An Invitation
As I write this 2015 is coming to a close and a challenge is floating around social media to describe the year in one word. I’m inviting you to give 2015 its one word name and then play with me as we go into the newness of 2016. What word would you pick to describe your year of 2015?
For me, I’m claiming “confusing” as my one word for 2015. I’m sure the friend who shared this challenge with me (to come up with a one word description) wanted a loftier word, but for me “confusing” simply fits. In 2015, I spent more money than I probably should have (although I am always suspicious of the word “should”) on conferences and workshops searching for the key that might make Spirit Moxie financially viable while continuing to be challenging and visionary. In the ongoing conversation about what we should look like, I’ve gained 5 to10 pounds that taunt me when I pay attention, although somehow my clothes still fit and most of the time I feel I look OK. (We all might reread the Love Your Body conversation of a few months ago!)
The grand experiment of living without a car in Cincinnati has been pretty much a success, although I’m sure that some friends are hoping I come to my senses soon. With that, a magical relationship with time has expanded to where it just seems to swirl and support me rather than confine me to a linear existence. I’m also trying to commit more to recognizing magic, but I sometimes find myself discounting such occurrences as “only time supporting me again” when, for example, buses show up off schedule or a traffic jam on the way to the airport still results in time enough to chill before my flight (remember I love airports).
Not willing to be consistent about things, while working without time, I am also the proud owner of one of the first iWatches, which is the first instance of my being an early adopter of an Apple product. And it’s the first watch I’ve ever consistently worn. I’ve worried about my kids and rejoiced in things they’ve done. There have been lovely dinners, and cooking is still a primary hobby. And the friends. New ones all over the world who cheer me on and laugh at my idiosyncrasies. And long time ones who support me quirks and all. Yes, it’s been a full and confusing year.
But as we come to the beginning of 2016, a new, clean slate of “what’s next” awaits. So how do we enter this new year? I gave up New Year’s resolutions a long time ago and suggest you do the same. Unless you know they’ll give you motivation, they are usually just something to give up by February. As an alternative, I set goals such as “write and share five poems.” Then a few months into the year, I reread my list. And then grade myself at the end of the year. If I remembered. Last year, I just listed some things: travel, Spirit Moxie, entertain. All of which happened, but didn’t, if you will, lead anywhere. Another reason for the description of “confusing” for 2015,
So, for 2016, I’m inviting you to something new. This year I’d like you to join me in dreaming. Yes. Dreaming. No, not fantasizing about winning the lottery or talking to George Clooney or meeting the mate of your dreams. The question is where is your heart calling you? Try it. What dream is behind the wishes and longings for, for instance, great wealth and hot romance? Are you willing to not know exactly how what you want will look like, as long as it gives you what you long for? Perhaps the true dream is to feel love and support in a new way or to re-experience romance. Or to absolutely realize that you feel financially free. Or to find yourself unexpectedly meeting people you couldn’t imagine meeting and the giddiness of those kinds of encounters.
I dream of ongoing support and unexpected adventures. Yes, it would be nice if it included crossing Hawaii off the list of states I’ve never visited. It would be great to have some regular income and a new romance. And maybe rather than talking about writing a book, I will actually put that many words to paper (or pixels) to make it happen. But the dream behind those things is for freedom and community. So this year I will go where that pulls me and do what supports that dream. Is community for me connecting more closely with my current friends and neighbors or does it involve a new location? Is freedom more plane tickets or a new passion? Is it Spirit Moxie suddenly having thousands of followers or three conversations where someone really gets the possibility of changing the world and themselves? Can I figure out how to help others dance with time? No clue. Except for the clue that right now I am writing this and inviting you to check in with me as I follow my dreams.
This is only part of dreaming, but it is through dreaming that possibility becomes real. And knowing if we follow the clues our dreams will manifest in unexpected ways.
So share yours. Your word for 2015. Your dreams for 2016. And we’ll leave the 2015 word behind to follow where the 2016 dreams lead. And we’ll hold each other accountable.
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All photos by Spirit Moxie
From the top:
Street sign in Park Slope, Brooklyn
Face of iWatch
Dreamcatcher



Yeah, yeah. What about the miracles you say? Nothing about a concussion and lying low fits that. Well, the day I woke up with instructions to do nothing all day the sky was just, simply grey. It was a perfect fit that didn’t demand anything of me. Yes, you say. Another coincidence. Well, the nagging past/future conversation that has been bothering me is when people either discount miracles or assume they are so obvious that they don’t delight in them. (“Delight” is a moxie trait. Really.) My most recent complicated example of feeling discounted was being with people who, if you’d asked them, believed in miracles. I love shrimp, and finding new styles of shrimp-and-grits cooking has become kind of a quest. But on my most recent trip, it wasn’t happening. The last night of the conference I went off by myself and sat at a deserted bar for a salad (since there were no shrimp on the menu and I wasn’t super hungry) and a local bourbon. The manager asked if it was OK if he joined me and brought his plate of the staff kitchen dinner a couple of seats away. Shrimp and grits. “Oh,” he said as I shared my love. “I’ll go see if there’s some left–think there might be some grits.” And a perfect bowl of grits–and shrimp to go with it–appeared in front of me. All at no charge. Miracles. What are the chances? Telling my friends about this experience (“I created shrimp and grits!”), I got an “of course” response. Where was the delight? The joy? Such events are never matter of fact for me, but I felt the miracle was discounted by those I told about it. [Just for the record, that picture is of the best shrimp-and-grits I’ve had, not the miracle ones!]
























