Month: December 2011

celebration, holiday, New Years Eve, writing

Beginning: The Art and Possibilities of Learning to Begin

Christa Avampato

“Look at everything that has come before as preparation for the spectacular future you have in store!” ~ TheSingleWoman

“There will come a time when you think everything is finished. That will be the beginning.” ~Louis L’Amour via TheSingleWoman

One of my greatest beginnings this year in my self-proclaimed year of beginnings was the decision to write daily about the idea of beginnings. Last Fall I was inspired by my friend, Amanda’s, request for a blog post about how I stay sane in NYC. I hold it together by constantly reminding myself that it’s always okay to be at the beginning. We always have to start somewhere. It’s an especially powerful sentiment in New York City, a city of experts on just about every subject there is. The post inspired an entire year of living and writing about beginning. In 365 days, I wanted to become an expert beginner. And it worked!

As 2011 draws to a close and 2012 fully blossoms, my beginner’s outlook is stronger, healthier, and more vibrant than ever. I’ve learned to lessen my grip on the desire for perfection and to be kinder to myself as I’m learning something new. I faced down the biggest fears of my life. Sometimes I failed and sometimes I succeeded in the new beginnings I tried. No matter the circumstances, I learned to enjoy the view because every step in a journey provides us with a brand new vista. And we will never pass exactly this way again under the exact same circumstances.

Each moment is a new beginning in and of itself. Beginning is living, and so if we can master beginning then our possibilities for living, really living, are limitless.

My new writing adventure begins tomorrow. Tune in to get the scoop on my 2012 living and writing plans. As always, I’m just getting started!

art, career, choices, creativity

Beginning: The Art Born of Life

Christa Avampato

“If you want to work on your art, work on your life.” – Chekhov

I spent a lot of 2011 in a mode of planning and personal development. At turns, I would get frustrated with what appeared to be a lack of progress, or at least a lack of progress at the pace I wanted. And when it comes to my personal development, I always want to pick up the pace. What I didn’t realize is that in those times when we think we aren’t making any progress, the progress is really happening under cover beneath the surface. This is the most crucial kind of progress, the kind we need to really move forward.

Think of a cut or scrape. Beneath the surface of the skin, the tissue begins to repair itself immediately after the injury occurs. It starts knitting back together one tiny cell at a time, healing from the inside out. All we can see is the outward face of the injury, the very last thing to heal, but without that inner healing, healing on the surface wouldn’t matter. In fact, if we healed from the outside in, then we would be more likely to incur a repeat injury.

Think of a house. The building process begins deep within the ground where the foundation is laid. For a long time, it may look like very little progress is being made, as if all the work is for naught. But once a strong foundation is put in place, the rest of the building goes quite smoothly. And it lasts.

We need to live our art, creativity, and dreams in their own unique and beautiful form. Spending our lives any other way guarantees only that we will wish we made different choices. Living our dreams takes time time and planning. To give our all to our art, whatever that art may be, we have to spend time honing our craft and getting other areas of our lives in proper order. We may not always see the progress, but if we are diligently working toward our goal, we can rest assured that progress is happening and will reveal itself in its own good time.

Compass Yoga was like that. My writing was like that. My education was like that. My whole life, my greatest work of art, has been like that. Progress was slow and not always apparent but it was there. Piece by piece, I was knitting together the threads of my life that would form my foundation for my life, and from my life came my art.

Our art is always born out of our lives. You wish for an artistic breakthrough? Start with a life breakthrough. And then you can get to the fun part – with the foundation in place, it’s time to build that castle in the sky.

Beijing, China, good fortune, luck

Beginning: 2012 is the Year of the Dragon. It’s My Year, Literally.

Christa Avampato
From Pinterest member http://pinterest.com/vondelpark/

I was born in 1976, a year of the Dragon in the Chinese zodiac. As much as I am a Pisces, I am a Dragon: persistent, creative, loyal, decisive, generous, compassionate, active, and fiercely independent. My friend, Allan, is from Beijing and describes Dragons in one word: Conquerors. And I think that also suits me, in my own way.

Over the past few weeks, I’ve been feeling ridiculously excited about 2012 and so it was with just a hint of synchronicity that I welcomed the news that 2012 is the year of the Dragon. The Water Dragon, to be exact – a time of great benevolence and grace. (And in yet another turn of synchronicity, my sign of Pisces is a water symbol.)

This is especially poignant for me because of all I’m planning for 2012. I’ll reveal more about my plans when I begin my new living and writing adventure on January 1st. Suffice it to say that it will be a year of tremendous change for me, a year when I will make a very large leap of faith, perhaps the biggest leap I’ve ever made. Fear will have no choice but to stand aside. It’s going to be my year.

And it’s going to be your year, too. The good luck that characterizes the Dragon extends to all people in the year of the Dragon. So make some plans. Be bold. Go after exactly what you want with everything you’ve got. Double down on all your efforts and watch the rewards flow in. If you’ve got dreams, 2012 is the year to act on them!

The Chinese new year happens on January 23, 2012.

books, design, home

Beginning: The Design of Our Homes Affects the Quality of Our Lives

Christa Avampato

“Whatever happens in the world – whatever is discovered or created or bitterly fought over – eventually ends up, in one way or another, in your house…Houses aren’t refuges from history. They are where history ends up.” ~ Bill Bryson

Two things that give me so much joy I squeal – Bill Bryson books and The Nate Berkus Show. Nate hosts a show about making our lives better and he draws much of his inspiration from his career as an interior designer. He has the philosophy that our homes are a reflection of who we are, what we value, and how we regard the future. Because I’m not particularly gifted in the spacial orientation arena, nor really in the interior design arena, I’ve been using Nate’s show and website for ideas and interior design confidence as I redesign my own small space. (Pictures and an update on the redesign to follow in a later post.)

I’ve put a bit of urgency on this redesign because of my New Year’s Resolution to spend more time working out of my home. (There will also be more details about this in my January 1st post.) Soon, my home will have to be more than a refuge – it will need to be a highly functional, productive refuge that doesn’t lose its sense of peace. Actually, it will need to heighten its sense of peace because in 2012 I will be busier than I’ve ever been which means I’ll need to have a home that really lets me get away from it all when I need to recharge. And did I mention my home weighs in at slightly under 400 square feet? How’s that for a design challenge, Nate?

So what the heck does any of this have to do with Bill Bryson? Over the holidays I learned a lot about the history of homes and private space from Bill. After giving us the giggles and sharing his deep wisdom as he recounts a life as an expat, a journey along the Appalachian Trail, and the history of a small subject called the Universe, he has turned his literary attention to the home. He swears his latest book, At Home: A Short History of Private Life,  was written out of a desire to be thoroughly comfortable and write an entire book without taking off his carpet slippers. What he found is that homes are incredibly complex, as complex as the people who inhabit them.

We too often take our shelter, and its history, for granted. This is especially true in New York City where many of the apartments are a century old or close to it. The apartment I live in now was built in 1926 by Emery Roth, the renowned architect and father of art deco. The architect was actually mentioned by the buildings manager as a feature of the building. I became slightly obsessed with the story of his life, of which very little is written or even known. His plans for the building and a personal journal of sorts are in the archives at Columbia University. Thanks to the generosity of a kind librarian, I went to see them and discovered that my building, by a sheer stroke of synchronicity, was the first fire-proof building in New York City. And my particular apartment was the maid’s quarters. Lots of history in that tiny space, and good inspiration for a writer.

I took the apartment right after my previous apartment building caught fire and was declared uninhabitable due to the smoke and fire damage. Inside the walls of that tiny space, I found out who I really was and what I’m really made of. I founded Compass Yoga there, right on my couch, and got serious about my writing. I learned how to really stand up for myself and for others who needed someone to stand up for them. This Fall, I almost moved, thinking I needed more space for the price I’m paying in monthly rent. I did a little look around and found out I have a pretty darn good deal so I stayed and decided to redecorate. Rather than move, I vowed to make the design of my tiny space more efficient, and beautiful.

How we treat the space we live has an awful lot to do with how we treat ourselves and how we treat others. In this redecorating process, I’m learning how much our space reflects who we are, who we’d like to be, and ultimately who we’ll become. Personal transformation doesn’t always require a life altering event like a building fire (though I will certainly admit that trauma speeds personal transformation along.)

Most transformation happens bit by bit, drop by drop, in those quiet moments at home when we wind down from our days and reflect on what we’ve learned. A space that makes room for such an important process deserves care, concern, and good design. After all, it’s going to house our history, too.

books, courage, creative process, creativity, innovation, writing, yoga

Beginning: Advice for Writers and Innovators from Kathryn Stockett – There’s Genius in Pain

Christa Avampato
Emma Stone, Viola David, and Octavia Spencer in The Help

“Write about something that bothers you and nobody else.” ~ The Help by Kathryn Stockett

The holiday slew of movies at the box office makes this one of my favorite times of year. I love going to the movies, watching movies on my couch, on a plane, or in an outdoor venue. One of my favorites this year was The Help, based upon Kathryn Stockett’s wonderful novel.

The heroine, Skeeter, wants very much to be a writer. (I can relate.) A publisher in New York gives her just one piece of advice – write about something that bothers you and nobody else. In other words, find what gives you pain and invent something to alleviate that pain. Pain in its many forms – anger, angst, anxiety, sadness, disappointment, heartbreak, injustice – is useful for writers and innovators. There’s genius in there.

I founded Compass Yoga on this same philosophy – simply, I was irritated. I’m glad that there are so many beautiful, shiny studios in New York City for people like me to take classes. What really bugs the heck out of me is that there aren’t a lot of places for people to go if they don’t have the financial or physical means and the confidence to take that first step. I’m also highly irritated that there isn’t more scientific research about the benefits of yoga in treating disease.

It’s terrific that 16 million Americans practice yoga. What about the other 291 million, especially those who don’t even know how much they could benefit from yoga because no one told them it could help? Who’s going to get to them and teach them and help them? And why are we so astounded and pleased that a measly 5% of Americans practice yoga when 100% of Americans could benefit from it? And why on Earth doesn’t it seem to bother anyone else? You see, my irritation is readily evident. And growing, right along with the Compass Yoga business plan.

People sometimes ask me what my big, audacious, out-of-this-world goal is with Compass Yoga. My answer: I’m going to get to those other 291 million people and at least give them the chance to give yoga a whirl. We, as individuals and as a society, have so much to gain and all I’ve got to lose is my irritation. It worked for Skeeter and this thinking can work for all of us.

art, books, business, comedy, creativity, innovation, inspiration, invention, theatre

Beginning: Make Your Own Funny

Christa Avampato
Carol Burnett and Jane Lynch on the set of Glee

“Comics say funny things and comedic actors say things funny.” ~ Ed Wynn via Carol Burnett, Happy Accidents

Over the winter holidays I started reading the wonderful book Happy Accidents, a memoir by comedic actress Jane Lynch. At turns the book is hilarious, heartwarming, and heartbreaking. Jane has the incredible ability to make people feel for her without making them feel sorry for her. I hope she’ll be writing many more books in the years to come. Carol Burnett, one of my creative heroes, wrote the forward for the book and in it she recounts a story the legendary Ed Wynn told her regarding his ideas about great comedy.

Jane Lynch is hilarious not because she tells jokes. She plays every one of her characters with a sincere sense of seriousness that makes her characters even more funny. It’s a rare and beautiful gift that she worked very hard to craft and hone. While Ed Wynn was talking about comedians and actors (and Carol Burnett extended this story as explanation of Jane’s abilities as a comedic actress), it got me thinking about how applicable this idea is to so many areas off the stage, especially to business. We have to make our own funny, meaning we need to make the very best of what we’ve got and shape into what we want it to be within the context of circumstances.

Jane Lynch isn’t handed a script full of jokes and one-liners. No one even tells her how or when to be funny. She’s given a script detailing a situation of her character, and then she runs with it. She doesn’t find the humor in the circumstances; she makes it.

Running a business is similar. We’re handed a set of market circumstances, not a business plan or even an idea of a business plan. We have to build the creative business idea and the plan that brings it to life that links to the market circumstances. We don’t happen upon a relevant and desired idea; we make it so.

I started my career working in professional theatre, and I was always surprised by the perceptions of those outside the industry who thought we were just playing. My theatre work was the very best business training I ever received (and yes, it did teach me more than my MBA.) Theatre is a lot more than actors, sets, costumes, lights, and a stage. It added up to be far greater than just the sum of its parts. It taught me how to craft not only a show, but a story, a life, and a legacy. It showed me that the very best road to take is the one we pave for ourselves.

Christmas, holiday, Muppet, music

Happy Holidays from Christa, Phineas, and Rowlf the Dog

Christa Avampato

 

Phineas and I are sending you buckets of happiness, health, and laughter for the start of a joyful 2012. Enjoy every minute of it!

(And for good measure, I’m also including a link to my favorite Christmas song of all time – Rowlf the Dog and John Denver singing a duet of Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas.)

Click to play this Smilebox greeting
holiday, New Years Eve, wishes

Beginning: Anticipating the End and Then a Beginning

Christa Avampato

“Your someday is now.” ~ @bodyheart

This time of year brings a lot of anticipation. We’ve been buying gifts, making travel arrangements, setting holiday dinner menus, planning time to see dear friends and family, reflecting on the year that’s almost over, and pondering the landscape of the year to come with resolutions and changes. The long wait is over and the holidays are now in full swing.

We wait in wonder for this time of universal change when the clock strikes midnight on the very first day of our new year and we all get a clean slate. We are giddy with excitement, and maybe just a touch of anxiety. Change of any kind can be simultaneously inspiring and scary for all of us.

This next week is a magical time and one of my favorites. Its days are dreamy, filled with hope and promise. 2011 was a rough year the world over. And now that I think about it, these past several years have been a rough go. There’s something special about 2012. I can’t recall the last time I was this excited about a new year. A firm believer in the idea that we can make a fresh start at any time in any place, I’m surprised by how much I’m looking forward to toasting with a little bubbly and joining in on a verse of Auld Lang Syne.

But there will be time for that. The new year will be here soon enough and our plans will begin to take shape. For now, I’m deeply breathing in every ounce of holiday I can find, knowing that everything on the other side of 2011 is going to be just fine. I’m taking in this moment, right now, and tossing up a healthy dose of gratitude for my existence in it.

Happy holidays to all!

art, career, commitment, determination, passion, theatre

Beginning: My Only Talent Is My Tenaciousness

Christa Avampato
Paul Newman, the man who never stopped trying

“Acting doesn’t come natural to me. I’m very cerebral about it, unlike Joanne (Woodward), who is an intuitive actor. Acting to me is like dredging a river. It’s a painful experience. I simply do not have the intuitive talent. I worry about acting and constantly complain to myself about my own performance…and this doesn’t fall into the area of self-deprecation. I don’t know the things I have a gift for except tenaciousness…I never felt I had any gift at all to perform but it was something that I wanted badly enough so I kept after it.” ~ Paul Newman, Inside the Actor’s Studio

I had lunch with my dear friend, Trevin, yesterday. Eventually, he will be the Editor of The New York Times Theatre section because he knows just about every historical fact there is to know about the theatre. He tipped me off to the first episode of Inside the Actors Studio, on which Paul Newman was a guest. I found the episode in its entirety on YouTube and for the first time, I heard someone articulate how I feel about my own career and craft. My only real gift is tenaciousness. And I finally stopped feeling badly about that because I’m in good company with Paul Newman.

If I want something badly enough, I will figure out how to make it happen. It was true through all of my schooling, in every job I’ve ever had, in my writing, teaching, and business work. None of it came naturally or easily but I wanted my successes so much that I just refused to give up. And as Babe Ruth famously said, “It’s hard to beat a person who never gives up.” (Incidentally, this is incredibly true for yoga instructors as I wrote about on a post back in May.) I’ve never understood the idea that we should take the road of least resistance. All of the roads before me, if they were even built at all, were riddled with obstacles and resistance. I just decided to get around, over, under, and through them with every tool I could find.

I also tried very hard for my failures. I’ve failed at a good many things in my life, but it was never for lack of trying. Only a lack of truly wanting. I eventually failed at those things because I simply didn’t want to keep trying to get better at them. I found that they just weren’t worth all of the effort I would need to extend to make them happen. I moved on.

People have asked me if this year of beginnings has been frightening or discouraging to me. After all, I purposely put myself in the beginners seat and as if that weren’t enough, I shared all of it every day here on my blog for the entire world to read and judge (if they chose to.) For some I guess this process would have been frightening. For me, it was a year filled with days like all the days of my life.

I started each morning of this year exactly the same way as I’ve started every morning of my life – as someone who had to try very hard at every moment to make my life work the way I wanted it to work. Some days I was successful and some days I failed miserably. When each day was done and I put myself to bed, I was grateful for every single one no matter the outcome.

I am a perpetual beginner: always curious, never satisfied, and in constant search of my edge and my limitations. I guess you could say I’m a professional beginner because it’s the only thing I’ve ever really been. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

art, music

Beginning: We’ve All Got Music

Christa Avampato
by Rob Walker

“I was born with music inside me. Music was one of my parts. Like my ribs, my kidneys, my liver, my heart. Like my blood. It was a force already within me when I arrived on the scene. It was a necessity for me – like food or water.”  ~ Ray Charles

I saw this photograph in a recent article in the New York Times Magazine. I think about it every morning as I walk to my office building, joining in the foot traffic that’s winding its way down to the financial district. Most people are in suits, but I have to believe underneath that gray / navy blue exterior, there’s a musician just dying to break out from its cloistered existence. We’ve all got a little Ray Charles.

For some it may actually be a passion for music, but really the instruments in this photo represent all creative acts to me – be they writing, painting, making pottery, styling hair, interior design, or teaching. I have always believed that we are all inherently creative. This photo is the visual depiction of that belief and it makes me grin from ear to ear.

What’s your art and how are you practicing it?