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!

_______________________________________

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.

________________________________________

*”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

Finally, with the help of some friends I’ve never met and who I know only by their first names (or what they say are their first names), sent the Mariner in FarmVille 2 Country Escape away, having completed the quest. My score is still firmly in the middle in Gummy Drop!, which I keep playing because I do know the player ahead of me, even if I never see her these days—and because it is a puzzle. Both of these games are on my iPad. Because I’m currently computerless, two online friends are keeping Farm Town going on Facebook. (I met one of these friends once face to face although it is through the game we became friends.) And, there are 3 or 4 unknown people who clearly depend on me to play Pet Hotel on my phone. Plus certainly I need to play Sudoku, usually on the phone. Doesn’t that count as Alzheimer’s prevention?

I’m reading the most recent volume of J.A. Jance’s Beaumont mysteries having worked my way through the complete series. When I started writing this conversation there were six left! I have a very useful chronological list provided by a librarian without my even asking for it. I’m checking the books off as I go.

So, is this useful hibernating? Big time avoidance? Addiction? Pure laziness? Couldn’t I write more effectively about art or politics or give you another Dreams for the New Year update? Or is this a dreams update? To have my life boiled down to sitting on the floor with a cat next to me, “goofing off” on the iPad, interrupted by a walk to the mailbox. No, wait, I seem to keep forgetting to check the mail.

Of course, it isn’t always like this, but it seems as if it is more and more. Like most situations it becomes a question of whether am I learning anything during this period. Or, what am I avoiding? And [drum roll, please] where am I going? Plus, I realize I’m ignoring some core Spirit Moxie tenets.

First, I’ve forgotten that things should be easy. Even more basically, I’ve stopped continually claiming hope for my self and the world. Oh, I remember sometimes. But I’ve forgotten that it is in relaxing and play and just doing what’s in front of me that possibilities are created. My mentor Lissa Rankin talks about “the place between stories.” So, is this what it looks like to not  connect with my wine friends and to wonder when some lightning bolt will point to Seattle or Portland or some Cincinnati neighborhood to determine where I should live? Is it spending more money than I should for the first time in years without a back-up plan? Am I simply living in an “in between story,” whose significance will become clear later?

Or am I experiencing what Samantha Bennett calls a time of being fallow? In other words am I just allowing my life to be and rest in preparation for, well, whatever gets planted and grows? Spirit Moxie still feels like the right seeds. I know it’s a needed vision. But I’m not making the calls offering to do workshops, sending the emails asking others to write conversation posts, or seeking opportunities to speak. Why not, if it is so important? Where are my finished manuscripts? Or is it all just resting for a season.

Look! It’s raining! Isn’t it beautiful? There are new things to learn, which creates excuses for travel. I haven’t been in an airport for over a month. And I’ll probably go buy that computer I can’t afford. Perhaps sometimes dithering is what keeps us going.

If ease is the answer and being present is the road map that I keep foisting on everyone else, what am I called to right now? First not to beat myself up about it. And next? Well, there’s one thing to be handled in Country Escape. I’m waiting for two phone calls and a text re finances and plans. The book has been read, along with two more in a different series, so those must be returned to the library. We’ll see if replacements show up. A cat is demanding to be petted. And apparently I’ve dithered long enough and so am finishing writing this.

Hey—there’s the doorbell…

Addendum: The doorbell announced the delivery of the needed computer. I’m headed to the airport again. And I have finished something and — you’re reading this!!!! So where are you? Dithering? Journeying? Somewhere in between?

___________________________

Photos by Spirit Moxie. From the top:
iPad with game
book list
Sheddy, the black cat who has claimed me as temporary companion

“Well they don’t want to come here. We’re not perfect.” If I hadn’t promised to be part of the committee, I’d have fled from the room. When did we become self-righteous about not being perfect? And what the heck is perfect anyway?

The people I was listening to were reveling in their imperfection, seemingly following clear instructions that one can never assume perfection. I think this mindset is related to Jesus’ challenge in Matthew 5:48, “Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect.” Not presuming to be perfect seems to be an inherent challenge whether you believe in Jesus or not.

Whatever your religious belief, I’d offer that Jesus, as distinct from his followers, usually gets things right. This saying comes after a passage on loving your enemies, which can actually be viewed as a way of avoiding having any. The “perfect” saying is then followed by a statement about hiding one’s piety.

So the sequence is 1) “love,” 2) “be perfect,” 3) “don’t brag.” [Yes, this is a huge oversimplification.] But, we don’t say love or bragging isn’t possible. So why do we get hung up on the impossibility of “perfect.” And what does “being perfect” mean?

I keep being reminded of the Pharisee saying, “God, I thank you that I am not like other people” (Luke 18:11). We’ve reversed that one since the Pharisee’s glad he’s righteous.

In other words, we’ve become proud that we’re not perfect. That we’re sinful. We connect with one another on how we get it wrong whether we’re religious or not. Claiming our sinfulness and imperfections (religious and secular) is the new self-righteousness.

I’d like to suggest we are wrong. We are wrong for not claiming we’re perfect right now. Believe for a second that Jesus is right. And that he challenges us with the possible rather than with some lofty ideal that should make us feel continually inadequate.

So. How is “your heavenly Father” perfect?

Well – God’s our creator. Creating, according to Madeline L’Engle, is one of the primary strengths we share with God. A more basic part is that while in the convoluted world of the traditional scriptures “He” is credited with all kinds of emotions, the bottom line, or perhaps more appropriately the opening line, is that creation is, simply, “good.” God doesn’t make junk (attributed to Ethel Waters).

So whatever your relationship is to a creator, just by existing we’re good, perfect right now. At this very moment we can’t be any other way than we are — for the simple reason we are what we are. We, you and I, are by definition perfect. Perfect is not some ideal of a 22-inch waist or of only having “good” thoughts. It isn’t a degree of holiness or likability. It isn’t even being kind or nonviolent. Perfect is simply an acknowledgement that right now, you are who and what you are and that right now, you can’t be any other way. Right now, typing this in a coffee shop in a strange city, I, Sally B. Sedgwick, am perfect. And so is everyone and everything around me.

If you don’t believe me, go out and look around. Pretend you’re watching a movie. Do you see how every character (person) you see is perfect for the scene you’re in? It can’t be any other way. Even the scenery and the weather are perfect. So, this means you are too.

Does claiming yourself as perfect mean you won’t/can’t change? Of course not! Look at a peach. It’s a little hard – a perfect not quite ripe peach. Then it gets a little softer. How perfect! Ooops! No one ate it. It’s a perfect peach showing how things decay, or maybe ready to be planted for new growth. Oh, all you have is the seed? Perfect.

Does claiming yourself as perfect mean things won’t happen that you wish wouldn’t or you won’t do things that you regret? No. But however these things play out, at this minute whatever is simply is. A perfect moment.

However much this may sound like word games, there is a point. One, seeing ourselves and the world as perfect is crucial to learning how to be present, which is the place where the magic of this being human business happens and can be seen. Two, it is also the place of all possibilities. In addition there is the simple amazement of, “so this is what perfect looks like. [Damn, yeah, shit, oh, sigh, yes….]”

Now is what we have. By claiming that now is perfect and that we are perfect, all the possibilities of creation unfold. Play with me! What do you see?

______________________

Photos of peaches – Spirit Moxie

There is a saying, “be careful what you wish for.” In early January, I challenged you to share your dreams for the new year instead of the usual resolutions or goals. And I said we would hold each other accountable.

My dreams were of “ongoing support” and “unexpected adventures,” with other words for the same things being “community” and “freedom,” respectively. I dutifully began looking for a plane ticket and talking about where I might move if I decided to do so. Meanwhile, because I had given up my car some time ago, I still had the adventures of riding the bus, dancing with time, and general exploration.

As part of the last, I started following Mike Dooley’s The Universe Talks “Infinite Possibilities Project,” a 30-day challenge that I wanted to witness because I thought something similar might be cool for Spirit Moxie sometime. So, although I had just committed in our last conversation to not having goals for the new year, I dutifully followed the day 1 instruction of the Infinite Possibilities Project to list at least 5 goals. These I dutifully posted on Instagram and they included such things as “laugh more” and “figure out if I’m moving.”

Then, just like in the best adventure stories, on the morning of January 12th, there was a knock on the door. I was handed a three-day eviction notice. My landlord had been foreclosed on and the apartment (which is a condo) sold. I actually knew earlier that it had been sold, but I blithely thought I could stay there until my lease ran out in late spring. “Oh,” the man delivering the notice said, “just call the lawyer listed to figure out what’s really going on.” So I did. “Oh,” they said, “that just means that after three days they’ll start real eviction proceedings.” What? The people managing my apartment checked with their lawyer. The documents I had received were legal, and my lease was not effective, as it was a contract with the previous owner. I called a friend who is a real estate lawyer. She made a couple of phone calls; all this was new to her, but yes, everything was legal.

OK, then. So, if this was opportunity rather than a crises, what next? I hate packing and moving: the process rather than being in a new space with new opportunities. And I have a lot of stuff. It allows me to entertain others, which I love. And the love includes cooking, a joy, and maybe my only craft. My stuff provides entertainment for me as well (did I mention books?) and is part of my personal history.

But I soon realized this same stuff was keeping me stuck and preventing me from those “unexpected adventures” I wanted. I could move across town one more time and seriously miss the incredible view that is literally one wall of my apartment. It’s always changing. I am looking at it now as I type, unexpectedly misted with February snow. White roofs. The river.

But what if by following adventure, I find that it really does seem right to live in Seattle? Or what if friends or family suddenly need support? What about a year in another country such as Thailand? And those are just random ideas that have come up in the past few weeks.

“Stuff,” however, makes all of this hard. My kids don’t want the dishes and don’t have room for more furniture. Plus, I learned when I was working in Chicago that if there is an Ikea anywhere near you, you can furnish a place for one to two thousand dollars. Cheaper than moving if you give up antiques and china!

Exploring options, I found an auctioneer who says he will take everything I want to get rid of. Today, one of his people came and packed all my glassware and china. Yesterday, I sent a chair that had been a wedding present to my ex-husband via our older son. And so on.

So, for those of you who know me, I should be out of the apartment sometime next week. And yes, I have somewhere to stay, one of several offers. I’ve been overwhelmed with love and support. So “ongoing support” – check. “Unexpected adventures” – check.

But what does this have to do with you? One person on Instagram said, “if you finish tidying up, do you want to come do mine too?” I don’t think my version would work for her or for very many people because these are my dreams and yours are, well, yours.

So if you dreamt of having more friends, how is that showing up for you? Did you talk about writing more? Well, are you? But a more crucial question is to look at what you dreamt and ask, “what is underneath?”  What do you receive if your dreams come true? Is it scary? Exciting? Peaceful?

Look around. Did you hear a knock on the door? Did you answer?

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All photos by Spirit Moxie.

From the top:
“The” Instagram list
Apartment View (February 9, 2016)
Boxes of glassware and china

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.

_________________________________________

All photos by Spirit Moxie

From the top:
Street sign in Park Slope, Brooklyn
Face of iWatch
Dreamcatcher

In the last two months, two couples, four of my favorite people got married. So this post is for them–what I really want them to know. Maybe it’s for you, too!

Falling in love, being in love–it’s a magical, joy-filled, sometimes confusing state of being. But over time, I’ve learned, and am still learning, some things to help you claim and nurture this magic.

1. You don’t need each other. While together there are fantastic possibilities, you are 100% perfect, awesome and wonderful all by yourself. Always. Remember that the words “I can’t live without you” are all about ownership and not about love. So claim yourself as fabulous (don’t argue, yes you are). And when two fabulous people, perfect in themselves, are together, can you even begin to fathom the possibilities???
2. The only person you can change is yourself. I know change is possible, because I’ve changed. But again, remember you’re perfect the way you are too. If you weren’t you wouldn’t be the way your are. (Perhaps we need to discuss this further over coffee, a glass of wine, or a long walk?) Based on this, just realize that asking someone you love to “never change!” doesn’t work. Would you like to be married to someone in a wax museum?
3. Honesty always works. It might feel uncomfortable sometimes. “I have absolutely no excuse for being late.” “You know that glass dish your mother gave us?” “I’m so tired I could scream and I don’t want to be touched.” “I love you.” “I feel jealous. Can you help me sort that one out?” And the little white lie you tell to make things easier that just smolders until it erupts. (While I’m not perfect on this one, the only excuse for white lies for me is when I’m planning a surprise party. There may not be any exceptions for you.)
4. There is always another version of the story. And everything, except perhaps an immediate experience of danger or pain, is a story. It is one of the features of language. So if a situation is making you feel angry or ugly or not perfect or unloved, why are you holding onto it? If language, what we say about the past and future, created the problem, it can be changed. Emotions, feelings, reasons, are all words we’ve chosen to give power to. They can be changed. An easy example that isn’t yours might be, “He’s always looking at other women. He’s going to leave me and thinks I’m ugly.” The flip side of that story could be, “I have a guy who loves attractive women. How perfect that I’m the one he’s with.” (Maybe after that walk we need to keep talking over a good bourbon or a craft beer.)

What would you add? What have you learned? Love you.

______________________________

Photo credit:
Cake from Kunchik/Nienaber wedding — Laura Hoffman

“So tell me,” I asked, “why did you call?”

The phone call had come out of nowhere, “So and so [someone I’d never heard of] gave me your card.” So this stranger and I met in a local coffee shop and talked for almost two hours about his dreams and history and a little about Spirit Moxie. “What intrigued me was the word ‘moxie’,” he said.

Ah. Yes. There is that word. While there are official definitions of “moxie” such as, “vigor; verve; pep” or “courage and aggressiveness; nerve” or even, simply, “skill, know-how,” they all seem a little bland. The word includes a sense of puckishness and daring, at least in my mind. It’s a word to keep you going on average days and dancing on extraordinary ones.

This particular conversation happened two days after a fall that had me headed to the doctor that afternoon. Words weren’t forming properly for me, and I thought someone who knew what they were doing should probably look at the wound over my eye where I’d slapped a bandage to stop the bleeding. But I’m sure my coffee companion talked about “moxie” and his own search to find calling and grace.

My diagnosis was “a mild concussion.” The instructions were to do “nothing.” “Soft music. Stay away from the computer.” Having learned in the past couple of years that sometimes an illness is our bodies trying to get our attention (just stay with me on this one) and because I had no explanation for falling ( I didn’t trip and didn’t pass out, but just suddenly saw that my head was headed towards the sidewalk), I explain the fall by saying my body wanted my attention.

So if this is true, what am I learning? First has been the lure of the word “moxie.” What does this mean about who I can be? Who you can be? Who we are as we live in the moment? In fact, it might mean to do even less than being present, a state I’ve been touting as what we really need to learn to change the world and our personal world, i.e., to just “be.” (For some reason, for me, there is a sense of expectation in the present, which is why I’ll be talking about miracles in a moment.) It’s amazing what happens with just being, doing nothing. For example, while doing nothing, I’ve connected deeply with people who affirm a future I’m barely naming (that’s too active).

“Sure you can stay with us in Seattle for a week or so while you figure out if this is where you should live.”

“Did you send that resume yet? I’ll be your goad.”

“That won’t work. Wrong context. You need to come at a discount to this conference. I have someone you need to meet who can help reframe that.”

It is moxie that creates the possibilities around us, And helps us see them. Oh, and say yes to them. So what is right there for you to see? And when you see it, is there a moxie kinda “yes” waiting?

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!]

Other miracles. My friend Linda is a librarian at my local library. I can actually find her at work only when either I really need to confirm a social arrangement or need her particular brand of expertise. She works full time, and I almost never see her unless her presence will make a difference.

Or stopping by a pub in a strange city and learning from my fabulous bartender that they had a great brunch on Sunday, but, no, he wasn’t going to be working that day. Except, of course, he was there when I showed up. I almost apologized to him for “making” [a colleague had called in sick] him work and hoped he wanted extra hours.

There have been times I longed for social connections and they just were there. Or got the check in the mail. Or the call. Or multiple things that involve time working in strange ways, which is another conversation. There are such things as buses that arrive just as I get to a stop or are delayed and the delay makes everything work perfectly for me.

I’m finishing writing this on an airplane. Those of you who know me know I love airports and airplanes and am happiest en route. But yesterday, I visited my doctor who assured me my head wound would take six months to a year or two to heal completely and that he could feel the swelling above my eye that had me concerned. He assured me I’m fine and it was just a question of time. But cabin pressure on the airplane has it hurting a lot. Where’s the miracle there? However the moxie in me is thrilled that I’m traveling again and writing was easy and one of the people who loves making me feel cared for, whom I haven’t seen in months, was working at the Sky Club this morning. And it seemed a miracle at the time that all I got was a head wound, nothing broken, no stitches. Coincidences? Miracles? I think for this trip I’ll let it evolve and have me a moxie-filled adventure studded with miracles.

Come along. How does your moxie show up? Where are your miracles? This really is how we change the world.

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All photos by Spirit Moxie:
Selfie at the doctor’s office after the fall
Shrimp and grits at the Claremont Hotel, Berkeley, CA
The bartender who wasn’t supposed to be working! Stone Mad Pub, Cleveland, OH