Month: February 2015

choices, decision-making

This just in: Sometimes all you can do is roll with it

Christa Avampato

The Hero’s Journey is never a choice between a good option and a bad option. It’s a choice between difficult options. Whenever I’m faced with this kind of choice, I play out the scenarios of each. Yesterday I was faced with a very sad and hurtful reality. I needed to make a quick decision and I knew neither choice was perfect – far from it.

The best choice would be to dial my life back about 6 months and make a very different choice at that juncture. Since I don’t have a time machine on- hand, all I had were my current not-so-great options.

So I chose the one with the least amount of conflict, internal and external. Not because I’m at all afraid of conflict, but because the conflict would have involved other innocent people who didn’t have anything to do with my tough predicament and whom I wanted to spare seeing and hearing the direct conflict. As hurtful as it was for me, it would have been worse for them.

I took my punches. They hurt. I stood up again and kept moving forward. Sometimes that’s what life gives you – punches – and the best thing you can do is roll with it. Make the tough choice and let the chips fall where they may knowing you can handle whatever comes next.

animals, dogs, health, pets

This just in: Take your time to heal

Christa Avampato
Phin on crate rest
Phin on crate rest

As Phin became stronger this past week, I exercised the right (with his doctor’s permission) to put him on a blanket on the floor next to me to let him stretch out a bit more. The trouble is that now he’s getting so much better (though not totally back to normal) that he wants to take a stroll around the living room. He’s even slyly snuck away a few times to venture (slowly and wobbly) into the kitchen.

I understand his impatience—like mother, like dog. So now we’re back to strict crate rest despite his energy rebound. He’s not happy about this. He gives me his best Bette Davis eyes. One time, I think he actually winked at me. I can’t blame him the little guy for trying to turn on the charm in an attempt to secure a get-out-of-jail-free card. I’m not happy about it either and I’m not even the one stuck in the crate.

Healing, any kind of healing for anyone, takes time and rest and dedication. Healing is a lot of work. Let’s face it – the whole process of healing is a pain in the rear. And if we rush it, if we do too much too soon because we want so much to just get back to normal, then we risk robbing ourselves of all the potential that waits for us on the other side of healing.

I want Phin to make a full and complete recovery. I’m looking forward to the days when he and I can take our walks together again in the sunshine and fresh air. And they’ll happen; I know that. Come spring, we’ll take our spin around the Tidal Basin and he’ll roll around on that precious little healed back in the cherry blossoms. It’s just going to take some time and patience on both our parts – him in a crate and me sitting next to his crate as I write – marching toward our common goal to be well and whole.

business, writing

This just in: Use negative experiences as fuel

Christa Avampato
Geraldine Weiss - an investment leader for the past 50 years
Geraldine Weiss – an investment leader for the past 50 years

Yesterday I wrote an article about the most successful women investors. It’s a subject that doesn’t get much attention, and I’m impressed by the foresight of my editors to assign it. After doing my research, I’m tremendously inspired by these women and what they’ve accomplished in a heavily male-dominated industry. They received plenty of hate mail, discouragement, and flat out sabotage from male counterparts, and they didn’t let it stop them. Instead they used it as fuel to reach higher. I’ll be very excited to see this one published, share their stories, and inspire others. I’ll post the link when it’s live.

choices

This just in: Magic is waiting for you in an uncomfortable place

Christa Avampato

This is where the magic's hidingI saw this hand drawn index card yesterday and it felt fitting since I’m preparing for another move into a future that seems uncertain. Whenever I get a little queasy about leaving my comfort zone, I remember this: all futures are uncertain. We’re never sure exactly what’s going to happen, even when we have created the very best of plans designed for our comfort. Outside the comfort zone, our gut is our secret weapon. In an uncertain world, the gut is the best gauge of what move to make next. It’s attuned to things our brain just can’t get a read on. The gut has its own magic, and that magic will never fail us.

career, moving, Washington

This just in: Moving to Washington D.C.

Christa Avampato
Moving back to Washington D.C.
Moving back to Washington D.C.

I have loved being in Florida this winter and having so much quality time with my family, particularly my two amazing nieces. I’m thrilled that I learned first-hand about the market here; it just isn’t a fit for me in the long-term and that’s not surprising. I’m abundantly grateful to my sister and brother-in-law who made it possible for me to try out Orlando. I couldn’t do what I’m doing without them.

Washington D.C. has always been a possibility for me, and I’ve decided it’s time to make a move back to that area this year. I’m looking forward to working with mission-driven organizations and talented teams there who want to build a better world. I’ll be looking into product development and marketing-related roles (consulting or full-time).

There are huge bonuses in D.C. beyond just career. I have many friends there and all along the Northeast corridor who will be back within an easy train ride, public transit, culture, the arts, a change of seasons, and the close proximity to my alma maters, Darden and Penn.There’s also a growing and thriving tech and entrepreneurial scene which is exciting to me. I’m under no illusions that any place is perfect, but for this time in my life and career, D.C. is a wonderful option for me.

My first priority is to get Phin fully healed from spinal surgery, and then I hope to be in D.C. with the cherry blossoms. So the next great adventure begins. As I’ve said before, 2015 is a year of change and surprise so this upcoming chapter is no exception. D.C. and Northeast friends, I’ll see you soon!

balance, career, frustration, future

This just in: 2015 is already a year I didn’t see coming

Christa Avampato
Who knows what's around the bend in 2015?!
Who knows what’s around the bend in 2015?!

Whenever something surprises my 4-year-old niece, Aubree, she says, “I did not see that comin’!” in her trademark raspy little voice. I find myself saying that on a more than daily basis this year. At the end of 2014, I looked up my horoscope for 2015 and it emphasized that this year would be tumultuous to say the least. I dismissed that prediction as sensationalism, laughed, and moved on. Or at least I thought I did.

A word to the wise: when you doubt the stars, they get ticked off and feel the need to make their presence and power known. For entities that are over 4 light years away, these little buggers bring their force right to the doorstep the moment they feel disrespected.

We’re only one month in and the first word that comes to mind when I think of 2015 is “mayhem”. Nothing’s going the way I thought it would. My pup, Phin, had surgery, some of my clients are throwing curve balls at me right and left, I’m contemplating new career opportunities in new places, and some of my nearest and dearest people are having deep troubles and challenges. What’s going on?

What’s saving me now is what’s always saved me—the authors I read, the characters I write, and my friends. They give me hope, courage, inspiration, and the will to keep going. They’re lighting the path ahead of me one step, one word, at a time. And I’m learning that this slowly advancing light, however frustrating, is something to be treasured. It’s teaching me to trust in every day, in every experience. It’s not easy, and it’s about as fun as having my wisdom teeth removed. Still, I’m willing to go along for the ride. I’m willing to lift up my head and squint into the distance to see what there is to see.

Last week during a particularly low day, my friend Alex said that whenever she feels down she tries to envision her life 3 months from now. That quick technique helps her to keep going. The challenges of today are the victories of tomorrow, and the course of those victories largely depends on what we do right now with the resources we’ve got on-hand. We do what we can with what we’ve got.

I may not have seen the events of January coming, but I am equipped to handle them whatever they are. One at a time, day by day. In the words of John Lennon and Paul McCartney, I’m getting by with a little help from my friends, real and imaginary.

animals, dogs, health, patience, pets

This just in: Healing is like Yoda

Christa Avampato
Yoda, one of my favorite sages
Yoda, one of my favorite sages

Becoming a Jedi takes patience, puzzling, waiting, and a lot of slow learning. So does healing. What I hate most about the healing process is the waiting. I can’t do anything to speed it up, and I like to do things. I like to contribute. Healing is on its own watch, and I want it to be on mine. I’d like to snap my fingers, and have Phineas’s spinal column immediately knit itself back together so that he can walk again without a shred of difficulty or discomfort. Is that so much to ask?

I’ve been sleeping on an air mattress next to Phin’s crate since he came home on Friday. (Don’t feel bad for me—it’s a nice, comfy air mattress.) I spend a lot of time watching over him, and a lot of time waiting for the magic of healing which is taking its sweet time when I want it to use a magic wand. Healing, stop holding out on me. I’ve never been known for my patience. Quite the contrary. If something can be done today, right this minute, I’m doin’ it. Why can’t healing have that same work ethic? Why is it so damn lazy?

The body’s magic; life is magic. I get it. The surgeon drilled a hole into one of Phin’s vertebrae, cleaned out the ruptured disc area, and now the bone and disc are going to magically regenerate themselves in about 4-6 weeks. Okay, okay. We (humans and animals) are all tiny miracles of growth and progress and evolution. I know it’s a miracle that we have these soft squishy bodies that heal themselves through no effort on our part save for sleeping, eating, and, occasionally, taking some meds. Awesome. Now hurry up!

My pleas and prayers for an overnight recovery have thus far gone unanswered. The universe is making us sit, and wait, and watch, and learn. And I’ll do all those things because healing isn’t giving me a choice. It’s the boss, the teacher, the wise old sage, rocking in the corner, who’s earned the right to do things when it’s good and ready and satisfied that we’ve earned and learned everything it meant for us to earn and learn in the process. I’m thick-headed; I always have been. Lessons take a long time to seep into this skull of mine and make themselves at home in the deep recesses of my brain.

I’m inflating the air mattress. I’m giving Phin his meds wrapped in cheese (he’s crazy for Havarti), and tucking a soft blanket around him. He closes his eyes and drifts away into conversation with the sage, away from any pain, into a dream world where he walks and runs and is by all accounts perfectly healthy in every way. For him, for now, that’s enough. He’s content to give his body all the time it needs. I smile, and wait.

art, creativity, Life

This just in: Take a step back

Christa Avampato
Take a step back
Take a step back

“If you see a whole thing — it seems that it’s always beautiful. Planets, lives… But up close a world’s all dirt and rocks. And day to day, life’s a hard job, you get tired, you lose the pattern.” ~Ursula K. Le Guin

If we just look at life day by day, it can seem frustrating. All we’ll see is the small step we took today, and the long road ahead of us that we still have to travel to get to where we’d like to go. Whenever that overwhelms me, I reflect. I look how far I’ve come from where I started. I step back. That perspective helps me to get back to work. Like the ingredients of a cake, or the brushstrokes of a painting, daily life becomes so much more than dirt and rocks, so much more than the sum of its parts. Together, those days create meaning and purpose. Together, they make a difference.