Category: adventure

adventure, books, change, yoga

Step 126: Reflection on The Bhagavad Gita

Christa Avampato

“As a man adorns worn-out clothes and acquires new ones, so when the body is worn out a new one is acquired by the Self, who lives within.” ~ 2:22, The Bhagavad Gita

“The awakened sages call a person wise when all his undertakings are free from anxiety about results; all his selfish desires have been consumed in the fire of knowledge. The wise…have abandoned all external supports.” ~ 3:19, The Bhagavad Gita

For my yoga teacher training class, we needed to read The Bhagavad Gita, the most famous poem in Hindu literature. It was powerful read for me. While many of our readings in the class focus on calm and steadiness, The Bhagavad Gita is a guide to action, authentic action.

On Labor Day weekend in 2009, my apartment building caught fire. I was almost trapped inside and only by following my intuition was I able to get out in time. Most of my belongings were lost to extensive smoke damage. September 5, 2009 was a kind of death date for me; a date when stripped of almost all my material possessions (my “worn-out clothes”), I realized that none of it mattered at all. I stood outside in a t-shirt, shorts, and flip-flops, holding nothing but my keys (which were now useless), watching my apartment building burn. Looking back, I think of that day as a day when I stepped out of my old, worn-out Self, and into a new frame. I still don’t know what the art inside this new frame will look like just yet. I’m a work-in-progress.

Verse 2:22 in The Bhagavad Gita resonated with me, as does that image of Shiva the Destroyer dancing in a ring of fire. Sometimes we get in the way of our own personal development. We get bogged down with belongings, material and emotional. We need not stand on a burning platform, literally nor figuratively, to recognize that change is needed. Yoga can be the practice that helps us recognize our truth, our purpose, our dharma.

Verse 3:19 speaks directly to the danger that surfaces when we get lost in the demands of our society, demands that others put upon us that do not align with our own personal truths. After my fire and after studying these simple words laid down in The Bhagavad Gita, I’ve come to believe that being “results-oriented” and “goal-driven” cause us to miss so much of life. To be shooting for the result, while remaining blind to each step leading to that result, denies us the beauty of practicing the yama asteya, nonstealing. Yes, where we’re going is important, and it is equally, if not more important, to be mindful of how we’re getting there. If we miss the journey, we deny ourselves the wonder and joy of the act of discovery.

Bearing this sentiment in mind, I read The Bhagavad Gita as if it were a map, laying out a method of living whose goal is boundless freedom. And from that freedom all good things come – kindness toward others because we no longer see them as competitors but partners; justice because we recognize in realizing our own freedom that all people everywhere have the right to be free; peace because all we’re really fighting for is our own self-discovery which doesn’t involve any type of harm to another being.

Several years ago, I read a book called Women Who Run with the Wolves. Although the actual words and anecdotes are different, the message is the same as the one delivered to us by The Bhagavad Gita around the question “How do we acquire freedom and mastery of the mind?” The answer in Women Who Run with the Wolves: “crawl through the window of a dream.” The window may be small. Undoubtedly, we will have to leave things behind in order to continue our journey through it. We may wonder why on earth we have to struggle so much, why we should even try at all when the big room full of our belongings that we currently live in is really just fine.

No matter how much we love our current room, that window will not be ignored. It will continue to stare at us until we take up the challenge of crossing over. Through that tiny little frame, lies Samadhi, enlightenment. The only thing stopping us from getting there is our courage, our own belief in our abilities to make the journey at all. Arjuna struggled with this same quest, just as we struggle with it. We’re all in this together, across the globe, across the centuries. The struggle does not change; we have to change. The only way forward is through.

The image above is not my own. It can be found here.

adventure, business, entrepreneurship, fear, feelings, yoga

Step 113: F.E.A.R.

Christa Avampato

“F.E.A.R. – false evidence appearing real.” ~ Tracy, my yoga teacher

Whenever I have class with my yoga teacher, Tracy, I keep my pen close by. She always has pearls of wisdom that she carefully places before us as an offering, wisdom that has been passed down to her from her own practice and meditation and her teachers. Last night she laid the quote above before us and asked us to consider why we would hold any fear at all give this acronym. I couldn’t think of any good reasons.

It’s all too easy to fall into the trap of letting our thoughts get the best of us. Certainly they should make us considerate of our actions, though we can’t allow them to prevent us from finding our true way. Lately I’ve been feeling my way toward my path with a little more spring in my step than usual. I’m growing increasingly aware that my life’s work, that elusive things I’ve been rummaging around for, is just around the corner, and so every day I wake up with the feeling that today might be the day when all these pieces that seem to be heading toward one another finally coalesce so beautifully that I wonder why I didn’t see their connection all along.

Every once in a while I catch myself believing in my false evidence appearing positive: “There are lots of yoga teachers in this city, all over the world. What will you do that’s so different?” or “There are people who are professionally trained industrial designers who develop products. How can you produce something as elegant as their work?” During my 18 minutes of meditation a day, my mind’s eye recognizes these F.E.A.R.s, acknowledges them, and then politely moves on. This doesn’t mean they go away completely; I certainly have moments of self-doubt. Can I really make a go of my own business? Can I really offer up something special and unique? And the answer I keep hearing, “well what else are you going to do with your time here if not create something special and unique.” Prana has a sense of humor. And it’s blunt. It’s got no time for messing around.

So I’ve started cranking along, planting lots and lots of seeds in all of this rich soil in my life. Every once in a while an early shoot sprouts up, I go over and water it, and despite my best efforts it just doesn’t root down properly. That’s okay. I thank it for making an appearance, showing me a way, knowing that its possibility put me one step closer to finding my way.

False evidence is all around us, and its a very good actor. But if we take the time to really sift through, to really match up the opportunities we find with what we truly want, it’s easy to detect which options are distractions and which ones we really need to cultivate. The next little adventure I’ll be cultivating is a trip to Santorini, Greece for a yoga retreat and teacher training with Shiva Rea. I have been looking for a retreat for some time now that really offer a nice combo of downtime and practice, in a place I’ve never been, with a teacher I really respect and admire. It just happened to work out that the week Shiva’s going is the perfect time for me to take a vacation, the price is perfect, and the theme “radical relaxation” is just what my curious soul needs. Synchronicity: a sure sign that I’m going exactly where I need to be. F.E.A.R.s be gone…

The image above is not my own. It depicts the sunset in Santorini, Greece, hopefully similar to the ones I’ll be seeing very soon. It can be found here.

adventure, discovery, dreams

Step 74: Canyons Opening

Christa Avampato

Since hearing about Columbia last week, I have been getting so many supportive emails, phones calls, texts, and comments. They mean the world to me and reaffirm my initial feeling that my path lay in another direction. My friend, Blair, wrote me a particularly beautiful note that I am going to take out every time I feel sad. Her message was, “I hope this clears out the year for you and opens gates and canyons, mountains and oceans to explore as you enter a new year.” My friend, Laura, sent me a similar message about 30 seconds after my blog post went up. My mom and sister followed quickly thereafter. Several people posted incredible comments to this blog that made me smile wide. You see why I adore them?

I can already tell that the canyons are opening, that the path is clearing. I felt it all weekend in yoga training. I’m even experiencing it as I’m sleeping. It’s as if I was released to dream a little differently, more freely, than I was dreaming before. It was like breaking through a cloud cover to find that sunnier skies laid in wait for me to arrive. My friend, Lon, didn’t offer me any advice or guidance. He just said “I can’t wait to hear what’s next.” That one simple statement made my answer, “I don’t know”, a reason to rejoice, rather than a reason to be afraid or sad or disappointed. He isn’t trying to tell me what I should do next; he’s just saying that no matter what’s next, his support will be there. And now you see why I adore him, too.

The thought that keeps crossing my mind is that the canyons are always open, the gates of the life we imagine are always swinging wide, welcoming us in. What makes the difference is whether or not we choose to see them, whether or not we have the courage to walk through. Life doesn’t go according to plan most of the time; sometimes the life we get is very different from the one we bargained for. And we have to remain flexible and open to possibilities, even if those possibilities were things we never imagined would happen.

When I got home last night, I read my horoscope from my local paper, and it seems that even the stars are echoing the exact words of encouragement that I’m getting from my beautiful friends, family, and blogging pals. “Trust that you feel a certain energetic relief, relaxation, and the growing sense not that you have enough, but that you are enough…it is fair to say that everything is about to change – in ways you would have wished for, if you could have ever predicted what was possible.” Now that’s a reason to jump out of bed in the morning. Open canyons, here I come! 1, 2, 3, leap!

The image above is not my own. It can be found here.

adventure, creativity

Step 68: Ways of Making Patterns

Christa Avampato

“Take your needle, my child, and work out your pattern. It will come out a rose by and by. Life is like that.” ~ Oliver Wendell Holmes

My friend, Lon, sent me this quote today after reading my post from yesterday about making patterns instead of plans. It should be noted publicly that Lon is one of the people in my life who cheers me on no matter what and that I reciprocate that support. When I start a new project, when I end a project, when I’m just going about my life, Lon sends me positive messages that keep me going. This quote today was one of many that Lon has sent me over the time we’ve been friends, and I thought about it all day today.

While it’s easy to tell people “go make a plan”, “go make a pattern”, it helps to have some direction on how to do these things. I’m really great at making plans, though as I said yesterday, my life never follows them. My life unfolds in patterns. While I try to remain as open as possible to the universe presenting me with opportunities, I do seek out certain types of opportunities. Which begs the question, “how do I decide to find certain opportunities or patterns?” What gets me going in the directions I’m going in?

If you’re looking to create positive patterns in your life, I hope the following ideas help to get you started:

1.) As much as I may love a certain path I’m on, I’m never afraid to do an about-face and try something completely new.
2.) I got over the “I don’t think I can do that” dilemma a long time ago. Barring brain surgery, I don’t think there’s much I can’t do if I really put my mind to it.
3.) I’m a pretty relentless person in every sense. If I really want to go somewhere, try something, achieve something, it’s going to be tough to dissuade me. Developing positive patterns takes persistence. Don’t give up.
4.) I believe in the process of continuous improvement. (Somewhere my business school teachers are smiling wide at this statement.) As a child, I was obsessed with perfection until I’d been disappointed so many times that I realized perfection is rarely if ever attainable. And thank goodness! If perfection were consistently possible, think of all the fantastic, imperfect experiences we’d miss out on. My yoga teacher, Lauren, explained to us that our yoga would never be perfect – no one’s is – so we don’t have to worry. Learning is a life-long process so take your time and enjoy it, knowing that no matter how much we learn, there will always be more.
5.) Biographies and autobiographies help. A lot. I read them all the time. And from them I take little bits of learning from the lives of others, and follow the examples that I admire the most.

So go ahead and take up the needle, as Oliver Wendell Holmes counsels us to do. You cannot fail. This is your life, your pattern, to create. Just keep at it. You’ll be surprised what a beautiful masterpiece you can weave. And my deepest thanks to my pal, Lon, for just being marvelously you, because you inspire me to be me.

adventure, family, holiday, travel

My Year of Hopefulness – Journeys We Don’t Plan

Christa Avampato

I recently saw the movie, Up!, an animated feature about Mr. Fredrickson, a grumpy old man remarkably similar in appearance and demeanor to Mr. Cunningham from Happy Days. All their lives, he and his wife dreamed of an adventure to South America, and she passed away before they had the chance to go. Wanting to fulfill the dream to honor her, he uses the asset of being a balloon salesman to sail south of the border, house in tow. That’s the adventure he planned.

He didn’t count on one of his neighbors being on the deck of his house when it took off. He didn’t think that he’d ever meet a rare bird named Kevin who would need his help so desperately or his greatest idol who would turn out to lack integrity. This was the part of the adventure he never imagined. Along the way, he lets goes of old heartaches and material possessions, makes new friends, and discovers how much courage his old soul can muster. These are the parts of the adventure that make his trip unforgettable.

My Christmas trip was a bit like Mr. Fredrickson’s. I had planned to stay home to study and write for the week between Christmas and the New Year; I hadn’t planned on going to Alabama at all. The opportunity presented itself, and I took it. On the banks of the Tennessee River in a small town named Tuscumbia, I learned how the term “Southern hospitality” came to be.

My brother-in-law’s family welcomed me with open arms, literally. His mom, Trish, had an extra chair at the table, an extra room where I could sleep and study, and extra gifts under the tree just for me. She taught me to make chicken and dressing, proved that any food can be whipped into a delicious casserole, and exhibited all of the love and graciousness that you’d expect from a woman whose greatest joy is her family. I learned about their complex family history, and was included in their family photos. In truth, an outsider looking in might never know that I was a guest who’d never spent a Christmas with that family. They took every opportunity to make me one of them.

Having grown up in small town, I appreciate the warm, cozy feeling of having memories in every nook and cranny. Kyle, my brother-in-law, showed me where he went to high school, where all his childhood friends lived and hung out as teenagers, and where his dad’s artwork (and therefore his spirit) still exists even though he’s no longer with us. I saw their old family photos and then understood the resemblance my niece, Lorelei, has to that side of the family. So much of their history and culture exists in their food and the memories of togetherness that their meals invoke, and I got to be a part of it. It was easy to see why Tuscumbia is a special kind of place.

On the long drive back to Florida, I thought of Kyle’s family a lot: how lucky I feel to have met them all and how much I appreciated being able to spend a holiday with them. I’ve always found that the experiences I love most in my life are the ones I don’t plan for – the job that came my way quite by accident, the friend I never planned to meet, the spur-of-the-moment trip that I never imagined I’d take. My trip to Alabama showed me how much joy we can find in the unexpected and unplanned, and I’d like to figure out how to make that kind of joy and the circumstances that create it a little more common in my life in 2010.

adventure, change

My Year of Hopefulness – Thankful for the Unknown

Christa Avampato

“Do not stop thinking of life as an adventure. You have no security unless you can live bravely, excitingly, imaginatively, unless you can choose a challenge instead of a competence.” ~ Eleanor Roosevelt


An opinion article was published in the New York Times on Thanksgiving that gave thanks for the unknown. It struck me so profoundly because of all the surprise that entered my life this year. Through it all, I never stopped believing that something good would come from it all, that I’d be able to raise my head up eventually, shake off the sadness, and rejoin the human race as a more empathic, compassionate person. What I didn’t expect is that I would emerge so brazenly fearless, that I would myself feeling more secure once everything extraneous was stripped away.


The great joy of living through something that we imagine we cannot live through is that we become unable to tolerate the act of wasting time. Tragedy makes our vision crystal clear; it helps us to see things with a sharp focus that we never had before. I sometimes wish that we could obtain this kind of clarity without having to live through tragedy. One of my business school professors talked to us about the sad necessity of the “burning platform” that inspires change. I wish my platform, my home, didn’t have to literally catch fire, bringing a whole new meaning to the term “burning platform”. It certainly did inspire me to change my life in profound and daring ways. I’ve been putting off a PhD program for over a year; I’ve been settling in my career and my relationships; material possessions were beginning to wield too much importance in my life. I needed a shake-up, a change, and I got it in spades. Now I’m studying for the GRE, pumping up my efforts on the relationships in my life that are truly valuable to me, and embracing a lifestyle that places far less value on material valuables.


The unknown is a scary, precious thing. The holidays are a great marker for us, a time of reflection to consider exactly what we want our lives to be about. This is an opportunity for us to be with friends and family and truly consider Eleanor Roosevelt’s great question: are we challenging ourselves or resting on our competencies? Are we stepping up to meet the world or taking a comfortable seat and just watching the world go by? As we take a bit of time to relax this holiday season, it’s my great hope that we will seriously re-consider our priorities and how we spend our time and effort so that we do as much good in 2010 as we possibly can. There is no time like the present to take up a new adventure.

adventure, apple, New York City, technology, writing

My Year of Hopefulness – Programming and the Mind

Christa Avampato

I seem to be receiving a “critical update” from Apple everyday on software that’s installed on my computer. I’m not really sure what any of the fixes are or why I need them, but I trust Apple. If they say I need them, then I assume that I do. So I click the little button that says “install now” or something to that effect. I go about my business while Apple magically repairs all of my software problems in the background. I’m an efficiency junkie so I’m a big fan of parallel-pathing.

Writing works a lot like those critical updates from Apple. Friends, family, and co-workers always ask me, “when do you find the time to do all of this writing?” Truthfully, I’m always writing. Sorry – this is my confession. My writing mind is always working in the background while I go about the rest of my life. When I’m having dinner with friends, at movies, at CVS buying shampoo, at work, I’m writing, tucking away little bits and pieces to use later. I’m one of those hopelessly nerdy people who always has a pen and piece of paper in my bag. Even when I’m heading to a big night out. You just never know when something interesting will happen. And I can’t be held responsible for keeping it all stuffed in my brain. I need that pen and paper.

I also purposely try to put myself in interesting situations. I seek out new people, go to lectures, book readings, and art exhibitions all the time. It’s one reason I am so in love with New York, and fall more in love with it everyday – there’s always something new to see, do, and try. New York and I have had a long and sordid history together. 11 years running. At times, we’ve been blissfully happy to be with one another and at other times, we’ve each gone running for the hills. But we always somehow end up back together, New York and I. This is my third time moving here, and I imagine you’ll find me here for a very long time to come. There’s just too much going on here for me to be away for that long. My writing lives and breathes here.

I’ve been wondering how Apple knows what to fix and how to fix it in these updates. My only idea is that it goes out into the world and takes stock of the latest software landscape to make needed improvements. I do the same thing in my writing. In the past year, I’ve been sending myself out on little writing adventures in New York. Odd-ball museums, sitting in a crowded area and eaves-dropping, going to parts of town I never frequent without a map and getting as lost as possible. On Saturday, I’ll be heading to the Demolition Depot on 125th Street. It contains 4 floors and a garden full of architecture pieces from every conceivable period. When buildings are dismantled all over New York City, most of the pieces end up at the Demolition Depot.

Can you imagine what crazy things that place stores? While I’m sure there’s a fair amount of mundane items like antique faucets, I’m equally sure that there are valuable items that will inspire my writing. A fireplace that I’ll imagine someone sitting before, a gargoyle who faithfully watched over a busy street for many years, a mirror where a young girl watched herself become a woman. You see – inspiration is everywhere; you just need to keep looking, especially in unlikely places.

My fingers are getting itchy. Just writing about writing is giving me some ideas. This writing mind of mine is working in the background and it’s almost time for me to reboot to see all of the changes that have occurred in the past few minutes. In the time it’s taken me to write this post, some more dots have connected, and I have to make sure to get this all down before it’s hopelessly lost in the abyss. I’d like to think I’m a recovering multi-tasker, though as with most addictions, I guess I’ll always be in a constant state of recovery, never quite cured of my desire to do multiple things at once. Thank goodness for background processing!

adventure, change, grateful, gratitude, happiness, New York City, travel

My Year of Hopefulness – A Real New Yorker

Christa Avampato

Yesterday I was running errands after work, collecting a few more odds and ends to organize my apartment. I had forgotten that when you go from a place with storage to a place with hardly any storage, you actually have to buy things to put your things in. 2 hours later at the Container Store…

It was hot and sticky and raining on and off. My bags were heavy and I was worn out from a long, tiring week. I was trudging along, past The Plaza, past Central Park South, toward the Time Warner Building, lost in my own personal fog. At the corner, I was waiting for the light to change so I could get down underground to the unbearably hot subway that would get me home with all my things to put my things in. I’m sure my face was a little crinkled. I’m positive I was sighing out loud.

Two guys, clearly visiting NYC, were in a Scooby-Doo style van, hanging out the windows and snapping pictures like mad. I must remember to start carrying my camera everywhere to capture moments like that. These guys were grinning from ear to ear, in awe of what they were seeing, what they were right in the middle of. They made me smile, too. One of them saw me, and asked “are you a real New Yorker?” and then snapped my picture, as if I was a rare species that they needed to capture on film to show their friends back home.

“I am a real New Yorker,” I replied. “Cool,” he said. And that made me smile even wider. Here I was sighing about how tired and worn out I was, and here are these guys, invigorated by the exact same environment.

I didn’t cross the street just yet. I sat down in one of the cafe chairs that sit at the corner of Central Park South and Columbus Circle. I took a big, deep breathe and looked around me. How lucky am I to be a New Yorker, to live in this insane, magical, always evolving place every day? I put down my load o’ bags to rest a while, to take in the glory and chaos and be grateful for the opportunity to be here in this moment.

I wish I had asked for the contact info of those Scooby-Doo van guys. I’d like to thank them for helping me fall in love with my city, again. When I picked up my bags to head home, somehow they felt lighter.

The photo above depicts Columbus Circle, New York City and can be found here.

adventure, art, journey

Traveling like Paulo Coelho

Christa Avampato

I’m hoping that the breezy days of summer have finally arrived. Though I don’t like the heat, the summer does bring with it a sense of dreaming and imaging our lives in new places. In many ways, it’s more of a renewal than spring – graduations, weddings, vacations. I find that a lot of my happiest memories happened during this season, and many of them happened when I traveled on my own.

Paulo Coelho wrote one of my favorite books, The Alchemist, and I love its celebration of the journey. Coelho seems to prize travel as the most valuable way to spend our time. It’s the best way to learn, about ourselves and the world around us. In addition to his many books on the subject, he now writes several blogs: WordPress (http://paulocoelhoblog.com), Myspace (http://www.myspace.com/paulocoelho) & Facebook (http://www.facebook.com/pages/Paulo-Coelho/11777366210). He is equally present in media sharing sites such as Youtube (http://www.youtube.com/profile?user=paulabraconnot) and Flickr (http://www.flickr.com/photos/paulo_coelho/sets). He shares his thoughts with us, as well as his images.

On Amazon.com, he wrote recently wrote a post with some travel advice, giving us an idea of how he conducts the details of his travels. He avoids museums and hangs out in bars. He doesn’t buy material things, and he invests in the people around him, knowing that he understands them and they understand him, just by virtue of being human. In his quintessential Coelho style, he remains open to the magic that happens when we travel, when we get outside any sense of a comfort zone, and just allow life to happen. More than good advice about how to travel, he provides us with good advice on how to live.

adventure, career, creative process, creativity, job, technology, youth

Is experience everything?

Christa Avampato
I have been thinking about experience on a regular basis lately. I notice that every time someone mentions wanting to do something new be it a hobby, a job function, or even related to travel or choosing a new city, one of the first questions people ask them is, “Do you have any experience with that?” or “Have you ever been there or done that before?” 
I got asked this question all the time about a year ago as I was interviewing for jobs post-MBA. It seemed that experience counted for far more than my education or my interests. I actually went to one interview in which an interviewer asked me what the hell I was doing there because I had never worked in the industry the the company was in. When I mentioned that the company, in desperate need of a turnaround, needed fresh eyes to look at old problems to find new solutions, the interviewer looked at me as if I had begun speaking in an unknown language. 
And in a manner of speaking, I guess it was a new language – the language of youth and energy and passion, three things the interviewer did not possess. And I don’t mean youth in terms of age, but rather in terms of attitude and thinking. The interviewer refused to believe that any problem could be solved using new methods. It was very much an “I’ve been there, done that” kind of deal. And then I considered the incredible success of Silicon Valley – it is an industry that was largely built by people who had no experience in the areas they were trying to master. They couldn’t have experience because they, and the world for that matter, were venturing into unknown territory. It was a great blessing that no one had the ability to say, “Well, when I was at X company, we did it this way.” With that attitude, we may have never been able to witness the www as we know it. 
I mentioned this concern about “old thinking” to my friend, Dan, recently, and he said that this may very much be a function of just getting older and more experienced. And that got me thinking, and then it got me worried. Am I destined to become one of those people who believes she has seen it all before, someone who will eventually discard the energy and fascination with newness that so many young people have?
No. I’ve decided that I just won’t be that way. I can’t be that way, for the sake of my own success if nothing else. So I keep challenging myself to go places and do things that I’ve never done before. I do things that scare me. Things that I believe are beyond the scope of my ability. And this is critical to retaining youth – because even if I fail at these new ventures, at least it will remind me that I don’t everything about anything. It will remind that there is always, always something new to learn.