Month: September 2011

career, choices, school, student

Beginning: The Process and Product of a Career

Christa Avampato

A friend of mine recently asked me for some advice on how to get into the kind of work I do. I’m currently a product developer in the mobile space, and my first question to her was, “Why do you want to do this kind of work?” She was a little surprised though my interest in the answer was very genuine. She talked about how much she loves technology and how much it does for us to help keep us connected. That’s the end product, and I wanted to know what work, day-to-day, she really enjoyed doing.

The wow of an end-product and the work that goes into making that product are two very different things. I think losing sight of this idea leads many people to jobs they end up disliking. (Though the stats vary widely from study to study, it’s estimated that between 60% and 80% of Americans dislike their jobs.) This is completely understandable – it’s a fine nuance to get our heads around. I started out at Penn as an undergraduate in the engineering school. I loved science and math all through school, and so I thought engineering would blend the two nicely. Plus, I loved the end products of engineering.

I was quickly very unhappy in my classes. I hated the actual work of engineering. What I found I loved was understanding the engineers themselves. How could they possibly sit by themselves in labs for so many long hours. Didn’t they want to talk to anyone? I was fascinated by their focus.

It took me a long time to learn what careers were really for me – those that involve understanding the human mind and the choices we make. I love people and knowing what makes them tick. I want to know why when confronted with choices A, B, and C, they go for C under one set of circumstances and B under another set of circumstances, or even more interestingly, why they sometimes make no choice at all. And then I like to see how those choices impact their lives and the lives of those around them. (After I realized this interest of mine, I became a double major in Economics and History with a minor in Psychology. These are areas of study that all pivot around the psychology of choice, my favorite subject.)

So if you’re looking to start a new career, or you’re trying to understand how on Earth you got yourself into a career that really isn’t for you, my advice is to focus on process. Don’t be so concerned with what you’re creating; consider the act of creation that’s most exciting for you. Don’t let what you’ll be overshadow what you’ll actually do. A career is an action more than it is a title.

career, experience

Beginning: Putting the Pieces of a Career Together

Christa Avampato

If you look at my resume, you’ll see a wide variety of experiences. I’ve worked in 6 industries, companies both big and small, and become a purveyor of so many hats that it’s hard for anyone to put me into a traditional box. This is all by my own design. There are lots of interesting pieces in there, and a person recently asked me how all of this hangs together. (I think he really wanted to ask me what I’m up to!)

I actually do have a box, and it’s one I lovingly crafted myself that proudly carries the sign “puzzle solver”. I love puzzles of all kinds, literal and figurative. I like figuring out how all of the pieces fit to form the cohesive whole. I love the details as much as I love the big picture. I love science and art with equal fervor; sometimes I like to work independently and sometimes I like to work with others. Who, What, When, Where, Why, and How are close friends of mine. I use them in my every day conversations as much as possible. For me, pursuit and discovery equal joy.

Companies are made up of lots of little parts and because I like to be an orchestrator, I need to have an intimate understanding of those little parts. So I took different jobs in different industries to learn different skills and meet different kinds of people. This is why relationship-based jobs are so much fun to me; they give me the chance to figure out what makes people tick and that “thing” is different for everyone. I like to know what gets people jazzed and figure out how to give them more of it. People are endlessly fascinating and confounding to me because they are always changing. It’s impossible to be bored with studying them. Each one is so unique.

And I think that may just be the key to building a lifetime career you love – go try all different sorts of things. Don’t be so concerned about how it all fits together in the moment. I didn’t know this love of puzzles would begin to coalesce for me; I just hopped on opportunities that gave me a chance to learn something new. And with every experience, I took what I learned and applied it forward. All you really need is a sense of curiosity, and the insight will take care of itself.

choices, decision-making, relationships

Beginning: What We Have, Hold, and Share

Christa Avampato

I recently had a conversation with a mentor who wanted to give me some food for thought. As someone who often wears my heart on my sleeve and my feelings on my face, she told me about some advice that her mother gave her a long time ago: “No one ever said you had to show all 52 cards.” This stunned me.

For the past couple of years I’ve been doing a lot of work on getting to my true nature and at every turn letting my authenticity have the reigns. In this time, I’d never realized that I could still be authentic and not give away the farm. Subconsciously, I’d equated the two.

Putting on my writer’s hat, this idea makes a lot of sense. It would be possible in one paragraph to tell a reader the entire plot of a book though if we gave away the ending up front, the reader would miss all of those wonderful nuggets that are embedded in the middle of the story. They’d know the final destination, but they wouldn’t have the benefit of the lessons learned along the way.

Similarly, if someone sat us down the moment we were born and said, “Look kid, this is how it’s going to play out for you,” we’d miss out on the act of living and all of the guess-work and experimentation that it involves. When we meet a new person, part of the fun of getting to know him is learning about his life one story, one moment, at a time. The mystery is fun.

There is so much joy in not knowing, wondering, hypothesizing, guessing, rethinking, and tinkering. If we just throw everything out on the table all at once, we lose the power of context, surprise, and delight. When you’re starting new, it’s worthwhile to consider letting your authenticity seep out a bit a time. Let that new fact about you, your history, and your abilities be fully appreciated morsel by morsel. A bit of suspense and intrigue has made many a work of art all the more interesting to experience. And remember, you’re a work of art, too.

art, time

Beginning: Thomas Cole’s The Voyage of Life

Christa Avampato

On a recent trip to D.C. to see some friends, I popped into the National Gallery expressly to see Thomas Cole’s The Voyage of Life. It’s a series of four modest size painting that depict: Childhood, Youth, Manhood, and Old Age. I wanted to spend some time studying them to see if I could draw some kind of parallel to my life.

In Childhood, the world of course is shiny and new. Everything golden and light. Pristine and full of promise. (upper left)

In Youth, the hero is reaching for his castle in the sky, full of ambition and hope. (upper right)

In Manhood, something has gone terribly wrong and our hero finds himself in a rocky, stormy sea, praying for help and seeing none in sight. (lower left)

In Old Age, he is being welcomed home to the light that has seemingly always been just above the clouds of his adult life. He is surprised and delighted by this revelation. (lower right)

I spent almost an hour going from one painting to the other. I began to look for differences in the hero. Why did he get so lost in Manhood? Why did it take him so long to appreciate the light, and by extension I began to think about how I could avoid that same path. How do I make sure to keep the promise of childhood and youth, gain the experience of adulthood, and awaken long before old age?

Now look a little more closely at the hero. In the first three paintings he’s turned away from the angel. Only when he’s gone down to the depths of despair and reached old age does he look in the direction of the light that has always been with him. I found myself looking at the Manhood painting and wanting to shout, “Turn around! The help you want is right there!” And instead, our hero proceeds toward the rocks and falls with his boat rather than climbing ashore and reaching up. I’ve known people like this; I’m guessing you do to.

I went to my meditation cushion and had a long, deep think about this conundrum: how do we live up to the responsibilities of adulthood and still awaken to what really matters in the middle of the hustle and bustle? I want to live more of my life in the light. I asked for help and assistance, for strength and courage, for a 360-degree view that isn’t blocked by a handmade set of blinders.

Isn’t it amazing what art and our reflection on it can teach us? If Thomas Cole were still around I’d give him a great big hug. In The Voyage of Life he’s asking us to take a look around, all the way around. We’ve got this terrible idea in our minds that once we’re on a path, the destination is certain. He’s telling us to look up and out. Help isn’t off in some unattainable world; the help and hope we seek is right here with us all the time.

time

Beginning: Life As a Great Balancing Act

Christa Avampato
From http://macallallen.blogspot.com

“So be sure when you step, Step with care and great tact. And remember that life’s A Great Balancing Act.” — Dr. Seuss, Oh, the Places You’ll Go!

One recent weekend I found all of my plans fell through. As usual my schedule had been packed and slowly but surely the plans trickled away until I was left with a completely free weekend. My first inclination was to fill up the time with a whole new set of plans, and then I paused. I couldn’t remember the last time I had a completely free weekend. What an interesting this to try, and it was glorious! I would have loved to follow through on my plans but this turn of events gave me a chance to re-charge.

Enjoying our down time is an important ingredient to for making the most of our productive periods. It gives us a chance to reflect and realign. All of nature takes this time for revitalization. We’re the only beings who consider down time a waste, myself very much included.

That weekend, I basked in the idea that I had nowhere to be at any time. My day could be shaped moment to moment, and not by Google calendar (which does a stupendous job of keeping me organized during hectic times.) “The busy season is on its way,” I reminded myself. “This is your chance to just be, and not do.”

This is balance: to take both the slow times and busy times in stride, grateful for what each set of circumstances has to teach us.

choices, decision-making, fear, Life

Beginning: Somewhere Between Fear and Boredom

Christa Avampato

On Friday I was having a conversation with someone about his varied career practicing law. Though he’s been a lawyer for several decades, his bath is rather unorthodox as he’d practiced in a number of different specialties and now serves as the vice chairman of a large firm. As someone who has had a varied career, I’m always interested in hearing what makes people change course and what has served as their catalyst for change. This lawyer had a very simple answer:

“I chart my career. On the vertical access I’ve got fear and on the horizontal access I’ve got boredom. Every time I started in a new field I’d be all the way in the top left – high fear, no boredom. Over time, I move down the curve of fear and closer to boredom. Once those two cross, I know it’s time to do something else.”

That way of thinking resonates with me, too. I actually enjoy biting off more than I can chew; I get a rush from the doubt of wondering if I can really do what I’ve set out to do. It gives me drive and stokes my determination. It took a long time to get there.

When I worked in company management on Broadway shows and national tours, I had the great privilege of working with Petula Clark on Sunset Boulevard. I always got her meal so she could eat in her dressing room between the two shows on Saturday and Sunday. Sometimes she’d feel chatty so I’d stay and keep her company during dinner. She once asked me if I ever acted. I’d done some college productions and some work in summer stock, though never wanted to pursue the field professionally.

“Why not?” she asked me.

“I have terrible stage fright. I throw up every time before I go on stage,” I said, more than a little embarrassed.

“We’re all a little stage fright, dear,” she said. “The good ones never lose that fear. Keeps us on our toes.”

I liked that idea. I still didn’t want to be an actress and I wasn’t quite sure I believed Petula. She was famously supportive and kind, particularly to young people in the company. I thought she was just saying that to make me feel better. Years later I realized she was absolutely serious. I learned to use my stage fright productively – to help me stay prepared and on point at every turn.

If Petula Clark and this attorney had a conversation about career, I have a feeling they’d see eye-to-eye. The fear we have in starting a new adventure is really quite a gift. It gives us the chance to really feel alive, to feel like we’re taking on something so much bigger than ourselves. We’re going out along our edge to see just how far we can reach. It’s always thrilling to find that the ground out there at the edge is so much more stable that we imagine it to be, and not by happenstance, but because our determination and hard work makes it so.

dogs, Life, time, to-do lists, work, writing, yoga

Beginning: How I Find the Time

Christa Avampato

“You have to live your life spherically, in many directions.” ~ Frances Mayes, Under the Tuscan Sun

A lot of people ask me how I can live such a varied life with so many interests that don’t necessarily fit together in a logical way. I like being a Renaissance woman; I love figuring just how all the pieces come together, even if on the surface they seem to have nothing to do with each other. I am a firm believer in connections and relationships.

I’ve struggled a bit to come up with a good answer for people who truly want to know how I fit it all in, how all these subjects and activities can live side-by-side in my brain. Part of it is my training – I’ve been on a vertical learning curve all my life, so much so that it’s where I’m most comfortable and engaged. I like having a challenge nip at me until I crack the code. For me, that’s play.

But people don’t like that answer. It’s not enough of a silver bullet. And then it dawned on me (in the lady’s room, if you must know!): most people don’t give a hoot how I fit it all in and maintain so many simultaneous interests. They want to know how THEY can do that. They want “the how” that they can replicate. Now I’ve got a bit of a better answer to their question.

Generally, this is how time works in my brain:
In the morning, I am in list mode. I jot down everything I need to do for the day, in no particular order. I add to it throughout the day, though most of my to-do’s strike right when I wake up.

Some time between 5:30am and 6:30am I head out for a walk with my pup, Phineas. You might think this is a time suck because I walk him for a full hour and I don’t multi-task when I walk him. Trust me, I need it as much as he does. It clears my head to walk Phin and I find that the whole rest of my day is much more productive after I get some exercise with him. I often return with a mental list full of writing ideas and people I need to contact later on.

After my favorite meal, breakfast (another time when I don’t multi-task – I just focus on chewing), I plow through as much individual work (at home or at the office) as I can before noon because I’m a morning person and a late night person. I’m not so much of an afternoon person. (I blame my European roots for this!) If I’m commuting to work, I use the subway ride to flip through emails and read the top news stories, again making notes in my to-do list as they arise from my reading.

Then lunch rolls around and I usually read through lunch. Again, I check the news, get through some of my to-do list, and invariably add more to my to-do list. (I’ve noticed recently that I have a tendency to mindless gulp my lunch – I need to focus a bit more on my chewing this meal.)

Afternoons are for listening and gathering information. I try to have all of my meetings and phone calls in the afternoon. I’m sure there’s a brain study here, just waiting to happen. (Now adding this research to my to-do list!)

Most of the time I have plans after work, whether I’m teaching a class, taking a class, or seeing friends. That’s down time for me and recharges me for the evening. If I don’t have plans, then I take the time for myself at home.

When I arrive home, I play with Phin for a bit and read the note from his dog walker to see how he did in the afternoon. Sometimes we take a little jaunt around the block, depending upon how we’re both feeling.

I do some yoga and an 18-minute meditation every night. No matter what. I set get out my mat and bolster, set my timer, and get it done. No compromises.

Then I write, usually with Phineas sitting next to me. The writing part of my brain kicks in when the sun goes down. I’m not sure why – perhaps because the distractions of the day have fallen away by then. I feel like way up on the 17th floor, I can be alone with my thoughts when it’s dark outside. All the listening and gathering I’ve done throughout the day has had time to gel.

Yoga, meditation, and all of the personal work I’ve done over the last two years have paid off by banishing my lifetime of insomnia. Occasionally I toss and turn, though most of the time sleep finds me pretty easily. I take Phin out for a last quick minute (literally) and then I try to shut off the lights just after I catch the top stories of the 11pm news.

That’s an average work day for me. So far, it’s working though I’m always open to changing it up as needed. How does your day map out? How do you get it all done?

career, work, yoga

Beginning: Knowing When to Walk

Christa Avampato

By Miruna Uzdris
I’ve been speaking with a number of potential partners for Compass Yoga as I explore the possibility of offering on-site yoga classes. Classes begin at the Manhattan VA Hospital on October 7th. The VA development came about so quickly because one of the clinical directors has practiced yoga for quite a few years and believes in its power. She is a kindred spirit and so we’re giving this a try to see how it goes. We’re partners and collaborators.

Another organization I’ve been speaking to has not been able to mirror the experience I’ve had the VA. The Executive Director, a social worker, was on the defensive the moment I met her. I know I can help the people in her program through a yoga and meditation class. I know they will benefit greatly from my personal and professional experience. All she had to do was have an open mind and provide an space for a trial class. She would have seen the low-cost, high-quality impact immediately.

Instead her haunches were up and her aggression was released. “All that woman wants is to come in here and do her little program so she can get some PR for her website.” And worst of all, she asked one of her staff members to deliver that message rather than contacting me herself. The board and I put together Compass Yoga with a lot of heart. No one’s going to spit on our efforts on my watch. Rather than taking the second-hand abuse, I consulted with the board and walked away from the opportunity, much to the shock of the social worker.

Several hours later I got a call from the social worker, and somehow the Executive Director has completely changed her tune and is interested in having me present at a community meeting. I guess he thought I’d be honored by the invitation. Instead, I turned it down in favor of focusing our efforts on other partners who want to be true collaborators.

Here’s what I learned from this situation:

1.) We have to focus our efforts if we’re going to make this practice available to all who are open to it. There is tremendous need for wellness programming among populations like returning veterans who have specific healthcare issues that yoga and meditation can address. We don’t have time to get bogged down by naysayers and people who are trying to defeat our efforts just as we’re beginning to lift off.

2.) A fish rots from the head down, especially in the nonprofit world. If there’s a surly Executive Director in place, the chances of break-through innovation and partnership are slim to non-existent. The organization can have the greatest mission in the world, but if the leadership in place isn’t qualified to actually manage and lead then the mission, and it’s recipients, lose. Management matters.

3.) We have to be well ourselves before we can help others be well. This Executive Director is a therapist. She is trained to help others heal and transcend their own grief, and yet she is not a healthy person. I understand the scarring that can occur from being burned one too many times and the trauma that ensues. I get that on a very personal level. Before I could be a teacher, I needed to be whole and healthy. I needed to deal with my own issues so they didn’t become anyone else’s. It took great courage to face up to my issues and I’m exceedingly proud of that personal work. Many people pass one without taking this road. I hope this Executive Director takes up the challenge and heals her own grief before it’s too late for her and for the people who need her help.

4.) People will treat you the way you let them treat you. If I had let that Executive Director run over me, she would have without thinking twice. Had I gone to that community meeting under those pretenses, I would have set a dangerous precedent with her. The right and professional action to take was to walk away and focus on the partners who want to be well. We have very little time on this Earth – we have to make the most of it.

career, happiness

Beginning: The 10 Commandments of Steve Jobs

Christa Avampato

My friend, Lon, sent this infographic to me. I immediately printed it out and hung it up at my desk. I’m working on my own version of the 10 commandments – how I work and live, what I believe to be the blocks that help to build a life to a happy, fulfilling life. I’ll share them as soon as I’ve completed. Do you have a Until then, here’s Steve’s. Do you have a version you’d like to share?

death, dying, Life

Beginning: Beauty and Funerals

Christa Avampato

“Beauty once seemed to me to be an accident of nature. But now that I can see my life on my face, I realize we earn the way we end up looking. Time, it seems, gives us all a chance to really be beautiful.” ~ Ann Curry

“Nature gives you the face you have at twenty. Life shapes the face you have at thirty. But at fifty you get the face you deserve.” ~ Coco Chanel

My Uncle John passed away last week. A kind, generous man, we was one of the people who figured prominently into many of my childhood memories. He was one of those people whom I always felt so lucky to know and love. He lived into his 90’s despite an abundance of health problems for many years. He was a miracle man, a real-life version of the comeback kid.

His funeral served as yet another reminder to me that everything that surrounds us is temporary, that this is all changeable. It reminded me of what Brian and I talked about last week – that a life just spent out on the ledge isn’t really living at all. You need to have the existence you want, and no one can define that for you except you. People will try – they will tell you where and when to go, who to go with, and what you should do when you get there. During Uncle John’s services I couldn’t help but think about the idea that in the end our legacies are about the choices we make, and the ripple effects we cause in the wake of those choices.

There was a poster board of photos at John’s wake. Some of them I’d never seen and some of them I hadn’t seen in many years. I was a tiny baby in the ones I was in. My grandparents were there, as was my dad, looking many years younger than I remember them and with wide, wide smiles. I loved seeing those images and yet it was hard for me to see them, too. Particularly with my dad, I was reminded of all the lost potential, the lost opportunity that he could have had, that my whole family could have had, and in particular that I could have had if only he had gotten the right help at the right time.

I think losing people like my Uncle John is easier than losing people like my dad. John lived a full, loving life. He was grateful for his days and was able to overcome extraordinary hardships. (I found out at his funeral that he had served in the U.S. Army’s First Armored Division during World War II, the first Americans in WWII to go into armed battle.) My dad, by nature, was not grateful and there wasn’t anyone in his life who asked him to be more accountable and responsible for the life we lived. In his eyes, life happened to him. In my Uncle John’s eyes, life happened and no matter what, he chose to love life again and again. My Uncle John took full advantage of all opportunities at his doorstep, and lived a wonderful, long life as a result. My dad did not.

So we have a choice – not necessarily of when it’s our time to move on from this lifetime, but certainly how we spend each of our days in this lifetime. We can choose what we stand for, how we spend our time, and with whom. We either choose to make and take opportunities, or just react to life as it happens. Given the very stark contrast of the lives and passings of my Uncle John and my dad, I know which way I’m going. Do you?