This is yet another Coronavirus pandemic (COVID-19) message. It’s March, 2020, and this post is about the little things, the Moxie Moves, you can do right now to change the world.
Remember this crisis is about you. No matter your demographic, you can still be infected (even fatally) and no matter where you live, the real danger is to the healthcare infrastructure, that supports you. It can be easily stretched beyond its capacity.
Also remember this crisis is not about you, i.e. don’t take things personally [#22]. No matter your demographic, it is not just about protecting yourself, your lifestyle, or your theories. It is about daring to claim that you are part of humanity. It’s about our world.
First, be willing to be wrong [#8]. This may be the hardest action to actually do, but probably it’s always the most important. We find being right comforting, but the facts about this disease are skimpy. We aren’t 100% sure how it spreads. We don’t always know who is infected (including ourselves) because they may be asymptomatic. This uncertainty leaves us vulnerable to being manipulated. If any action is distancing you from your neighbor, not just physically, but emotionally, be suspicious [#7]. But still continue to respect rules and guidelines [#80]. One can be neighborly without direct physical contact.
Don’t obsess about the news. Fear and negativity affect our health. When you do read about this pandemic listen to facts from multiple sources [#57] and make certain they are confirmed. In the United States if you need to know more, try the official source cdc.gov rather than relying on Facebook or newscasts Globally try the World Health Organization.
Take care of your body [#98]. This means eating nutritiously (e.g., fewer processed foods) and getting enough sleep* [#90]. as well as remembering to wash your hands [#115], which we wrote about three years ago. So, you’ve been doing that all along, right? Avoiding touching your face unless you hands are clean has been emphasized by others. Apparently touching our faces is the only way we can get infected by the virus lurking on surfaces.
Be generous [#3]. Give a little more if you can when you tip [#100] when responsibly eating out if that’s still an option, or having food or other necessities delivered. Try to shop locally [#87] which supports vulnerable businesses and strengthens our local infrastructure.
Figure out how to responsibly stay positive and productive. Imagine this relates to the 2014 Conversation catch a firefly [#11]. Yes, it’s the wrong time of year. But right now we need delight, curiosity, and joy. Really look at things. Colors. Shapes. Ideas. Dance [#16]. Solo living room dancing is a known art form and great exercise (which relates to caring for your body). It also could be, if you reread the original post, a good metaphor for our response to today.
Respect others privacy [#79]. Everyone is responding to this crisis in their own way. Enjoy what you have [#26]. When was the last time you really appreciated your sock drawer? The pen collection? That odd gift from Aunt Susan? Ask for support [#2] [link] when you need it. Offer support [#66]. People are being very creative. What about you?
And finally, I remind you of two key Moxie Moves. Smile* [#92] at yourself in the mirror, at what you’re reading, at a pet or a photo or a tree. And give thanks* [#28] [link] about everything. The privilege of solitude. Food. Friends. Words. Give thanks for the challenges of social distancing, quarantine, health, and illness.
Together we can still, no, we can continue to change the world.
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The number in brackets [#00] is the number in Spirit Moxie’s current list of 120 things we can do together to change the world. There’s a link if there is a longer Conversation post about the move. An asterisk (*) means the move was included in our book Moxie Moves: 10 easy ways to make a powerful difference. We look forward to hearing your responses.
All photos are by Spirit Moxie
From the top:
Intertwined tree roots in Bangkok sidewalk
Toys: music, books, games
Sign from book launch party
Meanwhile, there are all the bits I’ve been saying here about listening to our bodies. These comments might sound the same. Specifically, I’ve been claiming that our bodies keep trying to get our attention as we live into our best selves. (I was going to say “true purpose,” but that sounds as if there is only one right path, which I don’t believe at all.)
So is a fall always a sign? I don’t think it is necessarily. A couple of months ago (mid-December 2019,) I fell again while walking a friend’s dog. Somehow, I tripped on a rise in the sidewalk, knew I tripped, and fell in a way that I couldn’t stop myself. Sparing you the details of the next hours (and days), I finally learned I had fractured my right elbow and would be wearing a stylish black sling when I was out of the house. But throughout this experience I was, and still am, very sure it was just an accident. I fell simply because I wasn’t focused on where I was going. It was a painful and inconvenient, but effective way to force me to become more ambidextrous. It was a dramatic way to encourage me to continue to 
Bottom line: sometimes stuff happens just because it happens. Sometimes things happen because there is something important that you are missing and need to learn about or pay attention to. This simply means learn to listen. Without blaming yourself or anyone else about what happens to you, how are you called to be your best self? What are you being told and why?
Well, that and that Moxie Moves: 10 ways to make a powerful difference can indeed be a new year’s journey. Change the world, change yourself. Or vise versa. Available through your favorite source for books. And an autographed copy is still available at 
It’s late 2019 and I’m writing this in Thailand, a country where I don’t know the language and have only the vaguest knowledge of the customs. While I was here once before, it seems more difficult this time to actually get anywhere. The last time I was here I stayed with extended family members who would talk to taxi drivers for me. But on this trip, these same people are letting me experiment with what it might be like to live here. I have a small, family owned condo far (or it seems far) from any public transportation. The first time I tried to go somewhere the taxi dropped me off at a major bus station instead of the Sky Train that was my destination. The first cab I tried to hail to take me back home wouldn’t take me even though I showed him the address written out in Thai.
Oh, OK. Do I need help? No, I’m fine. I have my Thai phone and have signed up for the equivalent of an Uber service called Grab. I’ve almost figured out how to find locations where drivers can easily find me to pick me up to get home. I can walk from my condo to a mall that has restaurants, a grocery store, and place to buy an umbrella, water glasses, and a pitcher, which were the only things that seemed missing from “my” apartment. I have also learned that I make way too many assumptions. Somehow I expect people to know what I want, but the truth is that they’re waiting to be asked. People are glad when I do ask for whatever.
So who am I? I just found a coffee shop where I can write on my computer. I still haven’t created a space at home where I can write easily. And I’ve met multiple people (well, six) who are concerned about the process of being present. Through that connection I received an invitation to join a writing group. But I’m guessing that these activities aren’t part of a true identity either. There is a me beyond the one who likes coffee shops for writing and enjoys talking about “just being.”
Somewhere beyond this list of would be busyness there is a calm where possibility is created. Unfortunately it is also a place a bit beyond words which is all I have here. It is an extreme manifestation of what I’ve written before in 
Somehow I again forgot to request “no straw” with my water. But maybe I’m forgiven. Wait staff at my usual breakfast spots and a few bars never bring me one, so I forget that at some places people put them in drinks automatically. Why no straw? Straws don’t degrade easily; they increase trash; and I don’t particularly like them. So for me they’re a waste.
However some little and some not so little things have happen as they should and do. Every Saturday, I go to our local farmer’s market. While I’m there, I always collect a hug from a woman selling a newspaper that covers stories about the concerns of street people. The paper is sold by homeless or otherwise indigent people, instead of their begging for money. Somehow I never remember the name of the woman I stop to see, although she regularly bawls me out for being outside with wet hair and tells me about her dog and her husband. So, I figured I’d ask her name! (Again.) This time, I entered it in my phone and, with her permission, took a photo to go with it. As I walked around the market, I realized that these, too, are little things. Connecting with others. Learning names. I also realized I wanted to tell this story to you. So, I found my newspaper seller again. “Do you care if I use your picture on line?” “No,” she replied, “don’t do that. There were these people…[and another story ensued].” “OK, so I won’t use your name,” I said. “Oh, you can use my name,” she answered. “Just not my picture.” So here are other little things. Respect everyone. Ask for permission. Her name is Julie in case I need you to help me remember it.
The other two things happened by my following what my body wanted to do which is part of the challenge of 
Plus, for me there are the ongoing little things such as to remember to 
I’m excited about this new year. Maybe it’s because 2018 ended with an almost violent reset. A relationship I knew wasn’t forever ended suddenly. Maybe because my continued quest to “just be” has become more second nature with practice. Or perhaps it’s because I have an ongoing commitment to hope and possibility.
I did get to Hawaii, the first planned bucket list item I’ve done in years. So, somehow one can plan and “just be” at the same time, which is a skill I’m slowly learning. One buys the tickets or makes the plan — but you know that action is separate from the trip or the event. If it happens, it happens. For example, when I was ill at the end of 2016, I had to cancel two plane trips, but wasn’t penalized at all for doing so. Last year, I bought tickets for an event before my relationship ended and I wound up going to the concert with a completely unexpected someone for a supportive and gentle, and unplanned, afternoon.
On 
I don’t know about you, but when things seem obvious to me, I don’t even think about them. It’s beyond thinking that they’re equally clear to everyone. A communication about whatever it is really isn’t even on my mind. This is why I’m always getting in trouble because I don’t mention things like, well, I’m not coming up with anything because I’m not even thinking about it. It just is. 
These were just off the top of my head. But the first time I realized that what was obvious to me wasn’t always obvious to others occurred during a misguided stint teaching English and theatre. Oh, I had
Recently, while increasingly living moment-to-moment “in the present,” which I began sharing in 
The hiatus of staring out windows and at keyboards has also increased my minute-by-minute appreciation of how interesting and beautiful the world is. It’s increased my gratitude to the couple of people who have read the book and thought it had the right degree of personal-ness and length. And I’ve gotten back to “obvious.” I now have a determination to look again at the book’s beginning, to see where I’m making assumptions. To indeed make it clearer and, ideally, more interesting.
By the way, the book’s working title right now is Moxie Moves: 10 easy ways to make a powerful difference.