Category: books

books, business, change, dreams, entrepreneurship, money

My Year of Hopefulness – Unquestioned Answers

Christa Avampato

While in Costa Rica, I continued reading Lynne Twist’s book The Soul of Money. So many of her sentiments about the use of money, sufficiency, and abundance have resonated with me. At the end of one particular chapter she challenges readers to explore not unanswered questions, but unquestioned answers. I have not been able to get this term out of my head. I spent a long night in Costa Rica, tossing and turning, wrestling with the unquestioned answers in my own professional life.

Since going to business school, I have been on a track – to pay back my loans, to believe that I must make a certain amount of money in my single paycheck, to climb, climb, climb as high as I can in the field of business. We hear so often that there are not enough women at the very top of business world, that people from my socioeconomic background are under-represented and needed in large corporations, as are those who embrace empathy and innovation and change. Up until now, I assumed that these sentiments were a given, answers to timeless questions and concerns in business, and that I must heed this call.

With this latest economic downturn, these very things that I have held to be true without question are now up for scrutiny. Everything is up for debate. I went to an innovation conference several weeks ago, hosted by Roger Martin of the Rotman School of Business. My former boss, Bob, invited me because he knows of my deep interest in change and design. Tim Brown, the CEO of IDEO and one of the panelists at the conference, discussed the dilemma of big business today as it relates to change. IDEO runs workshops throughout the year that are training sessions for business people to encourage more creativity within their companies. They are wildly popular events, and there’s only one problem with them. “Once people open up their minds to the world of design,” Brown said, “they can never go back. Many times, attendees of our workshops leave their jobs shortly after they complete the sessions. They can’t accept a life in typical big corporations anymore. They know better.”

Big corporations have been trying so hard to make innovation and change a part of the culture, or at least trying hard to pay lip-service to change. The difficulty is that only a handful of corporations really believe in the power and necessity of change. Target, Apple, Nike are among the few. By and large most big corporations just want to return to the good old days of fat profits, zero regulation, and big, big bonuses. Those individuals who really want change, innovation, and design to be incorporated into the fabric of a company get too frustrated with bureaucracy and the slow, lumbering gait of a company strangled by its own size. And so, they leave for smaller, more nimble, freer pastures. Who could blame them?

These are the brave souls questioning the answers that business has for so long assumed to be universal truths. Now, the truth is not quite so clear as it once was. The people who have long-benefited from business as usual (so much so that BAU has become a common acronym in their lexicon) are getting very nervous because their lifestyle is being threatened by those asking why, those who are questioning the ‘given’ answers.

For those brave enough to ask why, their dilemma now lies not in how to get their ideas heard by the ones who phone it in, but whether or not it’s even worth it to ask why at all. Many are leaving to build their own dreams, to bet on themselves rather than on a big corporation. The world of business should be afraid. To survive in this new economy, corporations need the questioners much more than the questioners need the big corporations.

I laid in my bed, realizing that these questioners are the next great breed of entrepreneurs, the next batch of people who are on the verge of jumping from the safe, secure cliff and changing the world as we know it. And then I asked myself the question, “Will I be brave enough to count myself among them?” I waited long into the night for an answer to come from the darkness, and with the sun my own heart rose up to speak a quiet, strong, clear “yes”.

books, child, education, Sesame Street

My Year of Hopefulness – Sesame Street Celebrates 40 Years

Christa Avampato

I love Sesame Street. When my 2 year old niece was here visiting a few months ago, I discovered that I can get Sesame Street on demand through my cable company. This is exciting news. I love children’s television almost as much as I love children’s literature. Call me juvenile and immature. I love those furry, colorful monsters. They’re old friends. For most of my childhood we had a small black and white TV and I distinctly remember sitting in front of it with my sister, Weez, and singing along, learning Spanish, my numbers, colors, and the alphabet.

I didn’t realize that Sesame Street was also teaching me other pertinent information that would shape my life going forward. Sesame Street taught me about caring for my community and neighbors. I learned about friendship, and sharing, and communicating honestly and fairly. The mix of cultures on Sesame Street taught me tolerance and acceptance and the great celebration that we should hold for diversity.

Sesame Street started as a pilot project, a result of the passion and concern for children and education by a small group of people in New York City. The narrative around the start of the program and its growth is every bit as compelling, if not more so, than the content of the show itself. A few months ago, I wrote a couple posts on this blog that were inspired by Street Gang: The Complete History of Sesame Street. Weez bought it for me for my birthday and I read it cover to cover, taking delight in every word. My posts talked about a life lived in 3 acts and the need to prepare to be lucky. They are good reminders of the subliminal messages that are so important for children to receive early on in life.

So today, we celebrate the milestone of 40 years for this incredible program. It has without question improved the lives of millions of children around the world. At Sesame headquarters at One Lincoln Plaza I hope they are raising glasses high tonight in honor of a big yellow bird, a green trash can inhabitant, a blue cookie lover, a pair of friends obsessed with oatmeal and rubber duckies, a purple count who loves numbers, a red lovable three year old and his goldfish, Dorothy, and the many others who are the first friends that so many of us have come to know and love. Our lives are so much richer for having known them and learned from them. Happy birthday, Sesame Street!

books, child, education, literature, school, volunteer, writing

My Year of Hopefulness – Charlotte’s Web

Christa Avampato

I’m reading Charlotte’s Web with my new book buddy, Dwight. Dwight is a 3rd grader who lives in Queens. We got connected through an organization called Learning Leaders. Based in New York City, the provide supplementary educational programs to kids in public schools. Their book buddy program matches up adult volunteers with elementary school students. We read a book together, and write three letters back and forth as we work our way through the story.

As a kid, I loved to read. My house was filled with literally thousands of books, much to the detriment of any semblance of tidiness. While I didn’t love being in a cluttered home, I loved being surrounded by books in every room. Now I recognize that most kids aren’t as lucky as I was to learn to love reading at such a young age. The book buddy program and Dwight are one small way that I hope to turn that around for a kid.

I forgot how much I love Charlotte’s Web. I forgot how scared Wilbur was and how concerned he was with being lonely and making new friends. Children’s literature introduces some heavy themes, despite its light-hearted exterior. Reading this book has made me fall in love with the genre all over again, and encouraged me to continue writing for this age group.

I’ll post up my letters to Dwight and his letters to me on this blog as we continue through. I’m excited to read what he has to say. I’ll meet him in person in February when we all get together for a celebration lunch. Apparently, the kids always think the adults they are writing to are total rock stars – a shot in the arm we could all use!

“Dear Dwight,
I’m really happy to be reading Charlotte’s Web with you and writing letters to each other as we work through the book. This was one of my favorite books when I was in school, and I’m looking forward to re-reading it. I really enjoy reading and I write, too. I always find inspiration for my own writing by reading other books.

I grew up in a very small town about two hours north of Manhattan, along the Hudson River. We had a farm where we grew apples and every fall we would invite people to come pick apples from our property. We didn’t have as many farm animals as there are in Charlotte’s Web, though my sister, Maria, and I spent a lot of time in the woods around our house watching for deer, turkeys, and foxes. We also had a very large pond that had frogs, turtles, and fish.

Our family has always had pets so my love of animals goes back as far as I can remember. We had a lot of dogs, a few cats, an aquarium, and a rabbit, too. My work is very busy now so I don’t have time for a pet at the moment. I hope I can have a pet of my own someday soon.

One part of Charlotte’s Web that I forgotten was how much Wilbur wanted to make new friends in his new home. I have experienced that many times, too. I went to elementary school, middle school, and high school with all of my same friends. When I went to college and then to graduate school, I didn’t know anyone so I had to make all new friends. At first that experience was scary, though the more often I had to make new friends, the easier it became. Now meeting new people is one of my favorite things to do.

What’s been your favorite part of the book so far? What kind of plan do you think Charlotte will make to help save her friend, Wilbur? I’m looking forward to your first letter!

Your Book Buddy,
Christa”

books, future, goals, Marcus Buckingham, personality, psychology

My Year of Hopefulness – Your Strongest Life

Christa Avampato

“We don’t see things as they are; we see things as we are.” ~ Anais Nin, French writer and diarist

I’m a huge fan of Marcus Buckingham. If I had to make a short-list of the top 5 people I’m most interested in meeting, he’d be one of them because of his keen insight into human behavior. He knows what makes us tick, all of us, just upon meeting us. He looks at his role in life as a guide on the side who wants to help people reach their full potential happiness and satisfaction. That’s it. Simple, straight-forward, no nonsense, no voodoo, no magic. It takes dedication and hard work to reach our potential. He’s giving us tools to get there. He’s not here to make us feel better about the very bad choices we may have made in the past and our unfortunate habits (and we all have them). He’s here to help us realize and maximize our ability to effect positive change, in ourselves first and then in the world around us.

My friend, Lon, is also a fan and recently sent me a series of articles that Marcus Buckingham has been writing for the Huffington Post on the subject of women’s happiness. We’re in a tough spot: as a gender, half the world’s population, our happiness has been on a steady decline for 40 years. 40 years. That is a very long time to be unhappy. Marcus Buckingham offers up surprising observations and remedies for this trend. It’s important reading for all – men and women alike.

I clicked through the articles and eventually landed on a link to an on-line game that serves as life’s central casting office. Through a short list of questions, Marcus Buckingham shows us the lead role and supporting role that we were born to play, just as we are right now, and that also stretches us by revealing where we should focus our time and energy. It’s fun, insightful, and accurate. I hope you’ll take a couple of minutes to give it a whirl. While it’s geared toward women on the website, it’s equally applicable to men: http://www.wowowow.com/relationships/marcus-buckingham-find-your-strong-life-test-376609

Here’s what mine revealed: best lead role for me – Creator; best supporting role for me – Weaver. Hmmm….what does all of this mean?

Creators:
1.) “Begin by asking: ‘What do I understand?’ You aren’t immune to the feelings and perspectives of others, but your starting point is your own insight, your own understanding.”

Great – now I can stop feeling bad about my natural instinct to look internally first and then externally second!

2.) “Your best quality: Your ability to find patterns invisible to others.”

As a kid, hide-and-seek was my favorite game. I considered being an anthropologist, a paleontologist, an astronaut, and a psychiatrist. All searching professions. At heart, I am a Seeker, Explorer, Finder. I sometimes wonder if I missed my calling as a detective of some sort. I do like to find what’s special and unique in things, places, and people who do not immediately look special upon first glance. My favorite game as a kid was hide-and-seek. I love the idea of underground places, secret passageways, and buried treasure. I love the search. I want to get at what’s underneath the exterior, of people and situations.

3.) “Always: Find time to be by yourself.”

So true – and a goal of mine as of late. I do need some time on my own every day to re-group. I love people, and to make sure I always enjoy their company, I also need my time for me, too.

4.) “Be careful you: Don’t think so long that you never do anything.”

I am the quintessential list maker. I weigh pros and cons and consequences and upsides and downsides and comparison shop. These are important things, and I need to make sure to balance them with enough action. Sometimes, we just have to go for it, even if it seems that the odds are not stacked in our favor!

5.) Your smartest career move: Any job where you’re paid to produce new content.

What my life and writing is all about, and what I think I am just about ready to jump off the cliff and do full-time!

And my ideal supporting role – Weaver. Creator I understand inherently. Weaver? Does this mean I need to get myself a loom? As it turns out, no. Weaver is a synonym for connector. Of course!

Weavers:
1.) “You begin by asking: ‘Who can I connect?’ You see the world as a web of relationships, and you are always excited by the prospect of connecting two new people within your web.”

I love nothing better than linking two people whom I adore to one another when there can be a mutually-beneficial relationship. It’s a puzzle, and I love puzzles.

2.) “Your best quality: Your genuine curiosity.”

My favorite question has always been ‘Why?’ and I’m not shy so I asked it (and still ask it) A LOT. My poor mother. I was the ‘Why’ child in every class, at every moment. Now I’m the ‘Why’ adult. You can’t take the kid out of the classroom…

3.) “Always: Trust in your web of relationships.”

Done – they get me through the tough times and help me celebrate the great abundance in my life. My most valuable asset is my network, and I covet it.

4.) “Be careful you: Don’t push people together who shouldn’t be.”

I’ve had some failures on this front for sure. It’s not just about the experience and interests of people, but their personalities, too, that dictate if a connection is really worth making. I need to be more mindful of that

5.) “Your smartest career move: Any job where you’re paid to speed up the connection between people.”

That would be my obsession with on-line community-building. I love it. If I could, I’d spend every moment of my life working toward this end. Connect, connect, connect. As a kid, my favorite art activity was connect-the-dots. I loved to see what would emerge, how something would develop. It’s still true – my life and relationships are in a constant state of emergence and development.

I’ve printed out my lead role and supporting role descriptions and hung them up at my desk and on my fridge to remind me what’s important, and where and on whom I should spend my time, energy, and talents. Strongest life, here I come!

books, loss, nature, relationships, sadness, writing, yoga

My Year of Hopefulness – Rest and Relaxation

Christa Avampato

“Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that.” ~ Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.

Though it’s just turned to Fall, I’ve found myself drawn to re-reading one of my favorite essays every night this week – Winter by Nina Zolotow. I first saw it in Rodney Yee’s book Yoga: The Poetry of the Body. I understand this essay now more than I ever have in the 7 years since I first read it. I pull it out in times of trouble, in times when I’m feeling sad and worn out and confused about how to move forward. Her conclusion makes me a feel a little better, gives me a bit more license to give myself a much-needed break. I love that the only period is at the end of the essay, and that all of the other sentences and phrases run together in one long, cohesive thought, just like life.

And now here I am at the final day of September, ready to release this month in favor of a happier, sunnier October. And some much needed rest and relaxation. A tired heart and mind can only be rejuvenated by rest and care, not by further trial and challenge. So that’s my goal for the next little while – a simple one, really. To just take care of this heart who has endured so much this month, to surround it with love, to nurture it back to its original state. It has done some heavy lifting this month and earned some well-deserved down time. Just like the fig tree, it will certainly be revived.

Last night, I listened to Professor Michael Sandel’s lectures at justiceharvard.org. They were just what I needed. He spoke about how to value life and the utilitarian philosophy that seeks to maximize pleasure over pain. I was lulled into a relaxed state as he told me about Sophocles and Plato, J.S. Mill, and Jeremy Bentham. And fell into a deep sleep between my comfy sheets made of bamboo fiber and topped by a fluffy duvet. I buried myself into my new bed, cocooning and nurturing my weary body and mind, and didn’t stir until the sun came up. So this is what it feels like to heal.

Winter by Nina Zolotow
“In their garden there was always a wild profusion of tomatoes ripening on the vine, and leafy basil, arugula, and lettuce, and glossy purple eggplants, and red and yellow peppers, and zucchini with its long, bright blossoms, and there was always lunch at the wooden table on hot summer afternoons, with plates of pasta and bread and olives and salads with herbs, and many bottles of red wine that made you feel warm and drowsy, while bees hummed and the sprawling marjoram, thyme, and rosemary gave off their pungent fragrances, and at the end of the meal, always, inexplicably, there were fresh black figs that they picked themselves from the tree at the garden’s center, an eighteen-foot fig tree, for how was it possible – this was not Tuscany but Ithaca – Ithaca, New York, a rough-hewn landscape of deep rocky gorges and bitter icy winters, and I finally had to ask him – my neighbor – how did that beautiful tree live through the year, how did it endure the harshness of a New York winter and not only survive until spring but continue producing the miraculous fruit, year after year, and he told me that it was quite simple, really, that every fall, after the tree lost all its leaves, he would sever the tree’s roots on one side only and, on the tree’s other side, he would dig a trench, and then he would just lay down that flexible trunk and limbs, lay them down in the earth and gently cover them with soil, and there the fig tree would rest, warm and protected, until spring came, when he could remove its protective covering and stand the tree up once again to greet the sun; and now in this long gray season of darkness and cold and grief (do I have to tell you over what? for isn’t it always the same – the loss of a lover, the death of a child, or the incomprehensible cruelty of one human being to another?), as I gaze out of my window at the empty space where the fig tree will stand again next spring, I think, yes, lay me down like that, lay me down like the fig tree that sleeps in the earth, and let my body rest easily on the ground – my roots connecting me to some warm immutable center – luxuriating in the heart of winter.”

The photo above is not my own. It was taken in Centennial Park in Sydney, Australia by Mike Bogle. I can be found here.

books, poverty, social change, social entrepreneurship

My Year of Hopefulness – Muhammad Yunus

Christa Avampato

“I am always optimistic. There is no other way…I am not interested in a person’s past. I care only about their future.” ~ Muhammad Yunus

Many economists tell us that so long as there is capitalism, there will be poverty. So long as there are “haves”, there will be “have nots”. Tonight I went to 92Y to see Muhammad Yunus, Founder of Grameen Bank, Noble Prize winner, and an economist who has stood up to the cynics time and time again. The most remarkable thing about him is not that he blatantly defies his peers, but that he defies them, has proven the fallacies in their beliefs through the outcomes of his own actions, and garners the respect of his detractors.

When I consider what it’s like to live an extraordinary life, Professor Yunus is the first person I think of. His indomitable will, compassion, love, and concern for others is unmatched, particularly in the financial field. He is my hero so it was with great excitement that I sat in the audience at 92Y waiting for him to be interviewed by Matthew Bishop from The Economist. Yunus did not disappoint. From the moment he stepped on stage, he glowed with goodness.
The more he discussed microcredit and entrepreneurship, the happier I became. I could feel his goodness making its way into my own heart. His calm, charming confidence is something to behold and emulate. I could barely take my eyes off of him.
Then a strange thing happened. Professor Yunus began to talk about how to get started, how to begin building a life that truly contributes to the benefit of humanity. “Make a pact from where you are, now, to help 5 people up out of welfare.” He discussed how he didn’t try to tackle the whole country of Bangladesh in his early work. He worked with a handful of people in a very small village. And when that seemed to work, he ignored the nay-sayers, as always, and helped a few more people. And encouraged those he’d helped to help others in the same way. Take tiny, tiny steps to help others, and never, ever give up. “That,” he said, “is the miracle seed.”
It was in that instance, in Professor Yunus’s miracle seed comment, that my heart and mind joined forces and took a decided turn. I could feel a physical, mental, and emotional shift within me. At the conclusion of the talk, I ran home, literally. My friend, Richard, is always encouraging me to write to anyone and everyone who interests me. This advice as served me well in the past, so I got home and cranked up the letter writing machine.
On my way back through Central Park, I composed a letter in my mind to a very wealthy businessman who runs a company that has recently set up a very profitable service. I’ve written to him before, once by name and once anonymously, offering up thanks and suggestions to him, respectively. Today, I asked for his help is using a very, very small portion of the money his service has made to set up a small test of microcredit in New York City, similar to the work that Professor Yunus’s Grameen Bank is doing in Jackson Heights, Queens. When I got home, I typed up the letter, printed it, signed it, and stuck it in an envelope. I ran out to the mailbox on the corner outside of my apartment building, and dropped it in. I had to get it written and out the door before I got too scared to send it. So now I’ll wait and see if a response comes.
It’s an odd thing when we hand over the reigns to our future. When we leave rational thought behind and follow our hearts, it’s amazing what we find, what we can accomplish. Professor Yunus closed the talk by telling a story about Dannon yogurt. He kept pushing them and pushing them to develop a yogurt product, in a special edible container, that would benefit the children of Bangladesh. (Half the children who live in Bangladesh suffer from malnutrition.) “An edible container?” they asked him. “Yes, yes, we must,” demanded Professor Yunus. He thought they’d be angry. Instead they thanked him for pushing the boundaries of their work. “How can we answer something we are not asked?” they said. Perhaps this businessman I wrote to will feel the same way.
And now the fear is setting in. What have I done in writing this letter? Who do I think I am to go around suggesting that a large financial institution consider taking a tiny slice of their profit during a recession and using it for a microcredit program? And then I smile, and think to myself “I just let my inner-Yunus run free.” If I’m scared, I must be doing something worthwhile. What could our world be like if we all did just that? What if we suggested the impossible and then went for it?
books, social entrepreneurship, women

The Journal of Cultural Conversation: What Can You Do To Help The World’s Women?

Christa Avampato

Last weekend, I went to 92Y to hear Nicholas Kristof and Sheryl WuDunn discuss their new book Half the Sky: Turning Oppression into Opportunity for Women Worldwide. The book chronicles their travels through Africa and Asia, interviewing women who are enduring unbelievable circumstances and exhibiting equally unbelievable strength. It is filled with data, facts, and figures that methodically document the travails of women in the developing world. Their stories simultaneously broke my heart and lifted me up. They are issuing a call to action, today, to each of us.

To read the full article, please click here.

books, discovery, fear, friendship, patience, yoga

My Year of Hopefulness – At the End of the Test

Christa Avampato

One can’t learn much and also be comfortable. One can’t learn much and let anybody else be comfortable.

On Friday night I went for a walk with my friend, Dan. We wound our way through Central Park talking about recent events in our lives, challenges we’re facing, things we’re excited about. We got onto the subject of testing. When recently talking to a friend of his about a particular circumstance he’s working though the friend said, “Like Job, you are being tested.” Dan’s response was a simple question, “What do I get if I pass the test?” I’ve been thinking about that question all weekend.

As I was working through my yoga practice this morning, I was thinking about the idea of comfort versus discomfort. Times of testing are often uncomfortable times. We just want to get through them as quickly as possible. We want the shortest path to relief. Yoga teaches us to be comfortable being uncomfortable, sinking into the pose, going deeper, as opposed to pulling away often helps us. Perhaps the shortest relief to discomfort is through, similar that old saying of “If you’re going through hell, keep going.” Every day that saying makes more sense to me.
Maybe Charles Fort is correct: If we shrank away every situation that was challenging, every situation that brought some kind of fear or discomfort, perhaps we’d never learn anything. If we embrace fear, discomfort, and confusion for the sake of learning, maybe challenging times become easier to bear. Maybe learning is the prize at the end of our test. All that’s required of us is patience and commitment. We just have to keep showing up, for ourselves and for one another.
books, children, dreams, goals, literature

My Year of Hopefulness – Motivation and The Little Prince

Christa Avampato

“If you want to build a ship, don’t herd people together to collect wood and don’t assign them tasks and work, but rather teach them to long for the endless immensity of the sea.” ~ Antoine de Saint-Exupery

I love The Little Prince. It was one of my favorite books as a child. I love his wide-eyed questioning of life, and his desire to explore things that are strange and unexplained. As children often do, he was able to make connections between seemingly disparate activities and relationships, and in the process showed us how to think about our lives in a larger context than just our day-to-day collection of tasks. He asks us to consider our role in and contribution to humanity as a whole.

I was thinking about The Little Prince this morning, eating my Cheerios and looking at the water towers that dot my view from my apartment. The water towers look like brave guards, standing watch; they almost seem to breathe. They make me feel safe. The city looks so different from 17 floors up. I’m always struck by that – as I get down to the street-level, my neighborhood transforms. Up above, I have the ability to be more idealistic. The height helps me dream and consider my larger motivations in life, apart from the actual tasks I’m engaged in; it helps me think like the Little Prince.

This quote from Antoine de Saint-Exupery is helping me frame up my own desired contribution to humanity. I want to help as many people as I can to use their creativity to improve our world. That’s not going to happen in a business plan; it’s not going to happen through mandates and time lines and a to-do list. It can happen if I follow Antoine de Saint-Exupery’s advice in every area of my life, with every interaction I have with every person I know and meet. It’s that desire to play a part in building a better world that I must foster in all of my relationships. Individuals will find their own way to make a contribution. They all have their own talents and interests that can be used toward this common goal; my role is to be their biggest cheerleader, their champion, their advocate, and where applicable, their guide.
art, books, children, family, friendship, values, writing

My Year of Hopefulness – Value we can’t see

Christa Avampato

A week ago, I found myself in Barnes & Noble nosing around in the children’s fiction department. In order to begin working on the scripts for my education program, I wanted to get a feel for a 6th grader’s vocabulary, sentence structure, and plot complexity. I was wandering around the store feeling underwhelmed. Where were all of the good children’s books?


And then just as I was leaving a small set of books caught my eye. Published by Scholastic, Blue Balliett wrote a set of kids mystery books that involve several main characters that carry over in the series. I picked up The Wright 3, a book about three 6th grade friends who find themselves in a race to save the Robie House, Frank Lloyd Wright’s Chicago masterpiece, from demolition. I found it oddly comforting over this last week because of several key messages it offers in a very forthright fashion – just the way that kids do.


1.) “Don’t give up. In darkness, much work can be accomplished.” I think about how much darkness was in that stairwell of my old apartment building during the fire. So much raced through my mind as I scrambled down the stairs – from “stop drop and roll” to things I never got a chance to say people whom I care about to “I will get out of this building unharmed”. In darkness, we develop a keen sense of sight and insight for things that we cannot see in broad daylight.


2.) “Sometimes when you lose something, you end up getting something else. Only you can’t know about the second thing until you’ve lost the first…losing is sometimes gaining.” It’s human nature to lament a loss of any kind whether it’s our home, our belongings, our jobs, a relationship. What’s so often under-appreciated is that losing something makes room for something new, and often better than what we had before, and it gives us a new appreciation for the things and people we do have in our lives. It takes a while to see that trade-off as a good one. In the past I have hung on to a sense of loss for far too long. I am trying to change that.


3.) “It’s sometimes hard to tell the line between real and unreal.” This world and the energies it contains work in mysterious ways. Magic and things that cannot be explained are constantly at work. Our life is full of coincidences. People appear in our lives, then disappear, then reappear again. An opportunity comes around, we may pass on it, and then it comes around again for a second and third chance. This world always has something to teach us.


4.) “Sometimes little things can appear big, and big things little.” This idea is especially powerful for me this week. I used to think I needed so many things. My apartment was filled with things I loved, things I could not imagine living without. In the end very little of it mattered. Actually, none of it really matters too much. My health and the people I love are really the only things that matter to me now.


5.) “What you notice first isn’t always what you’re looking for.” This is my favorite idea from The Wright 3. We’re so quick to judge, categorize and title a person, place, or thing. And sometimes the value we connote to an item or a person isn’t permanent. Some things and people become more valuable to us with time, and it can be a long, slow process to figure out just what the right value should be. We owe it to ourselves to give things and people a chance to prove their worth. The reality of a situation is not always what it initially presents itself to be.