just awareness of all arising phenomena—no reactions, no resistance, no engagement. Just spaciousness.
On the third sit, my body quivered, and tears began to roll down my face like a waterfall. No sadness. No distress. Just tears. During kinhin (walking meditation) with sixty others, I felt a profound sense of "seeing" and "accepting" reality exactly as it is. Temporary relief, yes. But real.
This is what Jon Kabat-Zinn calls Full Catastrophe Living—a title that once seemed dramatic and now feels like a documentary of my current life. The nine foundational attitudes of mindfulness have become my protective cloak:
· Non-Judging: Watching my fear without labeling it "bad."
· Patience: Trusting that things unfold in their own time.
· Beginner's Mind: Approaching each new symptom with fresh curiosity.
· Trust: Faith in my own intuition, even when experts confuse me.
· Non-Striving: Not trying to "fix" this moment, just being in it.
· Acceptance: Acknowledging that this is my reality right now.
· Letting Go: Releasing the grip on outcomes I cannot control.
· Gratitude: The ground of my being.
· Generosity: Offering presence to myself, even in pain.
These attitudes are not magical. They do not resolve the medical issues or restore my voice. But they shift my relationship to the suffering. And in that shift, I experience glimpses of liberation—freedom from misery, even as the misery persists.
NOW WHAT: A Women's Month Invitation
March is Women's Month. And here I am, stripped of the two faculties I most relied upon: sight and voice. It has forced me to ask: What does it mean to be a woman leader when you cannot see clearly or speak audibly?
Perhaps this is the deeper teaching. Perhaps the feminine wisdom our world so desperately needs is not about doing more, speaking louder, or seeing farther. Perhaps it is about surrendering to not-knowing. About trusting the invisible. About leading from the quiet, intuitive space where the Inner Compass resides—even when the outer eyes are clouded.
The nine attitudes are not just for meditation cushions. They are for hospital waiting rooms. For difficult conversations with specialists. For moments when your body feels like a stranger. For the times when you must lead without a voice.
Your Call to Action:
This Women's Month, I invite you to explore one of these nine attitudes as your own protective cloak. Choose the one that calls most loudly—or most quietly.
1. If you are striving too hard, practice Non-Striving. For one day, do not try to achieve anything. Just be.
2. If you are judging yourself harshly, practice Non-Judging. Notice your inner critic, and simply observe it without engaging.
3. If you are afraid of the unknown, practice Trust. Listen to your intuition—that quiet voice beneath the fear.
4. If you are resisting reality, practice Acceptance. Say to yourself: "This is what is, right now. And I am still here."
5. If you feel depleted, practice Gratitude. Name three things—however small—that you can genuinely appreciate.
The body may fail. The voice may falter. The vision may blur. But the Inner Compass—that still, small voice of wisdom and compassion—cannot be taken from you. It is the source of true leadership. It is the wellspring of wholeness.
And from that place, we can still co-create one world, well and whole. Even in the dark. Even in the silence.
-Susan Grace Rivera
Posted on: February 28, 2026
Our First Friday Forum for Women’s Month is entitled “Grit, Grace, and Growth: Women Leading Through Complex Times”.
Register here and Join the Conversation: https://www.thetlcsolution.com/tlc-first-friday-forum-f3
We do invite you to be formal members in our TLC Community and explore which of our “7 Pillars of wHEW” (Wholistic Health and Wellbeing) you’d like to do a deeper dive on!
Be a member here: https://www.thetlcsolution.com/registration-page
