my moxie is gone and i want her back.
she’s grown legs and run off.
i’ve lost her and she is nowhere to be found.
Dictionary.com defines moxie as a slang term meaning “courageous spirit and determination; perseverance: The pitcher showed his moxie in Sunday’s win. vigor; verve; pep.”
“Well…where’d you have it last?”
alright Wise Guy, cut the shit!
like the typical answer to that question, i don’t remember when i last laid eyes on my moxie. i think i’ve caught a few glimpses of her here and there, but she always evades my grasp.
i’m someone who survives and thrives with her moxie by her side. with my moxie stationed in her sidecar and me on my motorized stallion, matching scarves billowing in the wind, we are an unstoppable pair on the journey through life. with my moxie derailed and lost in a ditch along the highway, i am simply surviving. which i’m glad to be doing regardless!
my moxie is what fuels my wit, my one liners that blurt out of my mouth before i even have time to contemplate whether i should say it or not. my moxie takes me by the hand and leads me to the cute person that i’ve seen around but never talked to and pushes the thoughts of self-doubt away. she bellows “WHATS THERE NOT TO LIKE?! ARE YA KIDDING ME!!!” in the face of weary Insecurity. my moxie inspires me to make change and make things and tells me that i should rearrange my room at midnight because the bed just would undoubtedly look better in the corner.
my moxie convinces me that i have the hustle and the experience to create the life i’ve dreamed of since high school when i was daydreaming in the middle of personal finance class as Dave Ramsey droned on about mutual fund investments. she whispers sweet nothings in my ear when i stay up late partaking in countless google searches for any opportunity to get me the heck outta dodge as soon as possible.
my moxie drags me back to my love affair with the mindset that life is one big game, and the player with the best stories (and the best retellings of those stories), most loved ones, and the highest amount of laughs that make you smack the table and double over with your hand on your chest because you can’t breathe is the true winner.
i’ve been chasing my moxie for a while now, only catching a quick glance of her backside as i come around the corner of a Mood. normally, i do love the chase. just ask all the boys i’ve ghosted! i’m joking! (am i?) but my moxie has shapeshifted into Usain Bolt and i’m tired of running sprint repeats. i feel like flopping on the high jump mat and calling it a day.
maybe my moxie has just been subbed out for the Antimoxie: burnout. sometimes, even the strongest smudging and holy water can’t ward off the inevitable visit of the Antimoxie. nonetheless, i’ll invite the Antimoxie into my house and offer her something to drink. “Water? A cup of coffee, heavy on the sweet cream creamer? No? Oh okay. Well suit yourself!” i’ll say. we’ll sit side by side at the kitchen island and she’ll tell me things i don’t want to hear and force me to reevaluate my life’s priorities.
until we speak again, i’ll continue to bury my nose in my “things to look forward to” list in my notes app and keep on keepin’ on. maybe i won’t find my moxie on a dance floor past midnight, but i’ll have fun tryin’!
in summation, my moxie is my lifeblood, my quintessential zest for life. the question stands: can i find the old moxie again or can i take the gamble and create a new moxie from scratch?
mack
The Mackadamia Nut 