I feel alone and overwhelmed by the enormousness of this indefinite time frame known as “the future”. Even if I am perfectly happy, thinking about the future can turn me into a whirling dervish. This is why I do yoga, to calm my mind. This is why I stay as busy as possible, to keep myself in control. If I have a task at hand, then I can put my energy into that task. My mind is developing remarkable work-arounds to my distraction efforts. I’ll all of a sudden be walking down the street, finishing doing something or thinking about something, and next in the cue is always, always thinking about the future. “Hi self, Glad you took care of buying milk at the corner store. Now back to the matter at hand: the future.” “Good thing you worked out what you are going to say to Sleepy’s when you have to call them again to straighten out your bill. Time to think about the future, again.” And so it goes.
The funny thing about the future is that no matter how well you have it figured out, it just keeps coming. No such thing as a future tourniquet. If the future is coming, and it always is, then I’m worrying.
When I think about people from history that have exhibited calm, even in the face of great adversity, I think of the Dalai Lama, of Ghandi, and of Abraham Lincoln. It’s no wonder then that Mr. Lincoln would have said, “”The best thing about the future is that it comes only one day at a time.” So even if I am worried about 5 years down the line, next year, or next week, I only have to deal with it one small piece, a day, at a time.
The task of the future is too heavy, too much to bear today. Of course it is – I am one person, in one moment of time. I started to think about all the things I’ll do repetitively for the rest of my life and what it would be like to do them all in one moment. Let’s take how many bowls of cereal I’m going to eat between now and the day I die. I am hoping to live to be an ancient woman – my palm reader, Miss Susan, says this is highly likely. Let’s assume she is correct on that count. I also love cereal. I mean, really love cereal. If I could find a way to justify eating it for every meal, I would. So if I live 60 more years, that’s roughly 3000 weeks. If I eat about 4 bowls of cereal a week, that’s 12,000 bowls. Well, if ate all of those bowls RIGHT NOW, I’d probably die, or be very, very ill. Anything taken in such massive amounts is not good for us, and thinking about the future is no exception.
What Mr. Lincoln was saying is what we hear dietitians saying all of the time: the key is moderation. Take the future in tiny pieces, a bit at a time. Spoonful by delicious spoonful.
The above picture can be found at http://www.ars.usda.gov/is/np/fnrb/cereal1004.jpg
Published by Christa Avampato
IN BRIEF
Author, journalist, digital product manager, and licensed New York City tour guide. Creator and host of NYC's Secrets and Lies. Alumna of the University of Pennsylvania (BA), the Darden School of Business at the University of Virginia (MBA), Arizona State University (Biomimicry), and the University of Cambridge (MSt in Sustainability Leadership).
I build digital media platforms, report on urban climate resilience and biodiversity, and produce live narrative experiences that connect communities to history, nature, and place.
THE DEEP DIVE
My work centers on a single thread: building systems and stories that foster deep connection to our shared world. Across digital streaming, environmental reporting, and live civic storytelling, I design experiences that help people understand complex ideas and the environments around them.
DIGITAL PRODUCT STRATEGY & MEDIA LEADERSHIP
At Carnegie Hall, I serve as Digital Product Manager, leading product strategy, operations, and technical delivery for the video streaming platform Carnegie Hall+. I translate artistic mission into scalable, high-performance streaming architecture that reaches audiences globally. Previously, I led agile product and delivery teams across operations and compliance at American Express, managed Broadway theatrical productions and national tours, and guided strategic initiatives across cultural institutions.
ENVIRONMENTAL JOURNALISM & AUTHORSHIP
As a freelance journalist, I investigate how living systems, urban infrastructure, and human culture intersect. My reported features on urban decarbonization, biodiversity, coastal resilience, and biomimicry appear in publications including Smithsonian Magazine, The Washington Post, Mongabay, Natural History Magazine, and Foreign Policy Magazine. In fiction, I write the Emerson Page young adult novel series, alongside upcoming historical fiction and nonfiction works on New York history, mythology, and human resilience. I also write Togetherhood, a LinkedIn newsletter focused on urban ecology and community restoration, and co-host the podcast Frameworks in the Wild.
LIVE EXPERIENCE & CIVIC STORYTELLING
As a licensed New York City tour guide and live event producer, I transform urban landscapes into shared narrative encounters. I created, produce, and host NYC's Secrets and Lies, an interactive live storytelling series staged across cultural landmarks including the New York Transit Museum, the South Street Seaport Museum, and the historic tall ship Wavertree. I also design and lead site-specific walking tours exploring coastal ecology, food history, and neighborhood evolution, often with partners at Climate Week NYC and the Natural Areas Conservancy.
DOUBLE OR NOTHING MEDIA
Through my independent production studio, Double or Nothing Media, I develop ventures across media, ecology, and public history:
Digital Products & Strategy: Architecting scalable digital platforms, streaming experiences, and operational models for mission-driven institutions.
Environmental Reporting & Publications: Delivering long-form reporting, books, and newsletters grounded in climate resilience and regenerative design.
Site-Specific Live Storytelling: Producing immersive live shows and educational walking tours that engage public audiences in community history.
CONNECT
Website & Production Hub: doubleornothingmedia.com and christaavampato.com
Newsletter: Togetherhood on LinkedIn - linkedin.com/newsletters/togetherhood-7273771832221089792/
Instagram & Threads: @christarosenyc
Emerson Page Novels: emersonpagebook.wordpress.com/
View all posts by Christa Avampato
I feel alone and overwhelmed by the enormousness of this indefinite time frame known as “the future”. Even if I am perfectly happy, thinking about the future can turn me into a whirling dervish. This is why I do yoga, to calm my mind. This is why I stay as busy as possible, to keep myself in control. If I have a task at hand, then I can put my energy into that task. My mind is developing remarkable work-arounds to my distraction efforts. I’ll all of a sudden be walking down the street, finishing doing something or thinking about something, and next in the cue is always, always thinking about the future. “Hi self, Glad you took care of buying milk at the corner store. Now back to the matter at hand: the future.” “Good thing you worked out what you are going to say to Sleepy’s when you have to call them again to straighten out your bill. Time to think about the future, again.” And so it goes.
