“May all who enter as guests leave as friends.” ~ Unknown
I’ve started to explore different neighborhoods in D.C., including my own! Though I have a general sense of some things in D.C., it really does feel like I’ve landed in a brand new place because the city is so different from 10 years ago. It’s blossomed into a fascinating mix of revitalization and preservation. Part of my exploration is to see how I feel in different neighborhoods as potential places to buy my first home. My hope is that I can build a home here that becomes a place where people gather and share and learn. I’m not exactly sure what form that will take, but I do know I want a house where people enter as guests and always leave as friends. I want my home to feel homey for everyone who visits.
Yesterday I learned some tough lessons. I didn’t cause them, but sadly I’m the only who has to deal with the fall out. Once I got over the initial shock of the reality, I had to quickly gain perspective. And I did, and I will, because of one simple belief: everything that happens has the potential to make us better if we use it with that intent. Even the things that hurt. Even the things that disappoint us and make us want to crawl under our beds to wait for sunnier skies.
The tough circumstances we face won’t resolve themselves. They won’t magically disappear if we ignore them. If anything, they’ll get worse and we won’t learn the lessons that they have to teach us. So after a short breakdown I picked up the phone, devised a plan, and took action. I don’t know if that plan will work. I’m going to give it my best shot and file away this moment as an opportunity to learn that will someday serve me well. Sometimes life beats the heck out of you, and you might be down but you’re only out if you give up. Keep learning. Keep going.
I have a difficult time asking for help, though to make this move to D.C. I needed help in a number of areas. I let my vulnerability show. Certainly there were people who kicked me when I was down, who took the opportunity to make themselves feel better by making me feel worse. I cut them loose. They were the vast minority and I realized in short order that I didn’t need that kind of energy in my life. Nearly everyone who heard about my move asked how they could help. It was an incredible feeling to have that kind of support, and I’m grateful for it every day. I’ve learned so much in this move and the most valuable lesson is this: when you ask for help nearly everyone will want to do whatever they can to help. My friends had an apartment for me to rent immediately. Others called, texted, and emailed me during my drive and the day I arrived to see if I was okay and if I needed anything. Friends have recommended me for jobs, and many people have cheered me on every day before, during, and after the move.
You might be going through a tough time right now – the loss of a job, difficulties with loved ones, or the general heaviness of life. Reach out. Connect. Let people know what you’re going through and what you need, and they will step forward and lend a hand. I know because I’m one of them. We’re in this together and to make life easier, happier, and healthier for each other. That’s what matters.
“I like it when a flower or a little tuft of grass grows through a crack in the concrete. It’s so f*ckin’ heroic.” ~George Carlin
Plenty of businesses utilize biomimicry, the art of using nature’s adaptations to create superior products. For example, swimsuit material that replicates the skin of a shark as it efficiently glides through water. George Carlin gives us a different way of looking at biomimicry—replicating the bravery and courage of nature to grow and flourish in a place that seems unlikely if not impossible.
No one tells a flower it can’t grow in a crack in the sidewalk. No one tells a trickle of water that it can’t wear down a stone over time. Nature just finds an opportunity to spread its wings, and goes for it. There’s a lesson from nature we should all take to heart.
I start every day with 10 minutes of meditation. I used to sit up in bed, close my eyes, and just focus on my breath. For the last couple days I’ve been trying something different—I remain lying down, eyes closed, and let my mind create a story. It’s completely spontaneous and I don’t force the characters or actions. Something akin to free writing with only my mind.
When I open my eyes, I try to get it all down as accurately as I can without editing. What strikes me about this meditation method is that the little stories that float through my mind aren’t in my voice at all. It’s literally like my imagination is just telling me a story, and my conscious mind is the willing audience of one.
On Friday morning I started thinking about Levi, a character I’ve been working on for a few months. This was his stream of consciousness:
“Have you ever felt like God was listening? I mean really listening, and watching and waiting to see just how much you really need something? Best I can tell that thinking’s for church ladies and the grieving. And they say love is blind. Grief? That’s way worse. Grieving people come up with all kinds of hidden meanings when something terrible’s happened to them or someone they love.
I know all about grief. I see it every day, even on weekends. I try to steer clear of it but that’s impossible when you share a house with dead people. My mom and dad are here, too, but they’re so busy tending to dead people, and the living people who love the dead people, that they barely notice me. It’s their job. They’re morticians.
Now don’t you go feeling sorry for me just because I have busy parents who find a corpse more interesting than me. I’m fine, really fine. Shelby, my next door neighbor, says I should be grateful for the neglect because it sure beats smothering. I have to agree, mostly because I’m not in a position to disagree with Shelby. Shelby’s the producer of my soon-to-be radio show, and she’s gonna make me famous. That is if I don’t screw it all up in the process.
I’ve got a dilemma, and I’m really gonna need some help soon. That’s where you come in. Dead people are calling me, and they’re not easy customers to please. They’ve got demands and I’m not really in the position to tell them I can’t do their bidding. They’re dead so they’ve got nothing else to lose. Me? I got everything to lose. Including my dreams of having my own radio show, my producer, and my chance to meet my idol, Al Green.
I was hanging out in bed, practicing death yesterday. I’m trying to put myself in their shoes. Call it customer research. It’s not hard really. I just lay there on my back, hands on my belly, and try not to move or breathe much.You’re not gonna believe this but death feels pretty relaxing. No wonder everybody dies eventually. You should give it a try, just to see what it feels like since someday we’re all gonna die. Might as well be prepared for what’s coming. Death’s not scary at all. You really want to feel scared? Try living.”
Over the years, Phin and I have worked nearly every angle to help manage his separation anxiety—several trainers, numerous practice exercises, a serious amount of walking, toys to keep him occupied and busy, medications, aromatherapy, and even a few months with my mom in Florida. The one thing we never tried was a second dog. I was worried about taking on the expense and work of a second pup, and many people convinced me that a second dog wouldn’t help. “He’s just not a city dog,” they’d say. Or worse, “He was meant to be with a family that’s home all the time, not a single person who works.” I’ve shed a lot of tears and experienced a huge amount of anxiety because I was worried I just couldn’t help him.
It’s been two weeks since we moved to D.C., and my friends Matt and Alex whom we rent from have a sweet pup, Otis. Otis and Phin get along very well and they were immediate friends. We just open up the door between my apartment and their house, and Otis and Phin pal around together all day. It’s an incredible situation, and I’m so grateful for it. And Phin’s anxiety when I leave the house? Gone. Turns out what he needed all this time was a pal to be in the world with. And isn’t that what we all need? No matter how heavy life gets, as long as we’ve got a friend we’re okay. Another beautiful lesson from the world of canines.
Today we’re getting a cold, icy, snowy mix of weather in the D.C. area. Here’s the thing – it’s temporary. Everything’s temporary. In a month, spring is going to be here (and almost everywhere else, too) and it’s going to be amazing. This city, and many cities in the Northeast, explode with life and joy once spring arrives. And why shouldn’t they? After this winter, we deserve to bask in the sun as much as we can.
D.C. will welcome its outrageously beautiful cherry blossoms from March 20th – April 13th during the National Cherry Blossom Festival. The end of the festival is supposed to be the peak time for these pink and white flowers that magically bring a smile to everyone’s face. Phin and I will be there. I hope you can join us. So hang in there. I’m going to chug some (very) hot chocolate now and dream about the spring that is only days away for all of us.
You can’t miss the beat in New York City because it’s often hitting you right in the face. In D.C., there isn’t so much a beat as there is a hum. It’s low and steady. You have to listen more than you talk to catch it. I caught my first few notes of it when I was out yesterday afternoon. I turned the corner from Connecticut onto N Street and there was a hush on the street that caught my attention. I felt supported by that hush, almost like it was carrying me to the next place I needed to be, helping me along without rushing me in any way. My steps were lighter, my breathing easier. I smiled. It feels good to finally be exactly where I need to be doing exactly what I need to do. And it doesn’t get better than that.
“Doubt is a question mark; faith is an exclamation point. The most compelling, believable, realistic stories have included them both.” ~Criss Jami
Our lives have both doubt and faith, especially in times of change. We’re worried about what might happen next, and we’re equally excited about the possibilities. We trust the process, and still wonder what we can do to help it along in the event of the slight chance that the process isn’t fine without a little encouragement from us.
Stories weave together the same way our lives do. Characters have doubt and faith. In the best stories the doubt gets the best of them and launches them into all kinds of sticky situations. No wonder stories resonate so deeply with us. They give us faith that if our favorite characters can overcome their circumstances, then so can we. Reading stories is an act of pure faith.
“Love doesn’t just sit there, like a stone, it has to be made, like bread; remade all the time, made new.” ~Ursula K. Le Guin
As it is with love so it is with life. We have to constantly renew it, nurture it, and tend to it. When we have a healthy relationship with one, then things seem to fall into place with the other. Love and life, two sides, same coin. Love life, and live with love.
Christa Avampato 