This is Vishuddha, my creative superhero, and her devoted dog, Liza, who understands the importance of play and unconditional love.
Named after the throat chakra, which is associated with issues of communication, self-expression and finding one’s voice, Vishuddha is cloaked in royal blue, the color of creativity, and wears a jeweled tiara that protects her third eye.
Vishuddha opposes all critics who paralyze artists, but her mortal enemy is the cruel and fearsome Whip Lady, who often shows up when you least expect her, blocking the way to the artistic path with taunts and threats of failure and public humiliation, and a large watch that ticks loudly to convince artists that their efforts are simply a waste of time.
Fortunately, Vishuddha has various ways to combat such diabolical enemies.
In one hand, Vishuddha carries a mirrored shield that reflects and echoes unhelpful, fear- or envy-based criticism back to her enemies with such ferocious intensity that they eventually go up in a burst of flames. In her other hand Vishuddha carries a hula hoop that has the ability to spin a protective, sound-proof cocoon that gives artists the safe space they need to do their work. On her back, Vishuddha has wings decorated with examples of art, music and literature. These change depending on Vishuddha’s mood and the needs and influences of the artist that she is aiding. Today, her wings are covered with images of Chagall paintings; sheet music from the musical Cabaret; a copy of Mary Oliver’s poem Wild Geese; and excerpts from Faulkner’s Sound and the Fury; Virginia Woolf’s A Room of One’s Own; and Anne Morrow Lindbergh’s Gift From the Sea. These wings allow Vishuddha to lift artists to great heights from which they gain courage and perspective.
On her feet, Vishuddha wears figure skates—it’s no accident that her blades are called “Vision”—that allow her to glide quickly and gracefully in and out of situations where she’s needed, distracting critics with her joyful spinning and jumping until they are so dizzy they can no longer function. If necessary, she can also use her skates as weapons—she throws a mean kick, and those toe-picks are sharp. Then Liza herds them into a corner, keeping them at bay while the artist continues on his or her journey, leaving Vishuddha to deal with them as she sees fit.