There are more than 100 “How to Change the World” items on the Spirit Moxie challenge list. There are multiple permutations for all of them. But sometimes a brand new, world changing experience gets added.

Last week I participated in a camp designed to stretch me mentally and physically. It was the final day and we were climbing a mountain which is something I knew I could do. I’ve done serious hiking before although not much recently. I knew that although I’m pretty slow, I could persevere. And I was right. With some encouragement on the harder parts, I made it up. The weather was gorgeous, the views were beautiful, and the companionship perfect.

We were functioning as a team and had to get back down within an allotted time. But I struggle going down. Slight slopes scare me and some of them on this mountain were steep. I clutch railings walking down stairs. And the one time I tried to downhill ski in order to confront my fear, in a very safe beginner lesson, all I managed to do was knock over my six-year-old son. He, of course, was doing just fine in the same beginner class; he just didn’t get out of my way fast enough even though the instructors (who saw it coming) yelled at him to do so.

In last week’s hike, I knew it would take me hours to get down off the mountain which was hardly supportive of my team. So, I stood up and said, “Hey, guys. I know this is a mind frick [something the mind claims as true when it isn’t], but I freak out going downhill.” The rest of the team just took it as a challenge. One guy grabbed my backpack. Two other tall, strong men were suddenly on either side of me. And they almost (or so it felt like) flew me down that mountain.

Never have I felt so supported.

So what was different about this versus other times I’ve requested something? One Christmas I asked for Spirit Moxie Facebook likes to reach a certain number, and it happened. I get unasked and asked for help all the time. But this time, on the mountain, the help I received made me invincible. I asked for support to do something I was afraid of doing, but needed to get done. I learned that there is power in asking for support for what seems impossible.

Note this may be different from asking for help. While we’re dealing with semantics, asking for help implies need. Support, for our purposes here, implies an addition to what one is already doing, something above and beyond the obvious. The support I received made getting down the mountain easy. If I had to do it by myself, I’m pretty sure I’d be off that mountain by now. As an example of the ”help”/“support” distinction, five months ago, when I was sick, I collapsed in the kitchen. I needed help to get up, but received support to keep going.

Isn’t this what changing the world is all about? When we look at the whole thing right now, our chances of having a peaceful, healthy, beautiful world seems kind of unlikely. Until we do that one little thing and see that the result is slightly bigger than that action. Or, that when two or three or twenty or a hundred people do something, the result can be exponentially larger. Chaos, which in Spirit Moxie can be a positive force, almost always happens only with volume. So, if you will, it took more than forty people to get me down that mountain. But the result was we all did get down and showed a display of mutual support that shocked (in a good way) those running the event.

Plus it changed me. No longer do I see support as my due, a weakness, or as something that just happens. It is now an overwhelming gift that must be asked for. Because when you ask the world changes.

Thoughts? Stories?

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Photos from top:
The view — Crystal Donald
Headed down — Ellie Rome-Reed
Hiking Gear — Gary Templeton

When they discovered I was terribly infectious during the final week I was in the hospital in January of 2017, I thought no one could come to see me. But I was wrong. For those who dared, they didn’t need to put on the blue plastic hospital gown conveniently available on my room’s door or wear a mask. Nope. There were only two instructions: to not touch me (and it was those who love hugs who showed up) and to wash their hands when they left. Either use the sink in “my” bathroom or take advantage of the hand sanitizer by the door. Period.

In the meantime, three friends have had the flu without any help from me, multiple people have had colds, and everyone else seems a tad worried about all the illness floating around. But again the mandate seems simple. Wash your hands. Oh, wait. Apparently that doesn’t help against the flu. Then again, washing your hands is on the list of things you can do to prevent the spread of it.

Sigh. But seriously it is fairly universally acknowledged that this simple action keeps us all healthier. If everyone washed their hands regularly, disease would have a much harder time spreading.

There are standard rules. The ones we might be most familiar with are to wash your hands after you use the bathroom and before you eat. If you work in a restaurant, you know that any food handling requires hand washing. From there it goes to multiple compulsive, frequent situations. Currently the one I’m having the most trouble with is sneezing, since I’m “nursing” a runny nose like a little kid.

So, hand sanitizers are OK, but not as effective. For doing hand washing right the rules are simple. Use warm water and soap. Lather. Wash for 20 seconds or two choruses of “happy birthday to you.” (I’m failing that last part too. I sing it really fast. But even if my timing of two choruses is shorter than 20 seconds, it is closer to 20 than what I usually do.) Rinse. Dry. So can we start? At least on the “after the toilet” and  “before the food handling” times? And I’ll start the 20 second rule (sigh), will report in, and invite you to do the same. Really.

Having written the above I’ve been practicing. I’m learning I am more apt to do my two choruses when I’m not home. Oh I wash at home, but the familiar pass through under the faucet happens more often than not even when I’m challenging my self. But I’ll keep with this and will report in on the comments on the web site. Join me.

Maybe this isn’t the sexiest, most personal “changing the world” piece. But washing your hands is clearly crucial. Staying healthy makes your participation easier. And it’s one of the 100+ actions that make a difference listed on the note cards that began Spirit Moxie. Are you in? Are you better than I am at this? Game on.

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All photos by Spirit Moxie. From the top:
Hands washing — courtesy of Dave Lynch of Three Kool Kings
Sign at Market Wines at Findlay Market, Cincinnati, OH
Women’s restroom at WOW [World of Wearable Art] Museum, Nelson, New Zealand

Last night I trekked across town to listen to my friend Brianna sing soulful, original songs at a place with the wonderful name of The Listing Loon, a “craft beer & wine bar/bottle shop.” I also unexpectedly heard her play more “upbeat” stuff with another guitar player and a drummer, a side I’d never seen before. In the process, I met people and, yes, talked about Spirit Moxie, supported the local economy by buying a couple of drinks including one for the musician, and for the first time, was betrayed by Uber. As result, I also had a perfect, unexpected, and beautiful midnight bus ride home. Great evening.

I also started thinking about how we support artists and why it matters. I was going to write a Conversation piece about going to art fairs, and I still might, but today the broader scope seems more crucial.

It truly is through art that the world is changed. The impact of writers is fairly obvious. Look at the writers, especially novelists and playwrights, in closed and violent Communist countries who told the truth of what suppression did to people. Think of Madame Defarge, in Charles Dickens’ Tale of Two Cities, who has now become an icon for revenge, who used something as innocent as knitting to secretly keep records. As Samantha Bennett says, “…the only thing that ever changed the world was a new story.”

But today I’d like to put in a plug for the visual and performing arts similarly changing the world. And I’d like to add our support and participation, since I know some of you are artists, for changing it, too.

At it’s best, art makes us see things differently. We see an ordinary object from a different perspective. The “truth” of a song, any still life, a great portrait, that weird piece—whether visual or audio—where you can’t figure out where they are coming from. Look at the fairly recent popularity of flash mob performances. Just having our regular routine “upset” by art seems to speak to us.

A New York City friend recently posted on Facebook about someone taking over her subway car: “That moment when your train entertainment is so good you wish you had money to throw at them. Sorry man, you totally deserved my absent cash money. Hope to hear you again soon with a full wallet.” (For the record, for non-New Yorkers, the people who choose to interrupt the anonymity of subway travel are usually terrible.) The only money I give out on the street is to performers who are worth it, sharing their talents and trying to make a bit.

You might already support multiple artistic endeavors. Your children’s school performances. The garage bands started by friends and family that get real gigs in bars and restaurants. I still remember the ska band Nice Guy Eddie that was the creation and obsession, for awhile, of my younger son’s friends, who are now my friends. And then there was the grand red carpet opening (and only showing) of my son’s almost complete film, which also featured his friends, Bitch Ass Ninjas: the return of Fatty which we attended in faux fur and a tuxedo.

And of course, when you attend an event you are also supporting the bars and restaurants that have these groups play, which also helps the world.

When the “little things that can change the world” piece on Dance came out, I talked about my friend Misa’s work. She’s now on to bigger things, so if you’re anywhere near Los Angeles or Santa Barbara you might want to look up TURF. My drummer friend Lance, who critiqued that same post, now has his own band Free Speech, based in Cincinnati, which unfortunately I’ve only been able to see a couple of times. And I’m just using this as an example. What are yours? What excuses are you using for not going? They’re playing too late? I don’t go to bars? How dare they charge when they’re amateurs? If you’re playing that last card, I don’t suppose you’ve considered buying their new CD either.

And how do you support the visual arts. I can find time to attend events, but I only have so much wall space. Well, artist have events too. While you might not buy, there are openings, receptions, and, yes, shows. My regret is that my awesome friend Jeri is regularly winning pastel honors and being featured in shows, but the closest I ever got to attending one was trekking to downtown New York to see one of her miniatures on exhibit. I’m just not in that part of the world at the right time. My friend Kim has reinvented herself into a successful encaustic artist who is featured in various Colorado galleries. But I can “like” the pieces these artists share on Facebook. I can tell them I’d like to be there for the opening. And I can cheer when one of their pieces is the perfect piece for an award or show or, gasp, just because I love it.

The beautiful cover photo that was on the Spirit Moxie Facebook page through August 2016 (you can see it in the notes below) is by my friend Su York of Suzanne York Photography who is frantically launching a business with her gorgeous photos (she’s also winning awards), while she continues to be one of the best hair stylists in Cincinnati. Sometimes one can just cheer. I’ve met the incredible Roxana Ramos Cueva — and “liked” the paper installations she’s done throughout South America. Etc.

So who are you supporting and how? Every like, every dollar, every purchase, every  puzzled “what were they thinking” or pure moment of simple enjoyment , helps change the world. Trust me on this one. Report in. We can help the world see itself in new and creative ways.

Are you in?

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Illustrations from the top:

Brianna Kelly and Friends — Spirit Moxie
Ezra Croft quotation — Spirit Moxie on Canva
20th Century Theatre marquee— Spirit Moxie
Movie Opening — Spirit Moxie
track 2/train late — pastel by Jeri Greenberg, used with permission
Water of LIfe — encaustic monotypes by Kim Roberts, used with permission
Installation in paper by Roxana Ramos Cueva — Gabriela Morales Gonzales

The August 2016 Spirit Moxie cover photo by Suzanne York Photography

When I worked in New York a number of years ago, the staff where I worked decided I was important, competent, and interesting. To this day, Delta Airlines knows me as Dr. Sedgwick thanks to a secretary who wrangled my plane reservations. When I worked for a similar organization in another city, the identity I was given was, “Who are you? Prove you’re worthy to work with us.” Needless to say the first position was a lot easier and, actually, more effective for everyone involved.

Naming. How we see each other and verbalize the labels, the ideals, and the perceptions we have about those labels and ideals makes a difference. Perfectly competent adults visit parents and immediately become needy. It’s not just their falling back into codependency or old patterns. Their parents need to be needed. It’s their identity when they are around their children, and so everyone obliges. And we all know how people with serious issues like addictions behave and are wary when we’re around them.

Naming, in my experience, can be positive as well as negative and positive naming makes the world work better and is a lot more useful. It’s important to remember, however, that this isn’t magic, although sometimes it seems as if it is, and that naming doesn’t always work.

But it’s fun when it does. A couple of years ago, I was on my way to an unfamiliar Brooklyn street corner in the pouring rain, trying to figure out where I was supposed to meet my son. At night.

When I ducked under a bodega’s awning, a tall guy who I’m pretty sure (one learns these things) was going to ask me for money was already there. “I’m so wet,” I said. True. By the time we figured things out, he was 1) mad at how inconsiderate my son was and 2) offering to walk me the several blocks to my son’s apartment. Money was never mentioned, and when my son did show up, my new friend glared at him. We had named each other as peers.

Perhaps a more dramatic example involved my friend Valerie who taught third grade. Her classroom included many non-white students who had been “named” by their previous teachers as unteachable, slow, and/or stupid. These teachers promoted these students just to keep the system moving. Valerie saw, that is “named,” them as third graders, who could learn third grade material. As a result of her naming everyone in her classroom was reading at third grade level by the end of the year.

We do this with friends too, sometimes positively, sometimes negatively. We put each other in boxes. For example, we say so and so is always late. I’m usually pretty much on time (ask my friend Su), but my friend Marilyn has named me as always late. Even if I’m early she’s there first. It maintains her perception that she’s accurate and keeps her naming of me intact. I have friends who name me as intelligent and interesting. As adventurous. And as boring and antisocial.

So there are two parts to this:

1) How do we respond to how others name us?

2) How do we name others?

Awareness of how others name you is fascinating once you realize what’s going on. The positive part is usually energizing, although occasionally you may be named as someone you don’t want to be. For instance it may be positive to be perceived as intellectual, but sometimes it just feels like pressure. There are multiple people who name me as an excellent professional communicator (as in press releases and newsletters), even though I’ve never done that sort of work and don’t really want to.

Naming also has multiple sides. To be seen as friendly and fun may cause pressure when you really just want support. On the other hand that naming may help you generate enough energy to be friendly and fun despite your mood.

What do we do with negative naming? It’s often evident in bullying. Perhaps people use negative naming to increase their sense of self importance. Can we make it a game? (Just how early do I have to show up at my next “date” with Marilyn? Nope, that idea didn’t work!)

To not live into the negative part of naming is a challenge and sometimes not worth it. I quit the second job mentioned earlier. Oh, I learned a lot from it and could have probably set the right boundaries, now that I look back with 20/20 hindsight. I named those coworkers as gifted as well as highly respected and appreciated for their work and I’m pretty sure how I named them took before I left.

If you don’t like how you are named, it may be time to change friends—or jobs.

But it’s important to realize that naming isn’t usually instantaneous, or, as I said, magic. To decide that the kid on drugs is fine or that your mother will stop being needy is a bit more complicated than just deciding. Perhaps there is need for a serious intervention (or several), for the addicted kid. Perhaps the parent has to be told a thousand times that it’s not up to you. But naming always creates change.

Ultimately, however, what naming changes is yourself. In many fantasy books, among other sources, to name is to wield power. Certainly some of the power is over and for those named. But beyond this the naming is for ourselves. I can accept the good names and offer more positive names to others. The more I do this, the more the world will gradually change. So I’ll stay important, competent, and interesting. And intelligent and inspiring while I’m at it.

So, what about you?  Together, we’ll be more powerful and joyful and creative and alive.

Who do you need to name?

Who have you named?

How are you named?

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Photo:
Blurred nametags — Spirit Moxie

This was found by a friend in a school hallway. It says a lot, but what might you add?

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Photo by Sheryl B Greenfield