Anyone Seen My Mojo?
- Victoria Hogg

- Oct 16, 2025
- 3 min read
Hello Mojo Lovers... |
You’ve got to love a mojo. Yours or someone else’s. It’s always great to see when someone’s mojo is in full swing. Ever had that feeling where there used to be a spark but now it’s all a bit bleh? That’s when you might’ve lost your mojo. A mojo is a magical personal charm, power, or influence. It’s your charisma, confidence, or energy. We all have one. Which makes it sting all the more when it slips away. Finding it again isn’t easy. It’s elusive, frustrating. 💡 With your mojo you dance like Travolta; without it, you’re more… Travolt-ing. Here’s the thing, it’s often easier to spark someone else’s mojo than to find your own. As we say in improv: “make your partner look good”. |

TRY IT OUT: 💘 Our weekly tip or trick - from applied improv to you.
Hey, Nice Buttons!
When the moment suits, throw in a compliment into a relaxed conversation. Make it small, specific, genuine, totally sincere. Maybe how someone opens doors for others, holds their tea with grace, or yes, the awesome-ness of their jacket buttons.
You won’t have rehearsed this. It’s dependent on the moment and it cannot feel forced. You’ll be ‘Yes, And’-ing the situation, the conversation and your ‘scene partner’ to make them look - and feel - good.
Notice their reaction. Does it lift them? For inspiration, watch Troy Hawke in action. A master of micro-compliments and mojo-lifting moments.
You never know, your compliments might raise their mojo - and maybe even your own at the same time.
“Mojo is that moment when you’re fully yourself: no pretending, no proving, just flow” Elizabeth Gilbert (author: ‘Eat, Pray, Love’; TEDs on Creativity)
Something collective…
Morning Rubber Dubbers! One of the random greetings I [Paul] give to the local infant school office staff. It means nothing. In the same way that cracker-jacks, skinny-dippers or juke-box dancers are not badges of honour or labels to wear. It’s just me offering a cheery hello that breaks up the usual school day.
And yet, the childish greeting somehow does something. It has it’s own magic power. It draws a smile, often a laugh, sometimes an affectionate ‘not you again’ chuckle. My unpredictable greeting acts have become predictable, anticipated even, and hey… it brightens their day. That’s all that’s intended: to give them a moment’s lift in passing.
For the record, my youngest daughter is a pupil at this school. I don’t just rock up off the street shouting quips to a bunch of complete strangers.
Something determined…
These small words… the, a, an, and, of… They’re known as Determiners! Nah, let’s put them on a higher platform and call them The Determiners. Every sentence, paragraph, story: they have them. Every quote, soundbite, words of wisdom? They all need them. They are the lynchpins, the glue, that hold the bigger more clever words together. To help give them their sense and place.
I performed in two improvised plays recently. My mojo was missing, I’d felt. And yet, was it really? Looking back, metaphorically, I played more of a Determiner role. Offering seemingly little, and yet without these limited offerings the whole would not have made sense. The take-away? Well even the smallest offerings can set-up, underpin, support or introduce the magic moment. A moment that may not happen without The Determiners!
If your mojo is missing, then instead, be The Determiner for those around you.
“Sometimes you lose your spark and sometimes you get it back in a single conversation”
Something bounced around…
We were just talking about you... Ever had that moment? It happened to met today. A simple sign that the stars can circle around you without you even knowing, or caring where your mojo is at.
I’d reached out to a blast from the past naming another old pal in my notable mentions. And honestly, they replied saying the two of them were actually together that day and my note was well timed. Knowing they work in different cities, this was more than a coincidence. This was my mojo bouncing around waiting to find its mark. I’ll take that.
All the best,
Paul (and Vic)


