Month: December 2009

dreams, hope, inspiration, nature, writing

My Year of Hopefulness – Castles in the Air

Christa Avampato

“Do not worry if you have built your castles in the air. They are where they should be. Now put the foundations under them.” ~ Henry David Thoreau

This is my 365th day of actively seeking out and writing about hope. This was my one New Year’s Resolution for 2009: to feel more hopeful and record what I found here on this blog to help others feel more hopeful, too.

On this day last year, I had no idea that my life would look as it does today, in any respect. I can say with great confidence that this has been a year filled with more change than any other year I have had. Part of me wonders if that is actually my doing: did I precipitate all of this change or did the change just happen to me? I suspect it’s a mix of the two. I can also say with great confidence that today I feel exponentially more hopeful than I did one year ago. And I hope that these 365 blog posts have made others a little more hopeful, too. If so, then I achieved what I set out to do in my writing in 2009.

There are so many reflections I have on this year of writing about hope, so many things I’ve learned about myself, about others, about my community, and about the world as a whole. However, one revelation stands far above the others: when I actively, passionately search for something, I will inevitably find it because I will not give up until my task is done. And the truly remarkable thing is that yes, if I span the globe I can find millions of pieces of hope “out there”, though the pieces of hope that mean the most to me are with me all the time. I carry them inside of me.

Now what will I do next? I’ve got overflowing buckets of hope; how can they be put to the best use? My pal, Laura, asked me this question about two months ago while we were at dinner. Without missing a beat, I told her that for the next year I’d do one thing every day that used all that hope to build an extraordinary life. The answer just sprang from my mouth, no thought required. It was a wish my heart made.

So here we go: beginning tomorrow, I will write a post every day in 2010 that will describe the one thing I did that day that put me one tiny step (or one great leap) closer to living an extraordinary life. The wheels of change are well greased from the events of 2009, so I expect more big changes in 2010. My friend, Kelly, has had a mantra all year of “begin again in 2010.” She’s a wise woman, someone who is both a friend and a mentor, and I’m taking her advice.

The final thought I have as I close out this year relates to nature, a topic from which I’ve drawn a lot of hopeful examples. It’s a butterfly analogy, though not the stereotypical one of beautiful re-birth. When a tiny caterpillar wraps itself up in a cocoon, it purposely constructs the cocoon to be very tight so that the butterfly has to struggle to emerge. It has to wiggle and turn and twist, completing exhausting itself inside the too-tight casing. There are oils on the inside of the cocoon and when the butterfly struggles the oils are distributed over its wings. It will not be able to free itself until the oils are distributed evenly over its wings. Those oils build a layer over the butterfly’s wings that keep the wings from breaking apart when it flies. Without the oil coating on its wings, the butterfly would break apart the moment it tried to fly.

I think about my own struggles, and the struggles of the world, through the lens of the butterfly. The twisting and turning is a painful process. It wears me out, and yet that struggle is so necessary to my development and success. I would never be able to fly without the distribution of its lessons throughout my life. I have struggled long enough and my struggles have done an excellent job of building up the foundation of my life. So let the flight begin toward my castles in the air.

adventure, family, holiday, travel

My Year of Hopefulness – Journeys We Don’t Plan

Christa Avampato

I recently saw the movie, Up!, an animated feature about Mr. Fredrickson, a grumpy old man remarkably similar in appearance and demeanor to Mr. Cunningham from Happy Days. All their lives, he and his wife dreamed of an adventure to South America, and she passed away before they had the chance to go. Wanting to fulfill the dream to honor her, he uses the asset of being a balloon salesman to sail south of the border, house in tow. That’s the adventure he planned.

He didn’t count on one of his neighbors being on the deck of his house when it took off. He didn’t think that he’d ever meet a rare bird named Kevin who would need his help so desperately or his greatest idol who would turn out to lack integrity. This was the part of the adventure he never imagined. Along the way, he lets goes of old heartaches and material possessions, makes new friends, and discovers how much courage his old soul can muster. These are the parts of the adventure that make his trip unforgettable.

My Christmas trip was a bit like Mr. Fredrickson’s. I had planned to stay home to study and write for the week between Christmas and the New Year; I hadn’t planned on going to Alabama at all. The opportunity presented itself, and I took it. On the banks of the Tennessee River in a small town named Tuscumbia, I learned how the term “Southern hospitality” came to be.

My brother-in-law’s family welcomed me with open arms, literally. His mom, Trish, had an extra chair at the table, an extra room where I could sleep and study, and extra gifts under the tree just for me. She taught me to make chicken and dressing, proved that any food can be whipped into a delicious casserole, and exhibited all of the love and graciousness that you’d expect from a woman whose greatest joy is her family. I learned about their complex family history, and was included in their family photos. In truth, an outsider looking in might never know that I was a guest who’d never spent a Christmas with that family. They took every opportunity to make me one of them.

Having grown up in small town, I appreciate the warm, cozy feeling of having memories in every nook and cranny. Kyle, my brother-in-law, showed me where he went to high school, where all his childhood friends lived and hung out as teenagers, and where his dad’s artwork (and therefore his spirit) still exists even though he’s no longer with us. I saw their old family photos and then understood the resemblance my niece, Lorelei, has to that side of the family. So much of their history and culture exists in their food and the memories of togetherness that their meals invoke, and I got to be a part of it. It was easy to see why Tuscumbia is a special kind of place.

On the long drive back to Florida, I thought of Kyle’s family a lot: how lucky I feel to have met them all and how much I appreciated being able to spend a holiday with them. I’ve always found that the experiences I love most in my life are the ones I don’t plan for – the job that came my way quite by accident, the friend I never planned to meet, the spur-of-the-moment trip that I never imagined I’d take. My trip to Alabama showed me how much joy we can find in the unexpected and unplanned, and I’d like to figure out how to make that kind of joy and the circumstances that create it a little more common in my life in 2010.

art, career, dreams, writing, yoga

My Year of Hopefulness – The Center

Christa Avampato

“The artists’ role is to do what’s honest for them. So if you’re in New York and everyone is looking at the floor, you can look up. It’s not your role to follow the others. It’s your role to go to your center and then reflect that, not just to be a mirror to what’s happening.” ~ James Hubbell

Here is a tricky balance to keep: how can we be mindful of what’s happening around us and also learn to follow our own hearts? It’s easy to get swept up in the moment, in the emotions and circumstances of others. In its best form, we know this as empathy. In its worst form, we know this as distraction. How can we see the whole picture, and also our own role in it? How can we see both the forest and the trees? The role of the artist, in any medium, demands this balance, and that balance is our Center.

Our Center is an elusive thing. We clearly know when we have moved away from our Center: it’s apparent in our lack of energy, enthusiasm, and joy. Finding and holding the Center, particularly in our daily adventures in chaos, is a tough thing because it sometimes requires that we disappoint others to be true to ourselves. It requires that we believe in ourselves and in our own abilities more than we believe in anything else. It asks us to take our future into our own hands.

There are three ways to know if we’ve found our Center:
1.) It makes time pass by so quickly and effortlessly that we barely notice how long we’ve been there.

2.) The activities we perform at our Center give us energy and we never grow tired of them.

3.) Our Center is the summation of the very best gifts we have to offer to the world.

For me, my Center is found in writing and yoga. I’ve been writing daily for three and a half years, and intermittently as far back into my childhood as I can remember. I’ve had a steady yoga practice for 10 years. Time has flown! These activities give me boundless energy and let me show my most joyful face to the world.

And so, I am taking James Hubbell’s: in 2010, I will go to my Center and reflect what is there. By the time 2010 is singing its swan song, I’ll find a way to make writing and yoga the Center of my life. I’ll find a way to earn my living through them. The ‘fierce urgency of now’ is calling me far too clearly to spend my life any other way.

philanthropy, social change, social entrepreneurship, volunteer

My Year of Hopefulness – Full-time Social Activist

Christa Avampato

Social activism has often been associated with people who work for nonprofits or for social enterprises, people who spend every waking moment on the front lines of generating social change. In actuality, social activism is everyone’s profession. With our every purchase, we make a statement about about how we wish to live in the world and the way we want our world to be. All of our choices reveal a piece of our character, reflect our values, and tell the world about our priorities. We don’t choose whether or not we are a social activist, we choose the social ideas that our mandatory activism represents.

On Christmas Day, I received one of my favorites gifts via email, and it clearly reflects my work as a social activist. A few months ago, I lent money through Kiva.org to a woman in Ghana who wanted to open a hair salon. On December 25th, Kiva.org notified me that the loan had been fully-repaid months ahead of schedule. I was shocked and thrilled by the news! Now I have the choice to withdraw the funds or lend them to another entrepreneur. Given my positive experience with Kiva, of course I will loan the funds again. I believe in the power of entrepreneurship to transform lives, and I want to support the desire for self-sufficiency among people around the world, a desire I share and deeply understand.

To further reflect these beliefs, I have also loaned money to Grameen America, a brand of Mohammad Yunus’s incredible organization. It cost me $10 and about 30 seconds of my time, and gave me the opportunity to make a difference in the life of another New Yorker. There are plenty of opportunities for social activism around the world, but we should not lose sight of the opportunities for social activism that lie just outside our own doors.

Philanthropy is not the only way to choose the how of our activism. We can give time, raise awareness about organization we admire, purchase goods and services from respectable companies, and use our own personal talents in direct ways. For the past two years, I have spent the bulk of my volunteer time on public education. I’ve taught high school and middle school students in Lower Manhattan and the South Bronx, and I am a book buddy to a local third grade student. On this blog and through my Examiner.com column, I have highlighted organizations whose work inspires me. I try to support local, organic farmers through my grocery shopping. The project I am most excited about in 2010 is my participation with Citizen Schools; I will pilot an after-school program in East Harlem to teach 6th graders about entrepreneurship, product development, and innovation. These accomplishments are not at all extraordinary; they’re just choices that reflect my core beliefs.

We have more influence over our world and on others than we realize. There are so many options that it can be difficult to know where to begin. We need only to pick a cause that lights a fire within us, get out there into the world, and let our voices be heard. Invariably, we will find other voices that echo our own.

art, books, inspiration, New York City, theatre, travel

My Year of Hopefulness – Chasing Down Inspiration

Christa Avampato

“You can’t wait for inspiration. You have to go after it with a club.” ~ Jack London, author

Before 2009, I used to think of inspiration a something that just hits us. I kept a folder of inspirational pictures, stories, quotes, and clippings that I trolled through when I needed some uplifting thoughts and none seemed to find me. I believed in writer’s block and the mystical muse of creativity who decided if, when, and how to show up in our lives. No more. After a year of actively seeking out hope and writing about it every day, I believe in the Jack London method, my inspiration-chasing club always at the ready.

In New York City, we’re lucky that chasing down inspiration means just putting on a pair of shoes and walking outside our doors. Inspiration is everywhere. We have a host of amazing museums that I visit frequently (thanks to my employer’s fantastic perk that gets us into almost every museum in New York for free!) Central Park and Riverside Park are two blocks away from my apartment. Broadway, off-Broadway, and off-off Broadway are burgeoning with some of the most inventive work to come along in decades. Bookstores are on nearly every corner, and there is no shortage of fascinating lectures, readings, and continuing ed classes in every subject, at every level. And if all else fails, just take a walk around the block, any block. You’re sure to find some characters.

In other cities, some much smaller than New York, inspiration abound as well. In Orlando, Florida, I found the largest collection of Tiffany glass in the world. In Charlottesville, Virginia, I had some of the best meals of my life. In my own hometown of Highland, New York, the view from the Catskill Mountains still takes my breathe away. In Providence, Rhode Island, I saw one of the finest productions of Moon for the Misbegotten that I’ve ever seen.

Inspiration is everywhere – all we need to do is get out into the world and look. We can travel thousands of miles from home, or we can hang around in our own backyard. What matters is the pursuit: do we want to be inspired and are we willing to “sift the sands of the desert to see what we can find,” as Clarissa Pinkola Estes says so eloquently in Women Who Run with the Wolves? If the answer is yes, then there are adventures upon adventures just waiting for us to hope on board. And if you can get your hands on a big club, that may help, too.
The image above is not my own. It can be found here.
calm, holiday, time

My Year of Hopefulness – Think of Today

Christa Avampato

“I never think of the future. It comes soon enough.” ~ Albert Einstein

December 26th, forever relegated to its place as ‘the day after Christmas’. A lot of people sleep in; many are on vacation; it begins the long, slow slide into the new year. A day of “lull”, and well-deserved after the shopping, eating, visiting frenzy induced by December 25th.

Given that Albert Einstein was one of the greatest visionaries to ever live, I’m not sure that his quote above is entirely truthful. He actually thought about the future quite a bit, particularly when it came to his work on General Relativity and the Manhattan Project. What I think he was doing was trying to remind us that if we focus too much on the future we lose sight of the opportunities right in front of us today.

It would be easy and quite understandable to let this week float on by as just the week between Christmas and New Year’s. It may even cause some of us to build up some nervousness about the impending new year, or we could just look at 2009 as a lame duck year, almost finished and therefore not worth any more effort. With some creativity, we can still get our much-needed rest and make this week a happy and productive one.

If I learned anything in 2009 it is that our days, all of them, are terrible things to waste. This week I’ll curl up on that comfy couch and reach for that magazine or book that’s been waiting for me. I can relax and spend time with my family and friends without feeling rushed. I can get my plans in order when it comes to my impending GRE. I’ll take time out for yoga every day as preparation for my yoga teacher training class that starts in February. Whoever said that productivity and relaxation had to be mutually exclusive activities?
books, childhood, Christmas, dreams, gratitude, Randy Pausch, writer, writing

My Year of Hopefulness – Thanks for Making My Childhood Dream Come True

Christa Avampato

Last year I wrote a few posts about Randy Pausch’s Last Lecture. I first watched him give the Last Lecture on YouTube through tear-filled eyes and had to take myself for a long walk 3 months later when I read about his passing. His Last Lecture, devoted entirely to his pursuit of childhood dreams, reminded me of how important our earliest dreams are and how they shape us in adulthood. Randy Pausch reconfirmed my belief that childhood dreams, those daring, bold expressions of our deepest desire before we ever realize we have limitations, are some of the most valuable things we own. We should celebrate them and go for them with gusto, no matter what our age is.

This morning, I watched Lorelei, my two year old niece, open her gifts with wild abandon. She threw her head back and laughed with each one, regardless of how big or small it was. She liked the wrapping paper and boxes as much as the gifts inside. Watching her, I wondered how she would remember our Christmases together when she gets older. I want to do everything possible to make her childhood a blissfully happy period of her life, a time when great dreams were formed inside her beautiful heart.

Children change us, whether those children are our own, in our family, part of our friends’ families, or children we work with in our communities. We rediscover a sense of wonder and magic through their eyes, and Christmas magnifies that wonder. They use that same wonder about the world to formulate the ideas that will become their childhood dreams, and if we spend enough time with them we’ll find that they can help us formulate new dreams, too, while also reminding us of everything we dreamed of as children.

When I made up my list of childhood dreams, one of the big things I wanted to do was to be a published author. I thought that meant convincing a publisher that I was good enough for print. I never imagined there would be free (on-line) tools that would make this dream possible to achieve regardless of whether or not any publisher believed in me. I did spend a good amount of time worrying that no one would ever read what I wrote. In the past two and a half years writing this blog, I realized this incredible childhood dream with your help and support, and I wish I knew how to thank you all enough.

This Christmas, I am deeply grateful to all of you who have come to this blog to read about my journey. Your comments, emails, text messages, conversations, and face-to-face opinions and advice mean more to me than I could ever adequately explain. You made one of the great dreams of my life come true – you made me a writer. I hope you’ll stick with me, and that my writing will continue to be helpful to you. I hope we’ll be able to build some more dreams together. Wishing you a very Merry Christmas, this year and always.
The image above is not my own. It can be found here.
Christmas, family, holiday, travel, writing

My Year of Hopefulness – Balancing Writing and Living in Alabama

Christa Avampato

Writing has a funny little dichotomy: it is a mostly solitary activity whose content is greatly influenced by social interaction. That balance between living life and writing about it can be a tricky one to manage, particularly if you write on a part-time basis while working at another full-time job. And yet, that balance is critical to creating a body of writing that is poignant and relevant. Without the social interaction piece, writing becomes flat and dull.

This week I’m in Florida with my sister, brother-in-law, and niece. They are packing up on Christmas afternoon to head to Alabama to see his family and I was planning to stay here at their home to study for the GRE and to write. Yesterday at lunch, we started talking about the possibility of me going to Alabama along with them. As it turns out, that ride will give me a lot of time to study and I’ll have my own toasty bedroom to write and learn GRE vocabulary words until my heart’s content.

At first, I immediately thought that there is just no way I can go to Alabama. I have a to-do list that needs doin’. And it’s so much time in the car, and I’m already traveling to Fort Lauderdale to celebrate the New Year with friends. I mean, I need my rest!

And then I thought, well, what exactly is it that I’m resting up for? Should I stay home alone with my GRE book and my computer, or would it be better to be with people I love and get all of my work done, too? With that thought, what other choice was there? Staying home alone just felt like a horribly empty option, especially at this time of year. All I could think of was an image of the Grinch high up in his home, alone for the holidays. Life was a lot sweeter when he came down off his mountain, and I bet his writing was better, too.

For me, the holidays are about family and friends and dashing here and there and loving it. My writing is about that, too. So my books, my laptop, and my family are hitting the road to Sweet Home Alabama in about 24 hours to see what we can find. If nothing else, it’s got to make for some interesting writing and fun holiday memories.
decision-making, Examiner, goals, New Years Eve

Examiner.com: 5 Tips to Help You Create and Achieve New Year’s Resolutions

Christa Avampato

So here it is: time to crank out a list of lofty resolutions that you know will never last past January 31st, right? Don’t do this to yourself. Please. You’ll feel like a failure, and that’s just not fair to do that to yourself. Examiner.com knows this, and they’ve asked all of their writers to share tips on how to make readers wildly successful with their New Year’s Resolutions in 2010.

I just posted 5 tips, followed by a personal story of my 2009 resolution, that I hope will be helpful to you as you begin to turn your attention toward a bright new year teeming with possibility. For the article, please click here.
The image above is not my own. It can be found here.
community, community service, film, Muppet

My Year of Hopefulness – We Could Learn a Lot from the Muppets

Christa Avampato

On Sunday night I watched A Very Merry Muppet Christmas on TV. Kermit and his pals realize their dream of having their own theatre only to have it threatened by a scheming landlord who wants to shut them down to open a posh new nightclub. Kermit blames himself for losing the fight to save the theatre, confiding to an angel that he wishes he was never born.

As the story unfolds, we see how the lives of his friends would have been different without Kermit. All of them, without question, would have achieved far less without Kermit as their friend. Through this lesson, the angel teaches Kermit that our actions and words have a greater impact on people than we realize – a good lesson for all of us. This lesson prodded me to think of all the ways in which we influence one another.

The encouragement that we offer to others, our belief in one another’s abilities to create change, and our own willingness to take a stand on issues of great importance all have deeper reaching impact than we know. With our words we can foster dreams, ours and those of others. Our simple belief that someone else can achieve a lofty goal can provide a much needed boost to someone who lacks personal confidence. If and how we work on issues such as healthcare, education, poverty, and the environment conveys who we are on a very deep and personal level.

Not only do our actions and words have impact, but our lack of action and the sentiments we do not convey have an impact as well. When a friend or colleague turns to us for help and support, do we stand with them or do we turn away? When someone tells us they don’t think they can achieve their dream, do we doubt them or do we encourage them? When something in our community, or in the world at-large, has gone haywire, do we accept the current situation as is or do we decide to change it?

Our answers to these questions also reveal our integrity of character. So often, we think life lessons have to come from books of philosophy or in the classrooms of the Ivy League. My experience yesterday watching the Muppets reminded me that inspiration exists all around us, in every conversation, in every TV viewing, and in everyday experiences. We would be wise and the world would be a better place if we could pay greater attention to the callings and reminders that show up at our door all the time. We never know what pearl of wisdom may fall from the lips of a lovable, unassuming frog.

The photo above is not my own. It can be found here.