books, design, home

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

“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

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

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

 

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

“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

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

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?

New York City, teaching, yoga

Beginning: The Truth About NYC Yoga Teacher Salaries

Well+Good NYC published a very brave post this weekend that should be required reading for anyone interested in pursuing a yoga teacher training program. I believe it is the first and only article of its kind to publish actual salary ranges for yoga teachers in New York City.

I understand why most studios and teacher training programs have shied away from putting together this type of post – it’s not good for their business. To be completely fair, the article does mention several NYC teacher training programs that are very honest with their students and I applaud their honesty. I wish more training programs would follow their lead.

Give the whole article a read when you have time. Here’s the cliff notes version – “super-established and highly credentialed yogis earn anywhere from $40K to $400K. While the salary range is huge, most yoga teachers in New York can expect to make $35K or $40K. Even if you become a really popular instructor, with 50 people in your class regularly.”

With some back-of-the-envelope math, this is how the numbers shake out:

1.) Start with $40,000 take-home pay
2.) Subtract 25% for taxes –> $40,000 – $10,000 = $30,000
3.) Assume a low rent of $1500 / month –> $30,000 – (12*$1500) = $12,000
4.) Assume $1000 of monthly expenses which includes:
food
transportation
electricity
health insurance (you need to buy your own)
clothing
personal care items
and maybe a movie or a cup of tea with a friend once in a while

You’re out of money. No savings, no room for travel or to visit family and friends, and let us hope there’s no emergency incidental that comes up (but let’s be honest, there always is!) So what do yoga teachers do? They don’t teach full-time. It’s a part-time gig that needs to be supplemented, many times by tending bar which in NYC is just about the least yogic activity I can think of.

Most teacher training programs won’t tell you this because they’re selling you the bright shiny dream of buckets of karma-filled days, luxurious retreats in tropical places, rainbows, butterflies, and unicorns. They are playing on your emotions rather than helping you to understand the current landscape. You need to be your own reality check. Reality is our friend because like a good yoga and meditation practice it grounds us. It gives us a place to build from.

I am a big believer in dreams and change. Though this is the current landscape of yoga teachers in New York City, I don’t think it will be or always has to be this way. After reading about Yoga Sutra’s bankruptcy filing, I wonder if change has already indeed begun in the NYC yoga market. It’s begging for a new and improved business model. It needs a better way forward than the current crappy business model that dominates the traditional studio scene. I’m so tired of seeing my incredibly talented teacher friends get sold a bill of goods that is as real as the emperor’s new clothes.

Change isn’t going to make itself. It requires rainmakers and firestarters to shake things up. I can take that role and run with it.

At Compass Yoga, the board members and I believe we have hit upon something really unique and interesting, something that might just get us part of the way toward cracking this nut of how to make a good living from a career dedicated to wellness. At the very least, we’re going to give it our very best shot because someone has to.

The Well+Good NYC article just added more fuel to our fire. The yoga scene in NYC is ripe for change in 2012 and we mean to be a part of moving it forward.

choices, clarity, creativity, writer, yoga

Beginning: Create Something Beautiful and Good in 2012

“That which you create in beauty and goodness and truth lives on for all time to come. Don’t spend your life accumulating material objects that will only turn to dust and ashes.” ~ Denis Waitley

It’s with more than a bit of irony to find this quote among my reading during the holiday season. It seems that almost everyone except me went on a buying frenzy in the midst of Black Friday madness. Then they got their credit cards statements and logged an unprecedented number of returns. This is a good sign for American society – perhaps we’ve turned a corner when it come to how we think about stuff. It is all just stuff.

I think about stuff a lot because I am, by profession, a product developer. However, most of the products I’ve created aren’t tangible products. They are Broadway shows that inspired people, nonprofit programs that benefited worthwhile causes, and experiences that celebrated our creative spirit.

The tangible products I’ve created over the last few years for my current employer are things I am less than proud of, actual things that I have relegated to the back of my mind, and conveniently left out of my portfolio. Creating them has afforded me a salary that has helped me to pay back a good chunk of my student loans from business school and to save an emergency fund as well as another savings account so that I can chase my dream of starting my own nonprofit. I am grateful for this gift, particularly in a time in our economy when so many people have struggled financially.

If I think about the last three years of my professional career strictly from a product development perspective, they have been wildly pointless. I have churned out product after product that I don’t believe in, would never buy, and would never counsel anyone else to buy. These three years were really just about survival in a bleak financial market. The joy has gone out of my work.

Personally, these three years have been staggeringly exceptional. I have learned more in this time than I ever thought possible – about myself, the world, and my purpose. I have made oodles of friends along the way, reinforced my confidence and convictions, and found my voice as a teacher, writer, and leader. It has been nothing short of a blessing. It has been a transformation. I found and live the dream of my life, even if at the moment it is only after regular working hours.

This dichotomy – an enriching personal life and a stagnant professional life – has been brewing for some time now. I’d say it was at a slow boil for about a year, a rolling boil for another year more, and has been at a flat out screaming boil over 2011. The only thing that can possibly come next is a quick evaporation altogether. And that’s rather what my latest career decision feel like – an evaporation of what doesn’t matter in favor of activities that do matter, to me and to the world. Compass Yoga is my attempt to follow Denis Waitley’s advice to build something beautiful and good.

It’s going to be a beautiful 2012 – just wait and see!

change, choices, clarity, inspiration, invention, writing

Beginning: How to Recognize an Ending

My year of writing about new beginnings is winding down. A few more days and my new writing adventure for 2012 will take shape. I’ll reveal more details about this shortly. For the moment, I’m thinking about endings. The end of 2011. The end of spending too much time on things that aren’t adding to the world or fulfilling my own personal purpose. Beginnings are easy to spot; endings are a bit fuzzier.

I thought my apartment building fire was an ending. Instead, it was just the start of a more authentic life. It changed everything.

I thought my father passing away was an ending. Instead, it was just the start of a healing path that would weave through my life and then be used to weave through the lives of others.

I thought the end of this year would signal a steep drop off in my pursuit of beginnings. Instead, it is just the start of the very beginning that my entire life has been preparing for. It’s not okay yet but someday, a long time from now, it will be. And I will be a part of making it so.