A set of bookshelves was the last piece of furniture I needed to replace. I bought a perfect set of them about a year ago and lost them in the fire in September. I took myself to Crate and Barrel this afternoon and bought the exact same set I had in a darker stain to match my new bed. To make room for this new set, I needed to clean out a corner that’s been filled with boxes for 4 months. About half way through the cleaning, I started to cry. I was reminded of the last time I cleaned and made room for bookshelves, which then caused me to think about how they looked just after the fire. Covered in a film of dark gray soot, holding books that could never be cleaned and electronics that couldn’t be salvaged.
The delivery of these bookshelves is another reminder of starting over, and starting over begins by losing something we care about. I still haven’t been able to hang up any pictures; I’ve tried but when I do I start to tear up and put them down. Everything still seems so impermanent to me, and I still have some anxiety about wasting even a moment of time, which then leads me to question how I’m spending my time at all, causing me undue stress and worry.
I am immensely grateful that I made it out of the fire unscathed. I feel lucky to have insurance that took care of me financially. My friend, Cindy, gave me the legal know-how to negotiate with my former landlord. In a practical sense, the fire was a blip on the radar screen of my life. In reality, it changed everything. It changed me. The double-edged sword of getting another chance is that I can’t stop considering and re-considering and re-considering again what would be the best use of my time. It’s enough to drive anyone mad.
So what can I do? How do I keep from going mad? I just keep going. This afternoon I sat for a minute in my own tears after clearing space for these new bookshelves. And then I just grabbed a tissue, grabbed my Swiffer, and pushed it around the floor to pick up the dust and lint where my boxes have been piled up for 4 months. In the middle of the dust I found a tiny pink metal object. It was my niece, Lorelei’s, hairclip. She must have dropped it when she was here visiting in October. I smiled as I spun it in my fingers.
That hairclip reminded me that no matter what I do with the remainder of my life, the best part is that I get to be with my family and my friends. I get to keep writing and working with my community. I get to evolve and grow and try new things that I never would have had a chance to try had I not gotten out of the fire. I’ll get to fall in love again. And that’s the upside of gratitude and starting over – even though I lost so much, I realize I have a lot of reasons to begin again.
Published by Christa Avampato
The short of it:
Writer. Health, education, and art advocate. Theater and film producer. Visual artist. Product geek. Proud alumnae of the University of Pennsylvania (BA) and the Darden School of Business at the University of Virginia (MBA). Inspired by ancient wisdom & modern tech. Proliferator of goodness. Opener of doors. Friend to animals. Fan of creative work in all its wondrous forms. I use my business skills to create passion projects that build a better world. I’ve been called the happiest New Yorker, and I try hard to live up to that title every day.
The long of it:
My career has stretched across Capitol Hill, Broadway theatre, education, nonprofit fundraising, health and wellness, and Fortune 500 companies in retail, media, entertainment, technology, and financial services. I’ve been a product developer and product manager, theater manager, strategic consultant, marketer, voice over artist, , teacher, and fundraiser. I use my business and storytelling to support and sustain passion projects that build a better world. In every experience, I’ve used my sense of and respect for elegant design to develop meaningful products, services, programs, and events.
While building a business career, I also built a strong portfolio as a journalist, novelist, freelance writer, interviewer, presenter, and public speaker. My writing has appeared in The Washington Post, The Huffington Post, PBS.org, Boston.com, Royal Media Partners publications, and The Motley Fool on a wide range of topics including business, technology, science, health, education, culture, and lifestyle. I have also been an invited speaker at SXSW, Teach for America, Avon headquarters, Games for Change, NYU, Columbia University, Hunter College, and the Alzheimer’s Foundation of America. The first book in my young adult book series, Emerson Page and Where the Light Enters, was acquired by a publisher and launched in November 2017. I’m currently working on the second book in the series.
A recovering multi-tasker, I’m equally at home in front of my Mac, on my yoga mat, walking my rescue dog, Phineas, traveling with a purpose, or practicing the high-art of people watching. I also cut up small bits of paper and put them back together as a collage artist.
My company:
I’m bringing together all of my business and creative career paths as the Founder of Double or Nothing Media:
• I craft products, programs, and projects that make a difference;
• I build the business plans that make what I craft financially sustainable;
• I tell the stories that matter about the people, places, and products that inspire me.
Follow my adventures on Twitter at https://twitter.com/christanyc and Instagram at https://instagram.com/christarosenyc.
View all posts by Christa Avampato
A set of bookshelves was the last piece of furniture I needed to replace. I bought a perfect set of them about a year ago and lost them in the fire in September. I took myself to Crate and Barrel this afternoon and bought the exact same set I had in a darker stain to match my new bed. To make room for this new set, I needed to clean out a corner that’s been filled with boxes for 4 months. About half way through the cleaning, I started to cry. I was reminded of the last time I cleaned and made room for bookshelves, which then caused me to think about how they looked just after the fire. Covered in a film of dark gray soot, holding books that could never be cleaned and electronics that couldn’t be salvaged.
Christa Avampato 
Nice one, Nan!
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Thanks, Weez. I’ll bring the pink hair clip with me on the next visit. 🙂 Give LL a hug for me!
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(((((Christa))))) <— Love Hug & Healing Vibs.
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Thanks, Trish! I feel those vibes coming through.
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