It is time for your Moxie review! What is on YOUR Moxie list?

Yesterday Sue Ann Gleason inspired us with the idea that we all have our own Moxie list. She suggested that we should call on our Moxie accounts to inspire us when “faced with a challenge.”  As I started to look back, with my lens focused for finding Moxie, I could feel my energy increasing. Noticing that I have had the capacity for bravery, spunk and determination made me feel like they are capacities ever at the ready. When I celebrate and recall them they are closer to the surface somehow and I am more able to call on them.

This made me realize it is time for all of us to heed Sue Ann’s advice and make our own Moxie lists. So do your self a favor, before reading any further, grab a pen and paper, or open a blank document. As I travel back to consider my own list perhaps something I say will remind you of things that are on your own list.

Start young. Children inherently have moxie. If you think back to your childhood it is likely you can single out more then a few Moxie moments. I remember three in particular.

Moxie moment number ONE

When I was in the third grade I was harassed by a girl in my class. I wouldn’t go so far as to say I was bullied by her because I didn’t have trouble deflecting her taunts and I generally felt I could hold my own with her. One day this all changed when she got her older sister and one of her sister’s friends involved and they pinned me up against a fence so the taunting girl could hit me. Before this she was annoying but now she was trying to hurt me! Initially I was so shocked by the situation I did nothing. Surly the playground monitors would see this and intervene.

No one came to help. Then the bell rang indicating it was time to go back inside. The bell ringing and children flooding towards the school doors distracted my attackers and I suddenly had the strength to free one  hand which I used immediately to grab a length of the older sister’s hair. I yanked hard and actually pulled a clump of hair out. I shocked myself at my courage for fighting back against this older kid and I shocked her and her friend enough that I broke free and ran for the door and joined my class as if nothing had happened.

The girl who normally taunted me came in too and never again said a word to me. None of us ever said a thing to anyone about the incident and from that point on I was no longer taunted. It took some prodding but when needed my Moxie had come forth with a fury!

Moxie Moment number TWO

Another story I recall from my childhood happened in fifth grade when I stood up to an adult. Now you have to understand that I was generally VERY respectful of authority figures and knew that my parents expected this of me. I wouldn’t always like it but I generally followed the rules and didn’t rock the boat too much. On this particular day, as we were lining up for lunch, the daily ritual in which children from all three fifth grade classes would stand quietly in single file until everyone was accounted for, and then and only then, our lunch chaperone could lead us down to the cafeteria. The rules of the line were no talking or pushing. Everyday our progress was slowed by someone doing one or the other. On this particular day some kids were doing both right behind me.

First there was some shoving and bumping which caused me to lurch out of line directly in the watchful line of site of the monitor. She reprimanded me and asked me to get back in line. I felt I hadn’t done anything wrong but I just stepped back into line, not making any fuss. The two kids behind me were laughing at this point and started to get loud. The lunch lady then fixed her eyes in our direction and called me to the front of the line as the trouble maker.

I wasn’t the trouble maker, I tried to explain. I told the lady that I hadn’t done anything so I was staying where I was and I wasn’t going to go to the front of the line. Everyone got very quiet even the trouble makers right behind me. No one ever challenges the lunch lady’s authority! The lunch lady raised her voice, “You will get to the front of this line right now.” I replied, “I will not, I didn’t do anything wrong.” Then she started walking toward me and I shouted, “Fine!” or something to that effect and then started walking toward the front of the line.

My fifth grade class was at the end of the hall so the front of the line was a little ways down the hall. Enough time for me to develop some resolve regarding the matter. I was not going to be made to go to the front of the line when I didn’t do anything wrong. I walked to the front of the line, turned and with a loud voice to the monitor, who thought she had already handled me, said, “I didn’t do anything wrong, I am not going to have my lunch at the front of the line” (why this was so horrific I really can’t recall!)  and then, at the front of the line, I just kept walking.

I didn’t wait for the line to start moving. After my loud declaration I just walked down the stairs, and then walked out the front doors of the school and the five blocks back to my house, where I told my mother I had forgotten my lunch money. I learned later that the school had called my mother but she never said a word about this. She just helped me to make a sandwich and sent me back to school in time to join my class for the end of the after lunch recess. I returned to school feeling like I had gotten away with something and very proud of sticking up for my self.  I didn’t know the word Moxie then, but I’m sure my mom saw it beaming in my eyes!

Moxie Moment number THREE

By the time I got to high school I was pretty good at standing up for myself and although I would use quirky behavior to camouflage the fact that I wasn’t always confident, at home I was very good at letting my family know where I stood on things. I was definitely the loud one at home and I drove my parents crazy with my different tirades and schemes to get the things that I wanted.

During my Junior year of High School, the thing I decided I wanted was to host an exchange student. I had participated in our schools IFC (International Friendship Club) and my family had on a few occasions hosted an exchange student for a week or weekend as part of my participation. This was all fun and fine in my book but I wanted to host someone for a full year. Our neighbors had hosted a girl from Iran for a year several years back and that seemed to go great. The school had one or two exchange students each year and I wanted my family to host one.

No one in my family thought this was a good idea. My Dad was a pretty private person and the thought of sharing his home with a “stranger” really disturbed him. My mom was already shuffling three kids around so the thought of one more wasn’t very appealing to her either. My sister and brother were ok with the idea but neither one was willing to go out of their way to do anything about it.

I decided to put an application in on behalf of my family. I went to a local family selection meeting and found out what the process would be. I filled out the application and then scheduled my family for an interview. I had been badgering my parents incessantly so when I told them that the interview was just a way to get more information and could in fact actually disqualify us, if the committee didn’t find us suitable, my parents relented. My dad figured this would be the end of it.

I remember clearly that at the beginning of our interview, my dad started every question saying “If we were to do this, and I’m not saying we will…” but by the end he was only saying, “If we do this..” which I heard as  a chance! By the time the three people who were interviewing us had left, I was giddy with excitement. “It sounds fun doesn’t it!,” I rejoiced. “It could be, but I still don’t think it is for us.” my dad said deflating my elation.

A short time later we would get the word that our family had passed the interview. If we decided we wanted to go forward, our local chapter would support us. My parents took this as the opportunity to tell me that they didn’t think we would be doing it and I believe they thought the matter was dropped. We were no longer a part of the process.

I still remained active in the local chapter, if my family wasn’t going to host I would at least make sure we found someone to host the two students slated to come. As time went on we had one family all signed up but there was no one to host our second student. “Please, can we do it?” was not working at home so our chapter had to pass on accepting a second student.

I was pretty sad about the whole thing until summer when I found out that some student paperwork was floating around. The other side of the equation, a student had been approved to participate but unless a home could be found she wouldn’t get to come. Normally AFS (American Field Service the national organization my IFC group worked with to find exchange students.) would match up a host family with a student but in this case, when a family hadn’t been found, the student paperwork circulates in the local clubs rightfully with the hope that someone will “fall in love” with the idea of that particular student staying with their family.

Because my family had previously been approved, it wasn’t difficult for me to get a hold of this paperwork for my family’s consideration. My family hadn’t been sold on the idea of “any” student coming to stay with us, but what about “this” particular one? I wondered, hope renewed. I also remember being very scared about broaching the topic again but my moxie was there to help. I did it a dinner time, as we were all sitting around the picnic table on our deck.

“I just found out this girl, Romola Lang, from New Zealand, is still looking for a family. I know you said no, but I think she might be a really good fit for our family.” I said, holding her paperwork in my hand.

My parents did not look happy. “We already said we weren’t going to do this.”

“Just look at the papers.” I said.

We kept the papers for two days, I saw them on the kitchen table, I saw them on the table next to my Dad’s chair. I heard my parents arguing late at night and then finally, my dad said, “OK, we’ll try it. If it isn’t working we’ll have to ask AFS to find her a new home.”

In the end, it worked out beautifully. Romola truly became a member of the family. We have visited each other since and to this day we stay in touch. I knew it would be a great experience for my family and the process of making it happen turned out to be excellent Moxie training. I really never gave up, even in the face of no from the folks with the power, my parents. I later would go on to hold several successful sales positions due in some part to this moxie skill.

I could go on!

As I sit here now, getting present to these early moxie moments, it becomes easy to remember other times in which I allowed my Moxie to take the lead. Here are five, off the top of my head:

• Convincing AFS to take me as an exchange student a year after I already graduated from high school. It is a high school program so this certainly wasn’t the norm. I spent my year in Austria.
• Convincing my college to graduate me even though I hadn’t declared a major. The major I left school with was called “General Studies” which in effect meant I had seven minors.
• Calling a competitor’s company and asking for a job. Moving across country to take said job with what I could carry in my car and nothing more then a nearly maxed out gas card to finance the journey until I got my first paycheck.
• At 40 giving most of my stuff away to start over on the opposite side of the country in a job that I loved but paid me very little.
• At 43, in the face of “advanced maternal age” saying yes to my Sweetie when he asked if we could try for a child.

 

The thing is, as I live my day to day life, I forget about these moments. When laundry piles up and I struggle with what to make for dinner, I forget that Moxie lives in me. I imagine scenarios where things don’t go as planned, I worry about trivial matters and big things. I wonder if my voice can make a difference and feel small in the face of all the big problems in the world. I let doubt and worry get in the way of saying anything. I feel trepidation just asking for help in the grocery store!

But now, having remembered that I too have a rich history of Moxie moments, I feel energized. I really feel I can take on anything. and I urge you to try it too.

Chel was reminded, Sue Ann remembered,  and now I’ve come up with my account.  Moxie is in you too!

What is on your moxie list?

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If you too have a story of Moxie you would like to share, please consider linking it up to our

“Speaking of Moxie” party or contacting me to guest post here on Bliss Habits.