“When you feel pain, question it. Why is it there and how can we heal it? The body wants to heal.” ~ Cheri Clampett
In the last few weeks, there has been an opening. A pain that’s been hidden, so deep for so long, refused to lay down any longer. It had to bubble up in me so that finally after far too long it could release. The pain asked to be looked at, considered, appreciated, and then, finally forgiven.
This reminded me of something Cheri Clampett said a few weeks ago in the therapeutic yoga teacher training at Integral Yoga Institute. Pain is our friend. It may not feel like it at first brush, but it is there to teach us. You can ignore it, medicate it, and try like heck to forget about it. It will not be dissuaded. Loyally, it will wait for you to be ready, to have the strength to meet it, sit with it, and understand it. That moment has finally arrived for me and my dad. We are ready to forgive, release, and move on.
I have known this pain a long time. In some odd and uncomfortable way, it has become a friend. It’s been my fallback and my excuse for certain circumstances in my life. “I can’t do this because my dad was like that.” And for a while that was true; it’s just not true anymore. I am healed. I am whole. And I can do anything, even if I my dad didn’t he could.
Yesterday, I wrote about my regret that I didn’t go say goodbye to my dad when he was dying. What I didn’t mention is that I was 16 at the time. I didn’t have the tools to look so much pain in the face and not crumble. I needed to grow up before that was possible, and at 16 I wasn’t grown up, not by a long shot, and I couldn’t possibly have been expected to be. It was my dad’s time to go but it wasn’t yet my time to let go. Sometimes life is like that. Sometimes our timing is just off, and in those moments we do the best we can with what we’ve got. We operate with imperfect information all the time.
In the post yesterday I spoke about yesterday lessons, the lessons that our past teaches us so that we can improve going forward. Another yesterday lesson that my father’s passing taught me had to do with forgiveness. That lesson appeared more slowly, over a very long period of time, and in fits and starts: if we’re truly sorry, then pure, true forgiveness will find us. The “I’m sorry” moment starts us down the road to healing of every kind. All we have to do is ask for it. Forgiveness is a life force in and of itself. It changes everything. And if we believe in learning, in growing, in constantly evolving, then we must believe in forgiveness, of others and even more importantly, of ourselves.
In Buddhism there is a belief that every moment provides the exact teaching we need exactly when we need it. There’s no way at 16 that I could have known how deeply it would affect me to not say goodbye to my father. And in some strange, cosmically-correct way, I think the moment came and went exactly as it was supposed to be. I know so deeply that every moment comes to pass this way, and because of this belief, I have to forgive my dad and I have to forgive myself. We were two people who were doing the best we could with what we had. And even though we didn’t get a chance to meet in the middle this time around, in our own ways, in our own now separate worlds, we are both finding our way to forgiveness – of ourselves and of one another.
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
“When you feel pain, question it. Why is it there and how can we heal it? The body wants to heal.” ~ Cheri Clampett
I love that you are so open the process…That truly is the ONLY way to heal and evolve. When I lost my Mom, I (at first) resisted the pain that sadness brings, but I remember telling myself “let yourself feel every drop of this”…I did and I still do…it has softened me, opened up my heart more. It’s an ongoing process, but isn’t that what life is? XO
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Hi Sonia,
It is true. There is a softening when we open up to feel our pain and loss. It fosters so much healing and authenticity. For a long time I was worried that I would feel weaker for expressing this grief. In actuality, I feel stronger than ever & am so grateful for this opportunity.
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Christa,
Thank You: you wear your heart on your sleeve: it is your strength.
That kind of vulnerability and innocence is hard to find these days.
I am moved by your story: your father plays a central role in it.
Just my humble opinion: I think the time is ripe for you to be kind to yourself. Don’t beat yourself up at what happened: after all, you were a kid. At 16, we don’t have the maturity to cope with such losses. It was not your fault; these things happen to the best of us.
Moreover, please remember that hindsight is always 20/20. Looking back, we feel we could have done things differently and we blame ourselves for not trying, but that’s not how it appeared to us when we were that age. We did not have the emotional maturity to cope.
So, your analysis is accurate: you had a lot of growing up to do. Now, you have begun to cope with that loss and you must give yourself credit on that score. You deserve that credit: a pat on the back, a round of applause. It takes so much time and courage to heal and to face the reality of life. It must have taken a weight off your young shoulders.
Namaste.
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Hi Archan,
I do feel such a huge weight lifted up and off of me. These writing about my dad have given me such a sense of freedom that I feel in so many areas of my life now.
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