Month: September 2011

books, business, goals

Beginning: Who Do You Serve?

Christa Avampato

“Who cares most if we succeed or fail?” ~ Jason Saul, author of The End of Fundraising: Raise More Money By Selling Your Impact, on how to build a stakeholder map

My friend and Compass Board Member, Lon, suggested that I read Jason Saul’s book as we begin to put together the financial plan for Compass. I’m actually going to work through the book with the Board because our main financial goal is to be a fully self-sustaining organization – exactly what Jason Saul advocates in his book. We want fundraising to be the gravy of our financial plan, not the main course. Jason Saul gives us a way to do that, and his book is a solid resource for anyone starting or running a business, nonprofit or for-profit.

The biggest take-away from the book is something I often heard in business school and the greatest I have learned from yoga – focus is everything. We cannot be all things to all people. If we try to do that, we end up being of very little value to anyone. Does that mean that what we offer is only useful to a handful of select people? Absolutely not. It may well be that everyone who comes into contact with your products and services takes away something positive. The question at hand is one of focus – yours. Where do you put your time and energy, both precious and finite resources? And to answer that question you need to figure out who you serve and why you matter to those customers.

Compass Yoga‘s ideal students are the once who aren’t going to walk into a traditional yoga studio. They’ve never tried yoga or meditation before though they’re curious and want to give it a shot because they want to be happier, healthier, and more at ease in their daily lives. And they have some specific therapeutic reason for seeking out yoga.

Could a long-time practitioner who is happy, healthy, and at ease get something out of a Compass class? Of course. Would I turn these people away from a class? Absolutely not – they will always be welcome. I remain steadfast in my belief that yoga is for every body. I’m just not the right teacher for every body and every student is not right for me. I love people who have the courage to begin from zero; I love to be a guide. My energy is focused on those beginners, and if others get something out of the teaching, then all the better.

The question “Who do you serve?” is fundamentally about finding our place in a crowded field; it’s about defining a way to shine with our gifts in one hand and our passion in the other. It’s about finding our authentic purpose and the people who will benefit most from us fulfilling our destiny. I have tremendous empathy for beginners and for people who are challenged with health issues, be they mental or physical. I was one of them and I will never forget how that felt. I will also never forget how useful yoga and meditation were to me in times of real trouble, and how much comfort they continue to provide on a daily basis. By serving those beginners who are challenged with health issues, I’m paying forward the gifts my teachers (and there were many!) provided to me.

It’s a nice idea to be inclusive and giving to anyone who wants to learn the lessons we have to offer. I recommend it as a way of life; I don’t recommend it when developing a business plan. Figure out exactly who you serve and why you’re the best person to provide that service to those customers. In business, focus is rewarded. Go too broad and you are setting yourself up for irrelevance.

meditation

Beginning: Your Own Enlightenment is Only a Question Away

Christa Avampato
Master Jinje

“Everyone can start a meditation practice by pondering this question every day – what was your original face before your parents gave birth to you?” ~Master Jinje

Last week I went to the historic Riverside Church to hear Seon (Zen) Master Jinje, the 79th Patriarch in the Korean lineage of the Buddha. My friend, John and Justin – the genius duo behind FreshFluff, invited me to the event and given my interest in and dedication to daily meditation, I couldn’t pass it up. To be in the presence of someone like Master Jinje, someone so disciplined and so full of goodness, is an honor. Secluded in Korea, this was his first visit to the U.S. and given the reception he received I’m sure he’ll return. Our society needs his message: meditation is a vital part of a rich and meaningful life and it is available to everyone. It begins by questioning everything. 

Master Jinje took questions from the audience and one member asked how someone who has never mediated before can begin a practice. It’s a common question. The word “meditation” is a loaded term. Many people feel they need to have a religious practice or that they must already have some level of enlightenment in order to meditate.

Master Jinje put that concern to rest. He insisted that meditation is for everyone, and that it should be practiced by everyone. We need to time to sit and tune in to our own inner wisdom, and yes, there is an inner wisdom in every person. You, me, and everyone we come across throughout our daily activities. All you need to do is think about who you are authentically – not in terms of your relationships or your work or where you live. Consider the challenge of considering one simple question – “What was your original face before your parents gave birth to you?” All of a sudden everything you know is shattered. All your preconceived notions of an identity are gone. Now the real work begins. Who are you on a soul level?

For me, this question is scary and exciting, and therefore it warrants some more consideration. There must be something in there for me, and so I sit every day now and think about this question. It becomes an all-consuming question and practice; my troubles fall away as my mind turns this idea over and over again. And that is its magic. All of a sudden I am a part of something much bigger, braver, and wiser just by asking this question and not shrinking away from its answers.

Enlightenment is not so far away; it’s not some mysterious, out-of-reach goal. It’s with us right now. Within you, there exists an enlightened sensibility and it wants its fair share of air time. It doesn’t need a microphone; on the contrary, all it’s asking for is a few moments of quiet time with you and you alone. It has all the answers you seek, and those answers will be revealed one tiny jewel at a time every time you show up to sit and be still and consider who you are at your very essence. Listening will be rewarded. 

dogs, love

Beginning: Happy 2nd Birthday to My Pup, Phineas

Christa Avampato
The birthday boy lounging on a lazy weekend morning

Today is Phineas’s designated 2nd birthday (he was roughly a year when I got him) and our anniversary. As this day approached, it was hard to believe that a year has gone by since I adopted Phineas from the Humane Society and then I reflected on all that’s happened in the past year. Last Fall, I spent a lot of time getting him used to my schedule and his new city neighborhood; he was found abandoned in the woods so city sights and sounds were all new for him. We wrestled through separation anxiety; Click here for that collection of posts and the remedies we came up with thanks to our incredible trainer and friend, Gregg. And I got used to rejiggering my schedule and budget to take care of my new furry pal.

I thought about developing some variation of a top 10 list of the things Phin has taught me this year though that idea seemed overdone and truly there is just one huge lesson that Phineas has taught me that makes all of the countless others pale in comparison – Love Heals.

I’ve often heard it said that time heals all wounds, but I actually think love is a more complete and efficient healer than time. Time is a finite gift; the amount of love we can take in and give away is infinite. The only limit love knows is our desire to give and receive. Phineas can never get enough and can never give enough. He’s a wonderful role model of courage and bravery, for believing that life can always get better no matter how far down in the doldrums we are. Love is what helps us make that journey.

A year ago, he was starving and lonely, abandoned in the woods. Today, he sleeps in a warm, down-filled bed in a (cozy) penthouse apartment on the upper west side of Manhattan, has a bottomless bowl of organic food, and laps up buckets of overflowing love that are showered on him every day. He let go of his past and moved on so that he could appreciate all the love available to him in his new life.

We should all be as appreciative as he is of the gift of another day. And we can be. All we have to do is give love, receive love, and revel in the exchange. Happy birthday, Phin!

story

Beginning: Your Story Can Be Sung

Christa Avampato

“Not only is your story worth telling, but it can be told in words so painstakingly eloquent that it becomes a song.” ~ Gloria Naylor

In recent weeks, I’ve been telling the story of Compass Yoga to new audiences who are just beginning to hear about it – partner organizations, potential business partners, and yoga students and teachers. Eventually each conversation leads to asking what sparked the idea. I tell them my own personal story and my family’s story of grappling with mental and physical illness and the powerful role that yoga and meditation have played in helping me to feel well and whole. I talk about paying the gift forward and the joy of being able to do so. It really has become a song of sorts that stays with people.

I think that’s what happens when your story is filled with a lot of heart – it develops its own independent rhythm. Somehow it crafts its own life in its own right. People can identify with it, connect to it, and fit themselves into it in some way. Seeing stories just as they begin to weave together is a beautiful act to witness. It makes me teary-eyed with anticipation at the amazing story that’s about to be wrought by joining forces. Our story, to fully come alive, needs the story of others, just like food needs seasoning and melody needs harmony. We are stronger together.

career, change, choices, decision-making

Beginning: The Grass is Greener Where You Water It

Christa Avampato

“The grass isn’t greener on the other side. It’s greener where you water it.” ~ my pal, Sharni

Earlier this week I wrote about my decision to turn down a recent job offer in favor of staying at my current company and pursing my own entrepreneurial projects through Compass Yoga and my writing. I have been surprised by how invigorated I feel from the decision. There is something to be said for having a look around at the career landscape, being given the opportunity to move, and then realizing that I have it pretty good exactly where I am. My current company, while it has its flaws, offers me tremendous flexibility and the opportunity to work with a lot of people whom I truly like and respect. The process of considering another offer gave me fresh eyes to see my current situation’s benefits to my life.

Just before receiving this new offer, friends of mine cautioned me about leaving. I initially wrote off the caution as their own hang-up about change. However, their advice planted a seed of balanced decision making. I really did need to weigh what I was giving up at my current company and what I could potentially receive in return at the new company. Ultimately it came down to realizing that I was going to have to give up a lot (flexibility, relationships and a reputation that I have worked hard for, and a solid compensation package), and I wasn’t going to get enough in return (lower title and compensation than I had expected, and a real loss of my personal time). Once that became clear to me, I knew the new offer wasn’t the right fit for me.

I was away on a business trip when I received the new offer and on the flight to my destination I saw the movie Midnight in Paris. The movie follows the lead character who is obsessed with 1920s Paris and The Lost Generation. He has the opportunity to live in that era of history, and in the process realizes that the people of that period longed for the Belle Époque, Paris in the 1890s. While he realizes his life in 2010 needs some changes, he recognizes that we’re always longing for another time. Too often we think the grass is greener elsewhere when in fact we almost always have the opportunity to make the grass we already have greener through our own efforts.

My friend, Sharni, has been blogging about this very point-of-view and her tag line “the grass is greener where you water it” perfectly sums up my recent career decision. My cautious friends were absolutely right – I have a lot more opportunity right at my fingertips than I realized. I bet you do to!

change, season, weather

Beginning: Greetings, Fall. I’ve Been Looking for You!

Christa Avampato
Fall images like these are the ones I live for

I’m searching for a place that offers perpetual Fall. The nights grow a little longer, the air gets a little chillier, and I come alive. The heat and humidity of summer are behind us in the Big Apple, and I couldn’t be happier. Sweaters and boots, pumpkin in everything, apple picking, the start of school, and those glorious colored leaves are on the way, and not a moment too soon. I need the energy and transition to Fall to give me a boost!

Despite the brilliant colors of the leaves that are actually triggered by their end of life, Fall is a time of rebirth and renewal for me. It lifts my heart and gaze up and out. Fall is always filled with new beginnings and so I look forward to its arrival like a kid longs for Christmas. Everywhere feels more homey and comfy in the Fall. I lap it up.

Nature, that brilliant being, is so wise. Fall has arrived just in time, as it always does. I’m closing out this year of living and writing about new beginnings with a to-do list filled not with tasks, but new adventures. You’ll be hearing all about them in the coming weeks. Here we go!

books, dreams, food

Beginning: The Power of Food

Christa Avampato
A recent meal of whole foods I made in my tiny kitchen. From my photoblog: http://bornintocolor.wordpress.com

In recent weeks I have become mildly obsessed with cooking in my tiny stand-up kitchen more often. It started with the first board meeting of Compass Yoga. Two of the incredible board members, Amy and Rob, came to my house for dinner while the other two superstars, Lon and Michael, joined by phone. For Amy and Rob, I cooked up a superfood meal and they were so delighted with it that it gave me a warm, happy glow. Despite my tiny digs, I realized how much happiness could emanate from it when the food is made with love and honor.

This happy experience led me to start watching loads of documentaries about growing food via streaming Netflix. Some dogmatic and pejorative, others hopeful and empowering. It’s no wonder that I gravitated to the later and the best among that lot was a film titled simply Ingredients. It features titans of food like Alice Waters, one of my modern-day heroes, talking about how critical good food is to the preservation of our health and wellbeing. Though the concept is so simple, we are so addicted to “big, manufactured food” that it is literally killing us with unprecedented levels of disease and stress (both mental and physical.) A good deal of the film is set in and around Portland, Oregon and talks about the critical issue of preserving land use for farming, particularly as it relates to local, organic ingredients.

Local organic is nirvana for me. I grew up in a tiny farming town on an apple orchard. For most of childhood, the orchard was not active though I have a small set of memories from when I was very young about people coming to our orchards to pick apples. I remember climbing trees and exploring the land with my brother and sister and our dogs. It wasn’t lavish and it was never particularly well-groomed. But to me, it was always beautiful. Even today, there is a tractor-crossing sign across our drive way. Many of the people in the town farmed in some capacity, even if that just meant their own summer gardens. I remember walking out our front door to find baskets of fresh food dropped off by one of our family farmer friends. Local and organic was all we knew growing up – so much so that I didn’t have any concept of a vegetable or fruit existing in any other state. I had no idea how lucky I was in that regard.

On the plane back from a business trip to Phoenix, I found an excerpt from a forthcoming book, An Everlasting Meal, in the airline magazine. Immediately, I fell in love with the prose and it further heightened by resolve to eat whole foods, prepared well. This is what author, Tamar Adler, coins as “honest food”. Tamar is a self-made chef and a cook at Chez Panisse, Alice Waters’ restaurant. (Alice wrote the foreword for An Everlasting Meal.) An Everlasting Meal will be published in October, and I have already added it to my “ship when ready” list on Amazon for a simple reason: Tamar isn’t giving us a food book in the traditional sense, filled with recipes and tricks of the trade; she gives us a gorgeously woven narrative about the art of practical cooking and how it is an allegory for a life well-lived. Her prose is stunning in its simplicity and truth.

All this thinking of food has brought an image to mind that has surprised even me: there I am in amply spaced and sunlit kitchen, cutely aproned, Phineas lying at my feet sniffing the scents of a home-cooked meal. The sun’s coming from a window looking out on a garden that appears larger than my current studio apartment. I hear a man call me from the other room but I can’t quite make out what he’s saying, perhaps because I’m so entranced by a simple pot boiling and the joy of letting its steam rise up over my face as the scent of its delicious contents fills my nose. This is certainly not New York; I’m not sure exactly where it is, but I mean to find it.

And that’s perhaps the most magical thing of all about food – its preparation and the happiness it invokes opens up our imaginations to follow dreams we have yet to know.

career, choices, decision-making

Beginning: Let Priorities Shape Reality

Christa Avampato

“He who has a why to live for can bear almost any how.” ~ Nietzche

With my recent career decision, I had to get my priorities back in order. I used to think of priority setting as a one-and-done action. It’s actually a daily process, a constant tinkering based on new bits of information and insights.

To make my latest career decision, I relied on an old technique that has worked for me in the past: I write my priorities down on paper and post them just above the doorknob of my front door.

 

Here’s the latest list:

  1. Developing Compass Yoga
  2. Teaching – yoga and business
  3. Writing – the daily posts on this blog as well as several other writing projects currently underway
  4. Freedom – in terms of finances, time, and geography

These priorities give me broad context for how to cultivate and slot in opportunities. If an opportunity doesn’t support one of these priorities, then I can pass it on. These priorities are lenses and funnels, a deceptively simple decision tree of sorts. In Nietzche’s words, they are the “whys”. Now, I have a way to evaluate the “hows”.

career, decision-making, job

Beginning: Why I Chose to Not Leave My Job

Christa Avampato

“Man is without a doubt the most interesting fool there is.” ~ Mark Twain

A few weeks ago, I wrote about my conversation with Brian that involved the futility of living on a ledge. At the time, I thought the name of that ledge was the job that I currently have that pays my bills and makes the financing of all of my personal projects possible. That job had grown stale and boring to me. I felt like time was slipping away from me in a wasteful way and so I decided to look around, up and away from my current job and on to new pastures.

As it turned out, I was on a very different ledge. I was offered the opportunity to move on to a new company. I was all set to take it though the offer was not exactly what I had expected. The title of the job had changed, as had the compensation, and there was a sticky direct report situation to deal with that was created by potential future boss. I was asked to share the burden of cleaning up the mess left behind. I didn’t know what to do, so I paused and consulted. I am blessed with an incredible inner circle of loyal, honest, and exceedingly brilliant friends. I contacted a number of them with my conundrum.

The advice was split down the middle: some felt I should absolutely jump to the new role; others had a truly visceral action to my potential departure for this possibly greener pasture that wasn’t of my design. My friend, Susan, a career and personal branding guru, was an exceptionally shining voice. (Her book The Right Job, Right Now: The Complete Toolkit for Finding Your Perfect Career is literally my career bible.) She did something more than offer yes / no advice. She gave me a way to think about opportunities. She asked me to look at the job I wanted, not the options in front of me, and use that as my yardstick. Put another way, what mattered most was the life I imagined and wanted to live, not the opportunities created by others. I was looking in the wrong direction – outward instead of inward. The focus needs to be on the road I want to pave, not on the road that is laid out before me.

My friend, Lon, offered up sage advice as well. He’s had 34 years of Fortune 50 company experience. He has seen it all and then some. He cautioned against the sale pitch of the new job and asked me to truly see what was being masked. While I believe the new company had every wish of keeping my best intentions in mind, they are truthfully in a bind. They need me more than I need them, and I was not getting enough in return for my efforts.

The new job promised a review to change my title and salary in 6 months. Lon reminded me that promises are empty until fulfilled, no matter how earnestly they are initially crafted. People are fickle; they change their minds so all we can truly know are their current words and actions. Now is certain; later is all guesswork, no matter how educated those guesses may be. Lon helped me to see that the ledge I had really been on the well-paved and traveled road built by someone else. The courageous jump I’ve been looking for starts by using the fuel I have in my current job to get me to a new place of my own making.

I received loads of other phenomenal advice from friends and colleagues and I plan to reveal the nuggets of wisdom from each one, paying tribute to each friend, in my posts this week and next. They will be as helpful to you as they were to me. I call out Lon and Susan in this post because their advice hangs together so well, and reminded me so much of advice (and foreshadowing!) that I received 4 years ago from my then-boss and forever-mentor, Bob G. I’ve detailed it before in other posts, but it bears repeating: the difference of my generation to earlier generations is that we will bet on ourselves, not companies, to make our careers.

I didn’t believe Bob at the time. I had never thought of myself as an entrepreneur; I didn’t yet know that I wanted to be at the helm. I thought I needed others to design the structure of my career. I didn’t yet know my ability and desire to craft and design; Bob did and it is his advice, like Susan’s and Lon’s, that I will never forget and always be grateful for.

change, feelings, Life, loss, memory

Beginning: Another Meaning on 9/11

Christa Avampato
This is an image of all the beautiful faces lost on 9/11/01

Today I will be glued to coverage of the 9/11 commemoration. My first memory of seeing the wreckage is still burned in my mind. I was in a Chicago apartment, surrounded by friends, and mourning for my home city. My current office building sits right across the street from the World Trade site. I pass it every single day that I go to the office. It is visible from nearly every conference room where I have daily meetings. I consciously think about that tragedy and its wake all the time.

2 years ago, 9/11 etched another mark into my history of my time in New York. After my apartment building fire, in which I lost so many of my physical belongings and gained a level of insight into the magic of life beyond anything I thought possible, I moved into the tiny studio where Phin and I still live. I slept on a borrowed air mattress and had a tiny plastic bag of clothes. It was a sinking, lonely feeling. “Is this what life tangibly amounted to?” I wondered.

In the coming months and years, I would embark on a personal journey with twists and turns, peaks and valleys, tears and smiles. I would question everything and everyone that filled my life up to that point. I would break down in terrifying ways, physically and mentally, and then build myself up again sometimes for show and sometimes through true, authentic growth, though it was hard to tell the difference. I would have to tear down my conception of myself and the world before the fire so that I could rebuild my spirit post-fire from the inside out. It was gut-wrenching, beautiful work. And yes, those two descriptors can be felt in a single action. Eventually it became a good kind of hurt, the way a physical wound heals, the way my muscles rebuilt themselves after I ran the Chicago marathon in October 2001, almost a month to the day after the horrific events of 9/11/01.

Rebuilding over a space that is mentally, emotionally, or physically ripped apart is part of life. No matter how terrifying the act that caused the destruction, no matter the breadth and depth of the loss created, time goes on, and life right along with it. Anniversaries give us a way to honor our strength and bravery in that moment of loss, and also in the rebuilding it necessitates. We mourn and grieve, and then keep going. And there is no shame or embarrassment in that act of moving forward. It is required; who and what was lost would also want it that way.

Today on 9/11/11, I’ll be on my couch with Phineas. I’ll be reflecting and writing, listening and watching, as this day, 10 years later unfolds in a very different way than it did for our nation and the world a decade ago. My only goal is to bear witness, and feel whatever feelings arise, to be aware and awake, and feel grateful for the opportunity to do so.