Increasingly, I’m confused. When friends get together, the main points of discussion seem to focus on illness, relationship break ups, horrible things that happen in the grocery store, lack of hope for world peace, political craziness, or the completely strange behavior of children or parents.

I get tired when I scan Facebook, overhear conversations on the street, or read just about anything. “There’s nothing we can do!” is repeated as if it were obvious and reassuring. It’s a terrible world! Let’s live in it together. In other words, most talk seems to be about hopelessness that only we and our friends understand, ad nauseam.

In fact, the other day, a friend shared this quotation: “A fundamental sign of mental health is one’s realization that life is hard.”— Scott Peck.

I answered this, being me, with, “That’s a depressing quote.” To which someone replied, “But life is hard…” I left the conversation at this point, but have to ask isn’t “hard” a decision? An interpretation? If “life is hard,” what is the opposite? “Easy?” Then what is an “easy” life? Does it mean never having to/choosing to do anything? Most of Scott Peck’s quotations are simply challenging, such as “We cannot solve life’s problems except by solving them.” But I digress.

From the stage, a speaker “earns the right” to share with their audience through telling them about the bankruptcy, accident, or divorce. In a group we scorn the word “perfect,” which, if you’ve been following these conversations, you know I actually like (Perfect). In fact, we would rather wallow in our imperfections. Maybe we also wallow in assuming things are hard because it precludes action. It implies that addressing issues is ultimately useless.  Family drama is the norm. Many (most?) churches focus on sin and the sinful rather than on joy and redemption.

Of course, when we meet each other, it’s “How are you?” “Fine. You?” “Fine.” Although “fine” isn’t true most of the time. In the case of “fine” as a false response, in addition to our really not being fine (whatever that means), we’re lying to our bodies, our minds, and those we meet, which is another post for another time. Did I say I was confused? It’s not that I’m doubting that any of the above is true. I don’t know anyone happy with our current politics. I’m sure your mother’s behavior is incredibly frustrating.

But what would happen if we just said “hi” on the street and leave it at that —unless we knew the person we met and really wanted to know how they were? Or answered the question of “how are you?” as a friend of mine does. “How are  you?” “Partly cloudy with a chance of showers.” Or, as I  usually do, with silence and a smile.

What would happen if, while admitting our “not being fine,” instead of claiming it as our primary identity, we described the ways we’ve made it to the other side of the negative or asked for help in seeing how the apparently negative could be a possibility? What if the problems were presented as a chance to share job opportunities or to explore new ways to deal with your “difficult” mother?

As another example maybe one can say “cancer survivor” when talking about someone. But what if that person’s preferred identity is one who rejoices in flowers or who has discovered new cooking techniques, or who has set a new record in the javelin throw? And had also, by the way, survived cancer.

One reason I’m confused is that I know I dismiss some of this. “You really were life threateningly sick,” my doctor scolded me. “Oh,” I answered. And I think he’s right. I need to claim that part of my life even though I’d rather forget it. I joke, although I’m actually serious, that when I “earn the right” to share onstage, my line is that people can choose what “D” they need for me to expand for them. Death, divorce, disease, debt, degrees, depression, decadence, debauchery, even, perhaps, desires…, etc. But what I want to share and so “claim” to “earn the right” is the excitement, joy, and achievement on the other side. No, not on the “other side,” but as part of every side.

Because a major piece of our mandate to change the world involves daring to hope that it will change. Yes, I understand, that for some of you, that seems almost impossible. (You might want to reread our first conversation for a vision of why it’s not impossible.) But take the risk. Hope involves daring to see that something not only will and can change, but is changing. And this gives it space and direction in which to continue to change for the better.

The mandate is to dare to claim joy and excitement now.

So “How are you?” “Well, my knee hurts sometimes, but I’ve been swimming almost every day; I have a couple of new ideas on things to share with Spirit Moxie; I’ve met some new friends; I’ve started a new Facebook page; and I’ve had some chances to cook again.”

You?

_________________________
Photos from the top:

Fish — Spirit Moxie
Rusted Cars — David A. Lynch
Abandoned — David A. Lynch

Continuing the conversation on Just Be.

There are hundreds of books and websites on walking the labyrinth. They include meditations and prayers to use while you’re walking. Most extol the benefits of “using” a labyrinth. I haven’t read or watched any of them.

But I have been told somewhere that walking a traditional labyrinth (one that is actually a path that goes to the center as opposed to a maze), is a useful practice. So I walk them whenever I get a chance, even if I’m not sure why.

A few days ago I found myself with a free afternoon in San Francisco and headed to Grace Cathedral where there are two labyrinths, one inside and one outside. As I’ve been deliberately going where my body and the moment want to take me I wasn’t surprised that, while I headed toward Chinatown, I ended up at the cathedral. Plus I was tired of walking so just sat for awhile after I got there. But I’d promised myself that I’d walk the labyrinths, so I slowly started on the beautiful inside one.

Just being. Quickly I learned that if I didn’t look without distraction at each step as I took it, I’d get off the path. The path wasn’t that wide and certainly not that straight. Even regular walking became too active. The only way around the turns was taking baby steps. Watching each one. So, as I walked, it actually didn’t matter where I was going. Or if I were going anywhere. The important part became each step. And whenever my mind wandered (which of course it did, being human and all), I found the wandering didn’t work. There was a sense that I was missing something by worrying or planning. What was missing was my actual experience of the steps. That process was what was important and interesting.

Sometimes when I looked up I was almost at the center, but then the path curved away. And then came a wider turn or a long straight stretch. Step by step. Suddenly I did find myself in the center. But while that was, in a way, exciting and fulfilling, it was also only temporary. Again, it was step by step leading where? Oh, I knew it was to the exit. And it looked a few times as if I were almost there. And then suddenly I was.

Outside, half the labyrinth was in shadow, and as I’d already walked one, I found myself noticing other things as I continued step by step. First, anywhere I stopped was perfect. A lily-shaped flower. Tourists engaged in that random, but deliberate, curiosity tourists seem to have. Seeing my shadow. Had I already reached the center? I didn’t think so, but really couldn’t remember. Just keep going step by step. Ah, here it is. I sat on the ground for a while. Because I could? But then I had to get up, and again, it was step by step to the exit.

So what does this have to do with Spirit Moxie? Somehow it was the strength of trusting the path and that my steps were going in the right direction without my really knowing what that goal or destination might be.

I suggest you try it. You don’t need a labyrinth.  Go to the park or even a city sidewalk and just walk. See what you see. Go where you go. Be. You.

_______________________________

Information on Grace Cathedral’s Labyrinths

All photos by Spirit Moxie: from the top
inside Labyrinth, Grace Cathedral, San Francisco
Outside Labyrinth, Grace Cathedral, San Francisco
A flower on the cathedral grounds
Shadow of author on outside labyrinth

I’m so confused.

I’m talking to a guy who showed up in my life out of nowhere and helped me through the month of hospitalization that ended 2016, adapted to my commitment to not own a car, and introduced me to the worlds of music and basic hippiedom that existed as parallel universes while I was growing up. And while his showing up (magic?) was confusing by itself, my questions were more about the call to be less than present (too active) or even mindful, but to exist without being driven by plans or expectations. I just seemed to be called to simply be. I think he and I both found that confusing.

For the past few years I have learned that our bodies often know better than our minds as to what is good for us and who we are called to be. Our bodies certainly remember traumas and, I think, celebrations. Our minds are full of societal expectations and the basic survival responses of fight or flight.

We become doctors or lawyers to please our parents. In my case, I found myself majoring in Classical languages because my mother taught Latin, even though I’m terrible at learning languages. I think my mother even played with being a writer. Certainly identifying myself as a writer is currently making a lot of sense to me. But it is through our bodies that we somehow know the truth of how and what we are called to be. Often our bodies react by getting sick, gaining weight, or creating other problems if we don’t pay attention to our calling but instead run after the societal demands of the mind.

This is a lengthy way of explaining that when I fell down for no reason in late 2015, my only explanation was that my body wanted my attention. When this happened, I was called to just be so as to help the mild concussion I received from the fall heal. I wrote about it in Moxie and Miracles.

The year following the fall I did things like sell possessions and get coaching in presenting and sharing Spirit Moxie and talked a lot about the importance of being present. Then
cancer (a rare form of leukemia) showed up and again my only option was to “just be.” Every time I pushed forward into action, or even pursued what for me was the simple act of being present, I landed back in the hospital.

So this time I’m paying attention for the long term and working on just being. I don’t want to know what will happen to me if I don’t pay attention this time to the call to just be. But interestingly, a surprising amount happens when you stay in this “just being” place. Earlier today, almost all my bills got paid and I had a very fruitful time with homework for a class on stock options (no clue why I’m called on this one, but I am having fun, which is enough). But right now I’m sipping on a latte waiting for a friend to show up in a couple of hours. Yes, hours. Oh, and I’m typing this between odd computer games and just looking out the window.

Of course questions arise. My coach (I recommend you find one) asked me what I was still sure about. My immediate answer was that I’m still sure about the vision of Spirit Moxie, the vision that we can change the world if we dare claim the little things we do. I’m also sure that all that happened in 2016 is somehow right if I allow it to be. (You can read about my fairly chaotic year in Dream updates I – and II.)

I’m also noticing what is changing. For instance my morning meditation practice has become more fluid, and a bit inconsistent. The pattern for years has been acknowledge my body, give thanks for at least 5 things that happened the day before, identify what actions I’ll take for Spirit Moxie, review what should happen for the day, and drift into more conventional meditation practices with visioning and letting go.

Four years ago, I explored Danielle LaPorte’s Desire Map idea and identified for myself “creative,” “connected,” “adventurous,” and “light” as the core feelings that feed me. But now I am wondering if those are still true or too active or ????

Basically I am practicing living moment to moment, which is incredibly hard since, like almost everyone else, I’m wired to plan and accomplish “things.” However, when I get it right, as much or more happens than did before I made a conscious effort to “just be” moment to moment.

When I share this concept, some people seem to get defensive. Responses include:

  ”I can’t do that, I have too many obligations.”

  “Oh, yes, that is being present.” [When I just said it wasn’t]

  “I don’t have the time.” [Stay tuned for more information on a completely different relationship with time.]

  “Well that’s easy.” [Maybe it is for them.]

So, breathe. In. Out. And listen to what you are saying, either audibly or in your mind, and thank your thoughts for sharing. Just be and see what the next moment holds.

My friend is still a bit bemused by the whole idea of “being,” although he can see that it works by watching me.

How about you? Confused? Intrigued? Experiences?

____________________________

All photos by Spirit Moxie

From the top:
A small part of the “guy’s” CD collection
Injury from fall
View from hospital room
Computer “wallpaper” with personal Desire Map words

In September 2016, a few months before the United States election, I was at a seminar in Los Angeles. I’d been to others by these presenters and asked one of the people managing the event if either Charlie or Jeremy, two black men with similar builds, were there. At earlier events one or the other had provided me with major support. The two joke about the confusion that arises when they work together (I look forward to that!), but basically, they had provided me with a safety net on previous occasions. The response I got to my question from the event manager was, “No, but our team is still diverse.” What? Kinda stunned I walked away.

At this same event I talked with a white guy who wanted to improve his appeal to women. Only traditional masculine images worked for him, though. My suggestions of sensitivity or vulnerability as good male traits were met with his scorn and superiority.

As examples of what is going on in America, and maybe the world, these incidents seem perfect. I didn’t respond to the assumption regarding race. I did confront the sexist guy, but didn’t seem to have the right words. But confrontation and right words are what we need right now.

For, no matter how you voted (if you’re in the US), you made electing Trump possible. It is our world that hasn’t figured out the distinctiveness, equality, and friendship of race. Or the implications of diverse backgrounds. It is our world that has many white males and those who live within those strictures so insecure that they relish what they see as permission to lash out sexually and racially. They seem to need images of white male dominance, and to be blind to the positive promises of change and inclusion. We’ve all been living with people who have these viewpoints and have blithely ignored them, not recognizing them as our friends and neighbors, relatives and acquaintances, the guy on the corner or in line at the store.

And even that last bit on white males is sexist. The other day I was at a party with a proud Trump supporter. One of our nice liberal white males made a sexist remark (“Oh, I was only kidding.”). and it was the supporter who sternly called him on it.

So I’d like to suggest that we are all called to action. We have, if you will, been handed a wake-up call, a call to healing, to address rather than ignore the “isms.”  To name and address, perhaps with love, whatever it is that made this a sexist, racist country. Surely, the world isn’t like that—although any person of color can tell you racism is alive and well, and in someways worse than before because we’re embarrassed by it, and it should have gone away. So don’t make excuses for yourself or your friends. Act.

There are, for the purposes of this conversation, three components of this action.

1. Give up the us vs them orientation no matter how that helps you define who you are. Claim your personal responsibility for a sexist/racist nation. Acknowledge your own tendency to identify as not like someone else (someone who did or didn’t vote for Trump, a conservative, a liberal, gun supporter). Be willing to be with those not like you. Being anti-Trump does not make you superior to those who see things differently. It doesn’t give you the right to make fun of them. It does give you the right to engage, to try to see how their view works, and to share why you see things the way you do. I can have fun at a recent party where every one seemed to be talking ageism (which I did call them on). And sexism, too, which I didn’t call them on, since most of the comments were made by wives about their husbands. (“Men always….”)
2. Don’t give visibility to the superficial actions of those you don’t agree with. (Those Trump jokes only promote him. However much it makes you feel better to share when someone says or does or looks incredibly stupid or scary, remember this gives them more visibility and power. Every time. It’s what they want. Your feeling clever helps their cause.) Do respond to the appropriate places when political action and support is called for. If you’re even a little politically active, start engaging and confronting your various national and local political representatives, no matter what their party, when they have decisions to make. You are still their constituency. When they do things you favor, applaud. If you are politically clueless (this would be me), this is a time to let your more politically minded friends suggest low stress, but
   effective, ways to act. So, march. Call the line that goes only to an answering machine. Find multiple sources to check facts and confirm what is going on — and let people know, gently, when the facts don’t match.
3. Do things outside or your comfort zone, at least a little. Politically, but also personally. And continue to support and continue to pursue your passions whatever they are. This is your—no, this is our—time to change ourselves and the world in which we live. The party I attended was a little uncomfortable for me, but clearly was where I was supposed to be for all of us. And while I smiled at the neighborhood story of five white women going for drinks at a local club they thought was almost always black (“Are we the largest number of white people who have been here at one time?”), I think this was their response to confronting diversity and was actually incredibly brave.

Everywhere I go I can be only the older, white, heterosexual, Christian woman I am. My goal is to be in a lot of places where there is at least a mix. I’m lucky in that I walk in mixed situations often and am finding that people want to engage person to person. But as I write this I’m in a coffee shop across town (hey, wifi and warmth while I wait for a friend). One person here has slightly darker skin than the rest, but I think I add to the diversity in that I am a bit older than most here, but playing with my electronics with the best of them. Perhaps my just noticing and naming it to myself is enough.

At the seminar I mentioned at the beginning of this post, one of the women assisting wore a hijab. Having someone identifying herself this way and just interacting like everyone else was a first for me. I did say how grateful I was that she was there. But all the time, I wondered if I were being racist or politically incorrect. Welcome to the learning curve. Welcome to the challenge of the day to day possibility of healing our world.

What have you seen, what are you doing, and how did you react? Game on.

Postscript:

It has taken me a long time to write this conversation. Another post on the excuses and what I’m learning will be coming “soon.”

The idea of “ageism” has been highlighted for me through the incredible work of Dr. Christiane Northrup who suggests that our extreme focus on age as a number allows our bodies to internalize the social conventions associated with that number. For additional insights read her reflections on the increasing number of healthy centenarians contributing to our world. (Used with permission.)

I’ve resisted adding multiple, in my eyes brilliant, pieces on the current situation in the U.S. But you’re free to share them in the comments!

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Illustrations from the top:
Who’s to Blame wheel — Sheryl Samuels Greenfield
What you do does matter! — Spirit Moxie
Women’s March on Washington Cincinnati — Gary Templeton

One important lesson I’m learning is that you need to listen to your body and the signs the Universe provides as you move forward. Listen to your heart.

While I realize all this is very touchy-feely, I have some concrete examples. For instance the Universe sometimes shows up in the form of technology—my phone, the internet, my computer. These devices usually support me beautifully. But sometimes one (or all!) of them just, simply, stops working. Now I have friends who think the Universe is out to get them when that happens, but personally I’ve found it almost always means that I need to simply stop doing whatever it was I was doing. Usually it means I should go to bed! A minute ago the electricity went out (an extreme example), which I took to mean, “Go to the library. You write better there, remember?” So right now I’m writing in the library, and I just received a text from my housemate confirming that the electricity is already back on.

Earlier this year I said my dreams for 2016 were for ongoing support and unexpected adventures. “Dream” was the mantra, and the focus behind mine was for freedom and community. Only a month later, I posted an update and had even shared some goals, albeit reluctantly.

My friend the Universe, if I choose to claim her as such, had freed me from a lot of belongings and challenged me to seriously think of moving to another city and form more concretely the possibilities for Spirit Moxie. So I moved in with a friend (support), seriously explored Portland and Seattle as possible places to live (adventure), and began taking some classes to solidify the work of Spirit Moxie (support and adventure). Actually the whole year has been one of support and adventure with new friends, reconnections, and the travel I love.

And frustration. While miracles continued to occur and things moved forward, the actual manifestation of “here’s a perfect place/room to move to” never happened.

Oh, for weeks my meditation time ended with an image of me walking a beach. And in July, on my birthday eve, I did find myself walking over intricate sand patterns and through tide pools on the Oregon coast.  As part of my exploration of Oregon, my friend Julie decided we needed an overnight at the beach so suddenly I had hours of beach wandering and just being. And I realized that, at least in this case, consistent dreaming had come true.

One of my reluctantly set goals (because I had decided I wasn’t going to set goals this year) was to “create a time dancing course” and this workshop now has a name: Tango with Time, which is a tribute to my love of dancing. It suggests the image of partnering and affirms that dancing is my preferred image for interacting with you. I am now positioning this part of Spirit Moxie so people realize that we’re not talking about “time management,” but rather changing our relationship with time. So there’s major progress on this front.

But I wasn’t moving forward as smoothly and quickly as I wanted, especially on the “moving locations” front.

Maybe this had something to do with health? I conquered most of my pain issues through sheer determination — and stretching. I got all my range of motion with no pain to return in my right shoulder, an injury I don’t know how I got. While my weight went up a tad, it never spiraled out of control and then it went back down half a tad. The only loose end was some slight anemia numbers that my doctor and I started tracking, because hey, it’s my body…

A couple of weeks ago we finally did the last available test for the anemia. A bone marrow biopsy. I was rushing the process because I wanted to figure things out before I made definite plans to move, even though at this point I wasn’t sure where. A week later I went back to  my doctor for the results.

Never have I seen medical people more unconcerned when “cancer” or, in this case “leukemia,” was part of the diagnosis. It’s rare.* Easily treatable. A week, once, of chemo with about six months of monitoring is all you need. If you really want to move and have treatment on the West Coast that’s fine.

But the “perfect place/room to move to” hasn’t shown itself. And one of the best doctors I know—the one giving me the diagnosis—is also the perfect person to treat it. And I really do have love and friendships where I am now. So somehow the support and adventures dreamed about in January are manifesting as “at least six more months here in Cincinnati.” And, as occurred after my minor concussion a year ago, I am called to increased stillness despite the fact I assumed things would “happen” (whatever “things” are) only through major activity, e.g.  all the traveling and exploring West Coast cities.

So, I am practicing being present in the moment even more consistently. What if instead of goals and action, I just do “what is given to me to do?”** What happens then? Well, the electricity goes out. You find yourself writing at the library. You finish a conversation post when people haven’t heard from you for way too long. More exciting thoughts on time jump out of one of the books that started Spirit Moxie.*** You meet new people and pets.

“Presence” says it’s time to go home. I wonder why.

But I’m also wondering how are you called? And to do what? To planning and action? Or to stillness? Or are they both the same?

I wonder what our dreams will be when we arrive at 2017?  But that’s a whole adventure away.

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*”Hairy cell leukemia” in case you want to look it up
** Book of Common Prayer 1979 (New York: Church Publishing) p. 366
***John Briggs and F. David Peat, Turbulent Mirror: an illustrated guide to chaos theory and the Science of Wholeness (New York: Harper & Row, 1989)

Photos by Spirit Moxie. From top:
Bedroom window
Oregon beach — Waldport
Treatment begins