Author: Christa Avampato

The short of it: Writer. Health, education, and art advocate. Theater and film producer. Visual artist. Product geek. Proud alumnae of the University of Pennsylvania (BA) and the Darden School of Business at the University of Virginia (MBA). Inspired by ancient wisdom & modern tech. Proliferator of goodness. Opener of doors. Friend to animals. Fan of creative work in all its wondrous forms. I use my business skills to create passion projects that build a better world. I’ve been called the happiest New Yorker, and I try hard to live up to that title every day. The long of it: My career has stretched across Capitol Hill, Broadway theatre, education, nonprofit fundraising, health and wellness, and Fortune 500 companies in retail, media, entertainment, technology, and financial services. I’ve been a product developer and product manager, theater manager, strategic consultant, marketer, voice over artist, , teacher, and fundraiser. I use my business and storytelling to support and sustain passion projects that build a better world. In every experience, I’ve used my sense of and respect for elegant design to develop meaningful products, services, programs, and events. While building a business career, I also built a strong portfolio as a journalist, novelist, freelance writer, interviewer, presenter, and public speaker. My writing has appeared in The Washington Post, The Huffington Post, PBS.org, Boston.com, Royal Media Partners publications, and The Motley Fool on a wide range of topics including business, technology, science, health, education, culture, and lifestyle. I have also been an invited speaker at SXSW, Teach for America, Avon headquarters, Games for Change, NYU, Columbia University, Hunter College, and the Alzheimer’s Foundation of America. The first book in my young adult book series, Emerson Page and Where the Light Enters, was acquired by a publisher and launched in November 2017. I’m currently working on the second book in the series. A recovering multi-tasker, I’m equally at home in front of my Mac, on my yoga mat, walking my rescue dog, Phineas, traveling with a purpose, or practicing the high-art of people watching. I also cut up small bits of paper and put them back together as a collage artist. My company: I’m bringing together all of my business and creative career paths as the Founder of Double or Nothing Media: • I craft products, programs, and projects that make a difference; • I build the business plans that make what I craft financially sustainable; • I tell the stories that matter about the people, places, and products that inspire me. Follow my adventures on Twitter at https://twitter.com/christanyc and Instagram at https://instagram.com/christarosenyc.
courage, fear

Doing the Impossible

Christa Avampato

This post is available as a free podcast on Cinch and iTunes.

“You gain strength, courage and confidence by every experience in which you stop to look fear in the face. … You must do the thing you think you cannot do.” ~ Eleanor Roosevelt

“Are your projects as “Mad” as the Mad Times demand?” ~ Tom Peters

I went to interview for a freelance project a few weeks ago. When I dug a little deeper, the project being sold was not a project I wanted though just going through the process of applying gave me an interesting insight. For a moment at the beginning of the conversation, I began to wonder if I could really do the project I applied for. Maybe I didn’t have quite enough experience yet. Maybe I needed to gain just a bit more knowledge than I already have.

I do this a lot. I go to my edge and then get frightened that I’m in way over my head. But it’s those moment when I was way under water that I learned the most about my capabilities and where I gained the most confidence. The mad ideas, the ones that really out there are the ones that made a difference; they’re the ones that gave me the most joy because they were the most fun. They also appeal to my internal rebel.

To really live, to be in this world for the sheer experience of being alive, requires a certain fearlessness in the face of everything we should be afraid of. We live in wild and crazy times, and we need wild and crazy ideas to make any headway. Living at the edge and pushing the boundaries is the only way to grow. We aren’t born with a slip in hand that tells us what our potential is. We won’t know our potential until we really test ourselves and begin the very projects that we think we cannot do, the ones that we think are much too big.

What are the dreams that you think are too mad, too far out there, too difficult to accomplish? Put your energy there.

The image above can be found here.

This blog is part of the 2011 WordPress Post Every Day Challenge.

dreams, talents

You Have The Makings of a Cathedral

Christa Avampato

This post is available as a podcast on Cinch and iTunes.

“A rock pile ceases to be a rock pile the moment a single man contemplates it, bearing within him the image of a cathedral.” ~ Antoine de Saint-Exupery

We’ve all got rock piles in our lives – raw material lying around begging for use and purpose. Skills, connections, passions, new and creative ideas that turn reality on its head. Some we’re starting to tap and develop, and some are waiting for their turn in the lime light of our attention.

This raw material takes on a certain kind of magic when we consider how we can bind it all together into something we are proud to take out into the world. It’s that book you’ve wanted to write, that class you’ve wanted to give, that piece of art that lies dormant in a blank canvas longing for color. We have this terrible habit of comparing ourselves to all of the other people in the world with our same talents and interests, wondering how we can possibly carve out a little space where our unique voice can be heard. That habit creates fear, which leaves so much work undone. To quote John Lennon, “too many people die with the music still in them.”

This image of a cathedral builder is an inspirational one. It represents hope and confidence in our ability to do and be something extraordinary, to make a powerful, lasting, and meaningful contribution to the world. All this raw material can be transformed the moment we take a different perspective and begin to see the raw material as a resource to live our best lives.

Tell me, what is the cathedral you hope to build?

The image above depicts the cathedral in Salamanca, Spain. I wish there had been a photo credit with it but I couldn’t find one. Can you believe how much light it holds?

This blog is part of the 2011 WordPress Post Every Day Challenge.

meditation, yoga

Beginning: Free 21-day Meditation Challenge With The Chopra Center

Christa Avampato

Earlier this month I heard Dr. Deepak Chopra speak about his new book, The Soul of Leadership. I was so inspired by that talk that I noodled around on his website for a good, long time and eventually found my way to his posting about his free 21-day Meditation Challenge. I’ve been participating in the 21-day Yoga Challenge with Yoga Journal and have found it to be incredibly beneficial to my practice and my teaching. I am certain that this 21-day Meditation Challenge will do the same.

If you’ve ever wanted to give meditation a try, been facing some difficulties setting up a regular mediation practice, or have a regular practice that you want to strengthen, let’s give this a try together and see what we find. It kicks off tomorrow, January 24th, and includes daily, guided meditations with davidji, the master meditation teacher and dean of Chopra Center University. All of the meditations are online so you can participate no matter where you live. All you need is an internet connection and a quiet place to sit and be. Sign up here.

This blog is part of the 2011 WordPress Post Every Day Challenge.

fiction, writing

Beginning: Strange As Fiction

Christa Avampato

This post is available as a podcast on Cinch and iTunes.

“Writing is my vacation from living.” ~ Eugene O’Neill via Quotes4Writers

“Writing is an exploration. You start from nothing and learn as you go.” ~ E L Doctorow via Quotes4Writers

Fiction writing is difficult for me. Writing directly from my life in the first person as I do on this blog is far easier. Fiction writing is really an act of faith, fumbling around in the dark, not quite sure where it’s going, or how or even why. The characters are strangers to the writer at the beginning of the project and they’re family by the end of it.

Over the past month I’ve been working on some fiction writing. Actually bits and pieces of it have been in the making for a number of years. First as a series of short stories I played around with, then as the start of several different complete stories that I thought may eventually see the light of day. Then as I was out running some errands this afternoon, I realized that all these stories actually hang together, that all of these characters that I thought were so separate actually live near one another and their lives will cross and re-cross in ways that I didn’t realize as I was writing each smaller, separate piece. And that meshing together got me jazzed to learn more about them.

Sounds crazy doesn’t it? Fiction writing is a crazy process. I don’t understand all of its inner workings, how stories and characters and through lines come together into a cohesive whole. There’s a little magic thrown in for certain. Our imaginations are wondrous, wild, and precious things.

I do know that fiction writing stokes my creativity more than non-fiction writing. It scares me in the same way that meeting new people can sometimes be scary. We have to take a chance on these characters, and sometimes they disappoint us and hold up a mirror to us so that we see things about ourselves that we would really prefer to ignore.

I’ve tried to let them go sometimes, but I can’t. Years later, despite my neglect, these characters are still hanging around my writing door, determined to stay there until I let them in, give them some tea, and get to know their stories. They are stubborn and will not be silenced. I appreciate those traits. I’m the same way, so I’ve decided to let them have their say. Pen to paper, taking dictation.

This blog is part of the 2011 WordPress Post Every Day Challenge.

risk

Beginning: The Risk Outside Our Comfort Zone

Christa Avampato

This post is also available as a podcast on Cinch and iTunes.

“Behold the turtle. He makes progress only when he sticks his neck out.” ~ James Bryant Conant

A lot of people I know are thinking about changes in their lives, or are in the midst of change, expected and unexpected. They are wondering whether taking a chance is really the right thing to do. They’re plagued by fears of failure and unhappiness and embarrassment. Pursuing a dream can be a scary thing — it takes courage to announce to the world what you’d like to do and then go do it because there is always the risk of face planting and then having to explain what went wrong. And who likes to be wrong?

I’m having this issue, too, roughly every hour on the hour. I have been waking up with a perpetual nightmare that I’m sitting all alone in the beautiful yoga studio I’ve rented because no one showed up for class. Now, this is a slight over-reaction considering how many people have RSVP’d just through the Meet-up group for the class and I still have roughly 75% of a marketing plan up my sleeve. But it could happen. Failure can always happen, no matter how successful we’ve been in the past, no matter how good an idea we have may be. The possibility of failure is never 100% erased from a situation.

So here’s some advice: listen to James Bryant Conant and think about yourself as a turtle. You’re all curled up in your nice warm shell, safe and protected from the outside world. It’s important to have that shell with you – whenever you make a change or try something new, it’s nice to know a safe retreat is available should you need a private place to lick your wounds a bit and heal from a plan gone wrong. But you just can’t stay in there forever and be happy. Every once in a while, you need to have a peek at the outside world. To get anywhere, you’re just going to have to climb out of that shell for a while and be exposed, moving one step at a time.

Others have done it. You can, too. Let’s stick our necks out there together and encourage one another along the road. Let’s make some progress.

This blog is part of the 2011 WordPress Post Every Day Challenge.

change, determination, failure, fear

Beginning: Confidence in Your Ability to Navigate the Tides

Christa Avampato

This post is also available as a podcast on Cinch and iTunes.

“You must know that you can swim through every change of tide.” ~ Yogi Tea

This post follows on the heels of my posts encouraging you to focus, do worthy work, and take a risk. I didn’t learn to swim until I was 30, so I know how scary literal tide shifts can be. The tides of change – they’re even scarier. I will turn situations over and over in my mind, imagining every possible bad scenario that will be wrought by some change. In the past year, Brian and I have worked on my confidence, and that confidence building has largely come into play when the ground is shifting and the tides are churning. I’m so worried about getting swallowed up whole by change that I’m not giving enough credit to my ability to swim.

When a wave comes at us in the ocean, the worst thing to do is keep our heads up and fight it. Instead, diving in, and through, is the best thing to do. Waves of change are like this, too. Maybe the fear of change, particularly if you see it coming down the road at you, has you worried. It’s a change in a relationship, a job, where you live, or what makes you feel alive. Take comfort in the fact that you can swim through that change. It doesn’t have to barrel over you. You can go along and be taken to a place you never even dreamed of because you never knew of its possibility.

This blog is part of the 2011 WordPress Post Every Day Challenge.

finance, money, work

Beginning: Worthy Work

Christa Avampato

This post is available as a podcast on Cinch and iTunes.

“Far and away the best prize that life has to offer is the chance to work hard at work worth doing.” ~ Theodore Roosevelt

“Is that really going to help you make enough money?” a friend recently asked me about my business, Compass Yoga. I didn’t get my yoga teacher training nor did I start my company in order to quit my job and make my entire income from it. The intention was, and continues to be, to do something that made my time worthwhile. The job I do for money is fine. I work with nice people, I have some flexibility in my schedule, it’s helping me pay down my school loans, and I have the chance to learn about new technologies and market innovations. It’s not the work of my life, but it makes my life’s work possible under my current circumstances.

My friend, Amy, recently told me about a book called Your Money Or Your Life. I haven’t read it yet but it’s on order through Amazon. Since I work in financial services and have always been fascinated by the psychology of money (mostly because I grew up with very few financial resources), I’m looking forward to exploring the framework. The premise of the book is this: where are you trying to go, how much do you need to get there, and what plan can you put in place right now with the income you have to get you to that point, whatever that point is? Its authors put forward the idea that it is okay to have a job that makes you money to pour into your passions. They give readers permission to separate their financial life and the work that they are most passionate about.

Now, if you are making money from your greatest passion, then I applaud you. (Please tell me how it’s going, too!) Your Money or Your Life, and this post, are for those of us who are grappling with having a job that makes us some good money but doesn’t necessarily light our fire the way our other interests do. I spoke a bit about this for my interview with Liz Massey on Creative Liberty. I spent the early part of my career working in theatre. By all accounts I had exactly the job I wanted. The trouble with that job was I worked so many hours, often without good pay, that is wore me down and actually made me hate the theatre. After I left my last theatre job, I didn’t go see a show for over a year. Now I love going to the theatre — I needed to make my money some place else so I could actually fall in love with my passion again.

I’m not in any way suggesting that you run out and make lots of money doing something you hate because your passions won’t pay you well. Not at all. What I am saying is that making money doing what you love can seem like nirvana from a far and be less than satisfying up close. I also believe that making money doing what we love can be an incremental process, and progress in increments is more than fine. Every journey really is made by putting one foot in front of the other, however long that journey may take.

This blog is part of the 2011 WordPress Post Every Day Challenge.

care, courage, dreams, education, inspiration, integrity, story

Further Thoughts on MLK Day

Christa Avampato

This post is available as a podcast on Cinch and iTunes.

“Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter.” ~ MLK via CharlesMBlow

Charles M. Blow is The New York Times’s visual Op-Ed columnist. His column appears every Saturday.

“Dr. King delivered the “I have a dream” speech at age 34 and lived only 39 years.” ~ via Drew Allen

I read these two tweets on Monday morning with so much gratitude and then so much awe for the person Dr. King was and the person that he asked all of us to be. He was the age I am now when he delivered the I Have a Dream speech and his life was cut far too short only 5 years later. Those two pieces of information weigh heavy on my heart, particularly when I consider how far we still have to go to create a more peaceful society where everyone, regardless of race, creed, gender, personal economics, or upbringing, can advance through hard work and determination.

Coincidentally I am now reading Condoleezza Rice’s book, Extraordinary, Ordinary People, which reminds me of how much hope we have in our society. While I don’t agree with her politics, the inspiration of her story can’t be denied. She grew up in pre-Civil Rights Birmingham and rose to be one of the most influential people in the world because of her hard-won education. She has a quote in the book that hit me like a ton of bricks because of the courage and passion it coveys. She says of her parents, “Somehow they raised their little girl in Jim Crow Birmingham to believe that even if she couldn’t have a hamburger at the Woolworth’s lunch counter, she could be President of the United States.”

I understand her fervent belief in education. I grew up in a family that didn’t have a lot of money but believed in education. I studied hard, worked hard, and pushed myself, sometimes far beyond my limits, because even at an early age I knew that my education would improve the quality of my life in the long run. That bet, that long, sometimes-difficult-to-believe-in bet, paid off. My education, and the will it took to get it, are two things that I am incredibly grateful for every day. I live a really good life as a result of my education. I like to share that story, particularly with children, through my volunteer work. It gives them some hope to meet a real life person who understands where they are and where they can get to by working hard.

In the spirit of Dr. King, we need to share our stories through every channel we’ve got. We must continue to talk about what’s important to us and what matters. And we must do so without ever really knowing how or when or why it will affect someone else. Martin Luther King Day reminds us why it is so important to speak our minds and then live accordingly – because it makes a difference.

This blog is part of the 2011 WordPress Post Every Day Challenge.

change, choices, decision-making

The Power of “No” In A Pursuit of Focus

Christa Avampato

This post is available as a podcast on Cinch and on iTunes.

“No” is a difficult word for me. Whenever I see a worthy cause, an interesting project, or a place that I can do some good, I want to take up the task. The trouble with that tendency (and maybe addiction?) is that I end up fragmenting my time and running from the time I wake up to the time I get home. Yoga and meditation have helped. My writing has helped. Lasting focus takes something more, and shares something with every other meaningful change we seek to make – a real desire to live differently and the ability to say no to distractions that don’t serve the goal.

I get some energy, and some of my self-esteem, from being able to manage it all. I take pride in my organization and efficiency. It gives me a rush. Having that rush is fun for a bit, though after a while it does grate on me. I get worn down and frustrated, and the fault is mine. I’ve been calling myself a recovering multi-tasker, and like all recoverees, I have to manage my impulse to do too many things as once without doing real justice to any of them.

I went on a date on Saturday. Nice guy, but not the right guy for me. He said something that has stuck with me for a few days. When I told him about my job, my yoga, and my writing, he simply just said, “Wow. You’re busy.” And it wasn’t in a mean, nor an admiring, way. It was just a fact. On the way to the train, I thought, “Wow. I’m too busy to meet someone.” Even if this guy had been the right guy for me, I don’t have enough time to get to know him. I’ve painted every little corner of my time with too many commitments, without leaving enough space for spontaneity or even just to relax and unwind.

After so many years chugging down this path, I’m hopping off of the too-many-obligations train. I’m going to really start this journey of building in free time, truly free time, to my life. I’m going to work on my yoga and my writing, and with the rest of the time I’m having fun. I’m going to make more time for the people (and the dog!) in my life, and for me. I’m going to begin to be free more often.

The image above was created my Shorewalker and is available here.

This blog is part of the 2011 WordPress Post Every Day Challenge.

health, hospital, yoga

Teaching Yoga in Geriatric Psych at New York Methodist Hospital

Christa Avampato

This post is available as a podcast on Cinch and iTunes.

“The years teach much which the days never knew.” ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

Last week, I went to New York Methodist Hospital to meet with the Recreational Therapist in the Geriatric Psych Department. She was interested in having a yoga instructor come into the department to do chair yoga with the patients that have the mobility to exercise. The Department is an acute care facility, meaning that patients are there following some incident that requires close monitoring by a medical staff. Their average length of stay is 3 weeks, and many of the patients are in their 70s and 80s.

I had my first class today with a small group of patients. “We don’t allow children here,” said Wesley*. In the next breath be threatened to kill me (in words only – he is physically harmless and apparently says that to everyone). He read the paper cover to cover every day of his life. Now he can no longer read (that is one of the saddest parts of dementia to me) though still insists on leafing through the paper and cutting out pictures that interest him. Another patient, Lola, told me she is 4 months pregnant and going home tomorrow. Minnie, the most coherent of the group, rolled her eyes at every comment made by the other patients. There was something both sweet and sad about the class.

My emotions on the train back to Manhattan were complex and jumbled. I’m fascinated by how the brain functions (or malfunctions), and supremely interested in how yoga, meditation, and breath work can alter the brain’s long-term health. “Where did they do?” I kept asking myself. Why can’t Wesley read any more? Why does this beautiful, blessed machine of a brain have to unravel?

If I could find a way to use yoga to help a mind stay calm and balanced and among us just a little while longer, then I would consider myself so lucky to have done work worth doing.

* All names have been changed to protect the patients’ confidentiality.