“Having moxie means having enough cleverness, skill, creativity, fortitude and cajones to solve (or, at least, to get out of) a difficult and personally threatening situation.”
– Urban Dictionary
Peacocks are an indigenous bird in Dallas, TX. They populate many area offices, health clubs and bars. Haven’t seen them? Actually, we’re overrun. At your gym, look for the guy in the shredded t-shirt hanging off his boulder-esque shoulders by two small threads, guns uh blazin,’ massive pecs on display, gallon jug uh water always nearby. He grunts as he slams his dumbbells on the mat. Down below the skinniest little pretzel sticks protruding from his shorts. Or, in the conference room, he’s the one who says, “I think what you meant to say was (insert condescending redirect)…” Always correcting, never listening. At the bar, he’s the one laughing the loudest, yelling at the screen for all to hear. Yep, pretty much the perfect dudes to never have a beer with. “Peacocking” is a favorite word, as in, “Damn that dude is peacocking. What a jackass.”
Moxie on the other hand, is pure gold. It doesn’t have negative connotations in the same way pride and ambition do. Both of those are slippery slopes if not handled with care, like a little girl playing with mommy’s lipstick: cute for a few minutes, but don’t go overboard. The Urban Dictionary captures moxie well, and another dictionary says, “Strength of mind that enables one to endure adversity with courage.” Synonyms for moxie are backbone, grit, gumption, guts, fortitude.
This week I had separate lunches with two friends, both of whom display moxie. How so? Because both had stories of getting their teeth kicked in, and not quitting on life. Oh for sure, they ended up in a fetal position, but they got back up. There’s a consistency to the tribe of folks where humility was brought to them in the form of an ass-kicking. Whether business failure, adultery, or dreams that died a messy death, the result is a fortitude, a deep reservoir of knowing what’s real and what’s horseshit. Those folks speak about the mystery of God, they recognize our human frailty; their language is colored with phrases like “Damned if I know what’s going to happen. I hope it works out, but that’s above my pay-grade.” A Dallas peacock is a lost ship in this discussion, at best giving a Hallmark platitude. A peacock thinks he (or she) is the one navigating the chessboard, and doesn’t recognize their relative “ant-ness” in the grand scheme.
Years ago I remember having lunch with a gentlemen I was speaking with about the possibility of him stepping into the role of CEO with a business I was trying to scale. He had a stellar resume as a turnaround specialist with a well-known company in our space. He had also orchestrated an IPO with another company. We met several times, and at our final lunch, I asked him to talk about some of his failures in life. He was 70-ish at the time, so I expected a knowing smile and deep breath before hearing some of the war stories. Instead, he blinked and asked “What do you mean?” I tried to reframe the question, “Um, you know, like setbacks, unexpected grenades. Personal, business, you name it.” With an air of affront, he replied, “I haven’t had any.” And scene. Lunch and relationship concluded.
Can Moxie be Manufactured?
As much as I love me some moxie, juxtapose it with some of the greatest literature ever transcribed, the Sermon on the Mount known as the Beatitudes from Matthew 5:1-12.
Now when Jesus saw the crowds, he went up on a mountainside and sat down. His disciples came to him, and he began to teach them.
He said:
“Blessed are the poor in spirit,
for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
Blessed are those who mourn,
for they will be comforted.
Blessed are the meek,
for they will inherit the earth.
Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness,
for they will be filled.
Blessed are the merciful,
for they will be shown mercy.
Blessed are the pure in heart,
for they will see God.
Blessed are the peacemakers,
for they will be called children of God.
Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness,
for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
Blessed are you when people insult you, persecute you and falsely say all kinds of evil against you because of me. Rejoice and be glad, because great is your reward in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you.”
Pretty much everything about the Beatitudes is what’s called the upside-down Kingdom of God. A quick Bible study primer: when scripture repeats the same words in a section, chapter or book, it usually means God wants us to pay attention. In this case blessed. In other words, Jesus is saying, “Wanna be blessed? This is what it looks like in my world.” Our culture lives the opposite of what Christ is saying in the Sermon on the Mount. I don’t want to be blessed from my weakness, meekness, mourning and hunger; or when people insult or persecute me. I don’t regularly show mercy, particularly with people I don’t like. Do I hunger and thirst for righteousness? For moments, but only if it looks favorable to me. In fact, if I pause and think about what I want on some days, it looks entirely like a boozy night in Vegas, and very little like the Kingdom of God. Can I generate my own moxie? Nope, not without failure. All those synonyms don’t come from winning. When things come to easy, moxie can’t exist. Being able to withstand what Christ is speaking of above, requires a sort of supernatural peaceful moxie that may move outside the lanes of the definition. It’s like asking a person to create genuine humility. They can’t, not without an action from outside themselves that forces acknowledgement of powerlessness. Aging is an example. Can’t control it, and sure as shit proves our physical weakness.
I often wish we had the option of dismissing the Bible and its challenging content. As I’ve mentioned in previous posts, many people look past scripture, it has no meaning to their lives. But can we do that? In other words, do we have the authority to say, “The stories don’t matter to me, I live life as I see fit.” I like to drill down deep into the history of the document, because there is no document with as much veracity. Is it reasonable to believe the Bible is essentially a centuries old version of the telephone game? Maybe a bunch of folks kept passing made-up stories down to the next generation. Not for 20 years, not for 100 years, but for 3,500 years give or take. That’s a helluva viral campaign, passing through centuries, countries, and kings and queens. Sure, it could be that the 39 authors, most of whom didn’t know each other, over a 1,600 yr period (skirting that whole death problem), somehow were able to keep the connectivity and lucidity of the narrative without any divine guidance. Or, there’s the option of the Bible being absolutely true, every story, including the Beatitudes preached by Christ who died and rose again. If that’s true, He’s your, mine and every peacock’s Lord and Savior, and we need the grit, fortitude and humility to accept the fact.
See ya next time. ML