Month: September 2009

art, fate, home

My Year of Hopefulness – A New Lease on Life

Christa Avampato

Today I went into my old apartment for the next to last time. I was there with the insurance adjuster and the movers. I marked what things I hoped they could salvage, they boxed it up, and took it away for cleaning. At first it was a routine exercise though I’d be lying if I said I didn’t tear up a little. It’s a difficult thing to see all of your belongings damaged, things you worked so hard for, things that have sentimental value, things that connect you to people you love and times long ago. The severing of that tie, despite its materialistic nature, can be hard to bear.

The dry cleaners were supposed to be scheduled for today as well but there was an appointment mix-up so I’ll just meet them tomorrow. They’ll be there at 10:30 tomorrow morning and once that piece is done, I’ll close the door for the last time on an apartment that I had high hopes for. I imagined dinner parties with friends, out-of-town guests, a little dog livening up the place. I’d be cooking in my eat-in kitchen, writing away. It was to be a little den of creativity for the next year. Instead it taught me the lesson of a lifetime – how precious and short every day is. We so often live close to the edge and don’t even know it. One minute, I’m writing on my computer, buying iTunes songs (‘Landslide’ by Fleetwood Mac was downloading at the time the fire broke out), and then my kitchen floor is crackling and heaving the next moment. Life’s funny that way. So unpredictable.
At 1:00 this afternoon, I signed the lease to my new apartment and by the kindness of the building managers I can move in immediately. The building was designed by Emery Roth, a renowned architect, whom I’d never heard of until this afternoon. He lived in the building for many years, just down the hall from me, in a 9-room apartment (much larger than mine!). He designed many well-known iconic residential structures in New York City including the El Dorado, the San Remo, and the Warwick Hotel. His firm, Emery Roth & Sons, continued on long after his death and designed many well-known New York City buildings including the World Trade Center (a little spooky that on 9/11 I’d sign a lease at a building designed and inhabited by the man whose firm designed the World Trade Center), the Bronx High School of Science, and the Hemsley Palace Hotel.
As the leasing VP if my new building said, “it’s almost as if you were meant to end up here rather than your other apartment.” At first I thought she was just saying that to make me feel better. Now, I’m wondering if there’s more to her comment than just that simple, surface sentiment. According to Wikipedia, “The extensive architectural records and papers of both Emery Roth and Emery Roth & Sons are now held in the Department of Drawings & Archives at the Avery Architectural and Fine Arts Library at Columbia University.” Once I am settled in, I will have to pay that library a visit. There’s some kind of story here, and now that the wheels of my mind are turning this way again, I know I’m well on my way to being my old self again, with an even greater appreciation for life and all of the mysteries it holds.
The photo above is not mine. It depicts the San Remo designed by Emery Roth. It can be found on Wired New York, an on-line community created by Edward Sudentas for people who love New York City art and architecture.
fear, grateful, home, insomnia, nature, sleep, stress, thankful, weather

My Year of Hopefulness – Cleansing

Christa Avampato

It’s the middle of the night and I’m having a tough time sleeping. I’ve become accustomed to insomnia as I’ve had it off and on for most of my life. Tonight is a little eerie though. I’m awake because of the wind. It’s keeping me up long past my bedtime. It’s so gusty that as I was walking back to my friend, Amber’s, apartment, I could feel the weather bearing down on me. For a moment I almost lost my footing. You’d think this was Chicago in the winter the way the gusts are going. We rarely have wind like this, especially at the beginning of September.

I can’t help but think that this odd wind is a way for the greater universe to say to me that my life is being cleaned out, and it must be this way as tough as the circumstances may be. With these gusts will go all of the bad energy from the fire. And with that energy will go the fear as well – mine, and my neighbors’, family’s, and friend’s fears, too. Rather than it being a disturbing wind, perhaps it’s trying to be of great use at a time of great need. Maybe a strong, forceful wind is exactly what’s called for in times of stress. At least I’m hoping that’s the case.
As I headed from The Empire Hotel toward the subway tonight, for a second I thought “damn, all my warm clothes might be ruined. I have nothing to wear!” And then a second later I started laughing, out loud. Who cares? So I will have to buy some new warm clothing now that Fall has arrived. I stopped for a moment right by Columbus Circle and looked up at the sky, the clouds faintly swirling and swishing in the very dark sky. I said a prayer to whatever and whoever is up there looking down on me, blowing all the smoke away so that I might see and think a bit more clearly. “Thank you,” I said. “I’m glad I’m here to witness this.” And I’ve never meant any 9 words more in my life.
The image above is not my own. It can be found here.
faith, friendship, home, luck

My Year of Hopefulness – A Lucky Place to Lay My Head

Christa Avampato

My friend, Liz (another unwitting angel), was able to connect me to a friend of hers regarding an apartment. Her friend sent me the management company’s contact info. I emailed them right away and they were able to show me a studio apartment that’s available immediately, in my same neighborhood, in my price range. This story is miraculous enough with just these details though the other coincidences are striking.

My apartment building caught fire on Saturday afternoon and by tonight, I have a new place to live. It’s a pent house studio with outdoor space, lots of light, a dishwasher, full-size appliances, a very large closet, doorman, elevator, laundry in-building, art deco building, only one month security, no broker fee, beautiful view of the skyline and the Hudson River. Skeptical? Me too. It gets better.
It’s one of the first buildings in New York City that takes American Express as a form of payment for rent. And until this morning, the apartment had been listed as having an application in. It’s been that way for weeks. However, the application fell through some time ago and the list did not update for some odd reason until this morning.
Tomorrow I will get two checks for the realty company and at lunchtime will hop uptown to sign the lease. This apartment hunt all wrapped up in less than 48 hours and I got a space where I feel safe. Life changes so fast. All we can do is be ready – for good luck and bad luck. Both are bound to turn up in our lives at one time or another. And while I hope I have seen the later of these for some time to come, I’m so abundantly grateful that during this difficult transition I’ve still been able to find, receive, and recognize blessings.
courage, fear, home, story

My Year of Hopefulness – Honest conversations

Christa Avampato

This morning I broke down a little. After the initial shock of the apartment building fire, I went into panic mode when considering the legal binding agreement of my lease. Could I be held accountable for the remainder of my lease? If I didn’t pay it, could I be sued? I wound myself up, immediately firing off emails asking for advice. I even talked to a personal friend and family friend who are attorneys. Then I met with a broker who showed me a few apartments and he wound me up all over again. By the time I sat down at 11:00AM my head was hurting and spinning.

So I took it to the extreme, my usual MO when trying to calm myself down. Okay, what’s the worst that could happen? I wouldn’t get my deposit back. I wouldn’t get my September rent back. I’d be held liable for the remainder of my lease or be taken to small claims court. That’s the worst. And it sucks, but as I learned this weekend, it just sucks.
So rather than continuing to wind myself up, I decided to pick myself up, cart myself off to my own apartment, and meet with my landlord, explaining that I just cannot stay. And I took LOTS of photos. It’s just not livable and it’s not safe. The whole subway ride I just kept repeating to myself, “I just want out of that place and into some place safe.” And I could swear someone said “okay”.
I took a deep breathe and explained my feelings to my landlord. I choked up a little bit and was mad at myself for that. He looked at me with a bit of surprise. He couldn’t believe that I even thought he would hold me to the lease, keep my deposit, and keep my September rent. Not at all. He released me from the lease, will return my deposit, and refund my September rent. Of course. No problem at all. My lease is null and void and his insurance will cover the lost rent and deposit.
That’s all it took – an honest face-to-face conversation and knowing exactly what I wanted and why. Sometimes the stories we tell ourselves are far worse that what actually comes to be. Far better to get it all out there in the open than bottle it up. The result is likely to be better than anything we imagine.
change, faith, family, friendship, hope, love

My Year of Hopefulness – Unwitting Angels

Christa Avampato

I believe in guardian angels, divine moments of intervention, and the continuous play between the world we see and the world just beyond our vision. While I do believe that angels walk among us, I also believe that we have the ability, at every moment, to be angels to one another.

In the aftermath of the fire in my apartment building, there is a lot of chaos. I am now dealing with adjusters from my renter’s insurance. (Thank God I have renter’s insurance. If you don’t, please stop reading this post and by it immediately through Liberty Mutual at http://www.libertymutual.com. A $181 annual premium buys you $25,000 worth of coverage with a $500 deductible.) I also have buyer’s protection on my charge card so I need to make an inventory for them so I can be reimbursed for damaged items. I have to find a new place to live. I’ll have to rebuild a stock of personal items.
And you know what? It’s all okay. I am monumentally lucky to be alive and physically unscathed. Much of that is due to the amazing love and support and concern of my friends and family, from people who read my online writing and follow my usually fun antics on Twitter. This is the power of community. This is the power of unwitting angels – people who show up as little rays of light just when we need that light most. It’s always there, it sometimes just takes a different lens of experience to see it.
My friend, Amber, one of my unwitting angels in this situation, has graciously offered me her apartment for the week while she’s out of town. I came to pick up the keys from her, and we got to talking about how incidents like my apartment building fire change our perspective. She thinks I will quickly adopt the policy of “omeletitgo” – I’m just gonna let it all go. From this point forward, all those little frustrations and annoyances that build up in our day to day lives just don’t matter. The physical stuff we accumulate just doesn’t matter. If all goes up in smoke, it doesn’t matter.
All that does matter is kindness. How do we support and love and care for one another in good times and bad? How can we help those in crisis? How can we serve one another to make all of our days a bit easier? How can we all be a part of the global brigade of unwitting angels?
The image above is not my own and can be found here.
friendship, home, luck

My Year of Hopefulness – Go the Other Way

Christa Avampato

I went to the US Open today. It was a welcome relief from yesterday’s chaos and the fallout that is about to ensue. I’m not at all pleased with the landlord’s response to the fire in my building. There will not be any additional safety measures taken to secure the building and they will not do any cleaning of the units. In his words “You should probably feel safe living there.” Thanks, for nothing. So as soon as possible, I’ll be on the move again and in the mean time I am grateful, as always, for the amazing friends in my life who are helping me out through this difficult time. I am blessed to be alive and surrounded by so many incredible souls.

At the US Open, I was watching the Del Porto vs. Koehlerer match. It was an amazing competition to watch. I was sitting next to a few young kids, probably high school age, who wanted to get the wave going. They tried in one direction and got barely any traction. After a few unsuccessful attempts, they gave up, and then someone from a section in the opposite direction told the high schoolers to pass the wave over to them. It caught on like wildfire, and went all the way around the stadium, several times, including through the section that hadn’t taken it up when the wave was passed directly to them.

Fun to watch, the wave helped me adjust to my changing situation. I was getting so upset about my apartment, about not having a place to live, again, having to crash with friends, again, and the general attitude and lack of concern from my landlord. Keith put things in perspective for me. My apartment building is not safe, and I’m so disturbed by the lack of concern that my landlords are showing for their tenants that I’m never going to be comfortable there. So better to just adjust, pack, and go someplace else. “Yes, it sucks,” Keith said. “But that’s all. It just sucks. You’re okay, a lot of your things are okay, and all you have to do is move.”

I have accept that this change has happened, and now I have to change, too. Getting frustrated and angry at the situation won’t help, no matter how angry or frustrated I get. Just like the high schoolers and the wave, I need to go in the opposite direction. It’s the only way forward. So here I go again…

health, home, New York City

My Year of Hopefulness – Fire

Christa Avampato

Today I was more scared that I’ve ever been. I’m blogging tonight from the a comforting home of a friend, smelling soot and ash from my laptop that is likely ruined. My apartment building caught fire today.

I’m fine. Most of my belongings are fine. At around 1:00pm I heard the floor of my kitchen crackling and the floor began to heave. I grabbed my keys and went downstairs to tell my neighbor to stop doing whatever he was doing. And then the stairwell filled with thick black smoke.

I couldn’t see anything – it was as if I had a blindfold on. I got as low as I could, scrambled down three flights, and yelled as loud as I could. Apparently my yelling helped some of my neighbors get out of the building. No smoke alarms went off, or at leas none of the ones I pass on my way downstairs.

It was a curious thing. I felt like I was flying down those stairs, as if someone was carrying me. My apartment is largely untouched, despite that most of my neighbors around me have apartments that are virtually destroyed. And just this morning I was talking about the importance of renters’ insurance and how I’d never had anything like a house fire happen to me. It’s all a bit eerie. I’m worried I may never feel at home in that apartment again and yet, I’m also very much aware that someone, somewhere was and is protecting me.

My greatest fear was that I’d pass out on the stairs, dying from smoke inhalation. And even though I got a face full of soot, I never once felt like I was suffocating. I only had the fear of suffocating. Very different. Truthfully, I came out that front door with a scratch, bump, or bruise on me. I was just fine. Only shaken.

And now I wonder if this one event is enough. As if I weren’t already painfully aware of time passing by, now I think I might be turning a corner, again, in my quest for a whole, joyful life. It seems that now I really don’t have any reason to be afraid. That there is no time like the present to grab ahold of everything I ever wanted to do or be. A few more minutes in that building, and the ending of my story could have been much different. I might not be writing this blog post tonight.

We’re all always on borrowed time. Now, it seems impossible to me that I could ever forget that. And for this borrowed time, I am most grateful. I learned today that I really don’t need any possessions I have. All I needed was my health. I just needed to be okay. The rest can be replaced. All of it. Amazing how it takes something so traumatic to truly know something so basic.

Already I feel the gloom lifting and the light settling in. Already I know that I will be more than okay, that today I begin never, ever looking back. Today I start moving forward with a new energy to build the greatest life I possibly can. And again, I feel like I am flying, as if someone is carrying me. And I know they are.

family, mother, simplicity

My Year of Hopefulness – My Mother Makes Room

Christa Avampato

“The only real elegance is in the mind; if you’ve got that, the rest really comes from it.” ~ Diana Vreeland

Today my mom began the slow and sometimes painful process of emptying. My mom is an extremely skilled collector, meaning that she never, ever gets rid of anything or anyone. She likes to be surrounded, with things, with people. It gives her comfort and she’s always had in mind that eventually someday she’d get to that magazine, or that book, or that craft project or conversation she was meaning to have. And someday she’ll get to some of them, but truthfully, she won’t ever get through all of it. There is 35 years of stuff in her house and today it was time for a good chunk of that stuff to go.

I’ve been thinking about this process of emptying, wiping the slate clean, and beginning again. It’s a task best done often and thoroughly. It’s amazing what piles up in our homes, lives, and minds. Even in our writing. I’ve tried to approach my own process of emptying with an attitude of elegance. Consider modern design, of anything really. Clean lines, simplicity, removing the unnecessary so the necessary can speak. I’m trying not to think of it as throwing out, but making room to breath and to move.

While on the surface all this emptying sounds like it would be a great relief, as if a huge weight has been lifted from us, I must confess that in some ways it is a bitter sweet relief. My mom had to let go of a lot of memories in order to make that room in her home. She had to recognize that certain parts of her life are gone. It’s a brave thing she did – to let go. There are so many people who never do that, who can never face up to the fact that life is moving by at a very quick pace, and that sometimes there are some things that must be let go of. We can’t possibly hang on to it all.

My mom is an elegant woman – she has handled far more than her fair share of obstacles and disappointments. She’s suffered huge losses of many things and people, losing some after many hard fought struggles, and through it all she worked hard to keep a face of elegance and grace. She got through it by putting her mind in order and saying that right now she just needs to get from A to B, and tomorrow she’ll consider getting to C. We were her first priority always, no matter what, so I guess that made some decisions easier to make. She was never going to do anything that wasn’t good for her kids. She is by every definition an elegant mother.

So now as she enters the autumn of her life with a less full home in every sense, she has the room and space to decide how to place what remains. And though now it may look like there are unnatural holes and pockets, my guess is that she will find a way to make it all fit together. By removing what was no longer needed, she uncovered and rediscovered lost treasures and memories and ideas, things that will enrich her life going forward. It will just take some time to get used to.

children, community service, education, love

My Year of Hopefulness – One Life at a Time

Christa Avampato
“It does not require a majority to prevail, but rather an irate, tireless minority keen to set brush fires in people’s minds.” ~ Sam Adams

It’s a glorious thing to get to live a day exactly the way we want it to be. This weekend, I’ll be trying on the costume of a full-time entrepreneur. I’m getting ready to send my after-school program proposal to public school principals. Checking every “i” and “t” in the proposal, researching the best fit schools to target, and beginning to write the curriculum. I’m already fantasizing about spending tomorrow at my kitchen table, writing while the afternoon sun softly filters through the windows. It will be glorious.

Except when I’m scared, which I often am, when considering this proposal. If I think for too long about the task before me, my stomach starts doing back flips and my eyes well up. There are so many kids who have so little and need so much. I’m one person, with one little project. What kind of impact will that have when I consider that I want to reach hundreds of thousands, millions, of kids around the world? I am one small person. When I’m alone, this thought comes to the forefront of my mind and is undeniable.

I was just on the phone with someone, explaining why this project is so important, why it matters, and why I have to do this now. As I spoke, I felt the strength rising within me, the tears of frustration turned to tears of possibility and hope and dreams realized. And then he said something to me that I wish I could box up and carry around with me forever. Something that Jane Goodall communicated last night, too. He said that while I might need to pour everything I’ve got into this curriculum, that’s only half of the program. The other half will be the love I give while teaching. Love I can give – I know I’m good at that. So now I know I’m already halfway there.

Last night, the 92Y had a slide show running with quotes and photos of Jane Goodall pertaining to her work around the world. One quote that struck me so hard was one in which she talked about having goals with a wide-reaching impact. “Although the challenges seem daunting at times, this is ultimately the only way to make lasting change – one life at a time.” My pilot program is for 10 kids, barely a drop in the bucket compared to how many need this program. My hope is that those 10 will help others in turn, and so on. We’ll use leverage and multiplicative efforts to achieve this ideal of helping every kid grow up to be a productive, creative, empowered adult.

Yes the challenges are daunting. They’re downright overwhelming. I know in my heart that we can do this, that a small group of passionate people can start to set the world going in the right direction. Simply put, that’s all I’m trying to do.

animals, environment, hope, nonprofit, philanthropy

My Year of Hopefulness – Jane Goodall

Christa Avampato

Tonight I went to 92Y to hear Jane Goodall, one of the people I admire most. Today she released a new book, Hope for Animals and Their Endangered World. It’s been 49 years since Jane began her landmark study about chimpanzees in the Gombe National Park. She was a 26 year old woman, had never attended university, grew up in a family with very few financial resources, and attempted to document the intimate details of the lives of these animals when she had no formal training on how to do this work. I read one of her many previous book, Reason for Hope, about 10 years ago. Tonight she seemed even more hopeful about the fate of the world and our ability to reverse so much of the damage we’ve done.

Jane writes, speaks, and works for hope. “Without hope, there’s no action,” she said. “My job is to give people hope.” And in the next breathe she talked about the rapid melting of the ice caps and the immense negative impact we’ve had on our planet in a few short decades. Some times, like all of us, she loses heart and becomes overwhelmed with all that we have to do to improve the world.

“So in the face of all that’s negative in the world,” Howard Gardner, the moderator asked, “how can you remain so hopeful?”

“Well, there are several simple reasons,” Jane said:

1.) We have amazing brains that are very good at problem-solving, and they get even sharper when we have our backs against the wall and we need to solve a seemingly impossible problem. Individuals take action. In England, just today, there is a program that started called 10 10. It’s aim is for individuals and companies to reduce their carbon footprint by 10% in 2010. I’d like to see that spread and become a worldwide effort.

2.) Nature is resilient. If we give it time, it grows back.

3.) Young people have so much courage. Take the Roots & Shoots program we have. It is about young people getting together and taking action to do amazing things in the world.

4.) The human spirit is indomitable. Look at Nelson Mandela. 17 years in hard labor prisons, and he comes out still able to forgive.

I found her hope contagious. She has spent her entire life planting seeds within people she meets, encouraging them to action, and setting an example for the extraordinary things we can all do with our lives. Most of all, I was touched an inspired by her approach to her work and her life. She always approaches everything from a place of love. Her one dream in her life was to work with animals. A very simple cause that live in the heart, not the head. She spent so much time with the chimps in Gombe National Park because she loved them, not because they were some scientific experiment. She cared deeply about their welfare, and wanted to share their story with others.

I’ve always looked to Jane as an activist, as someone with a lot of courage and confidence, who braved the world of science for our benefit. What I did not realize until tonight is what a strong example she is for young women. When she was 11, she dreamed of traveling to Africa and working with animals there. Her school friends laughed at her, and yet the strong women who comprised her household encouraged her to dream as big as she good and then go after those dreams. In her work with animals, she’s made all of us more human. She’s connected us to create a global community of deeply committed, concerned participants.

After an extensive Q&A session, Howard Gardner took one more audience question: “Jane, how do you reconcile science and religion?” She sighed slightly and closed with a brilliant line that will ring in my head for days to come. “I wish we would stop worrying about how we came to and come together to figure out how we’re going to get our of this mess we’ve gotten ourselves into.” Jane’s been trying to figure this out for a long time – she’s dedicated her life to this cause – and it’s about time we all join her.

To learn more about the Jane Goodall Institute (JGI), click here. In 2010, a new movie, Jane’s Journey, will be released. It chronicles Jane’s remarkable life and career.

The photo above depicts Jane Goodall and is taken her the JGI website.