Category: change

career, change, choices, relationships

My Year of Hopefulness – Standing on the Hinge

Christa Avampato

“Everything can be taken from a man but one thing: the last of the human freedoms — to choose one’s attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one’s own way.” ~ Victor Frankl

I just finished the book Here If You Need Me, a brilliant memoir by Kate Braestrup. Kate is a writer who became a minster shortly after her husband’s death. Being a minister wasn’t her dream; it was her late husband’s dream and because he didn’t get the chance to achieve that, she offered up her own vocation for him. She is the chaplain to the game wardens of Maine, the group of brave public servants who conduct searches for people who are lost in the deep Maine woods, the person who falls through the ice, the hiker who ventures too far for too long. Their work can be dangerous and frequently ends with a tragic discovery. They need a good chaplain and they have a superb one in Kate.

The book is a fast, inspiring read. Of all the anecdotes that stand out in my mind, the most vivid in my mind is her description of her job as standing on the hinge of life. Kate is the one who waits with the families as the game wardens search for their loved ones that are lost or missing. She counsels the wardens after tragic circumstances are discovered. She stands with them in these uncomfortable, difficult moments that will come to define their lives. These are the moments that define their befores and afters.

All through the book I kept thinking about this metaphor, this hinge of life. I kept thinking about how many hinges I’ve been on lately. These moments that define my own befores and afters. Each one presents an opportunity for choice – we get to choose our attitude, our way forward, our outlook, and the learnings we take away from each experience.

September 2009 could have left a very deep scar on my heart. Instead, I had to make it a time of great learning and exploration. I had to make those days count by allowing them to teach me what’s truly important to me. They became a time of great commitment for me. Instead of being wracked by fear, I realized that I had nothing to fear because I knew I would be fine no matter what happened from here on out. I survived the perfect storm.

September was one big hinge for me and gave me the chance to recognize quite literally that the important things in life aren’t things. It taught me that I want very deep, meaningful relationships to be the core of my life. I set myself on a course to eventually write full-time. New York most certainly became my long-time home. On October 1st, I knew with certainty what I wanted from my life with a clarity I’ve never had before. And it feels great.

Hinges are difficult. They are filled with great expectations and great hesitancy. They are points of no turning back. Unless we’re people like Kate, we only get a few opportunities to stand at the hinge of our own lives. Life doesn’t offer up learnings and choices of that type of poignancy every day. And thank goodness because they can be incredibly stressful times. Though when we get the chance to stand at the edge of our lives and decide in a very profound way who we are and who we mean to be, it’s an opportunity we should approach with a grateful and open heart. After all, we will not be able to pass this way again.

change, future

My Year of Hopefulness – Imagination and Limits

Christa Avampato

“My favorite place is my imagination.” ~ Jackie Pagan


On my way to see Muhammad Yunus earlier this week, one of the subway posters caught my attention. It said “Every man takes the limits of his own field of vision for the limits of the world.” It’s a quote from Arthur Schopenhauer, the German philosopher. It made me think of how often our own reality and experience limits our ability to realize, work for, and achieve change in every aspect of our lives. How do we begin to expand our limits to imagine a wholly different existence, for ourselves and for others?


I find that reading helps. I read a lot of biographies and autobiographies, and reading about the accomplishments and motivations of others gives me inspiration and courage. Stubbornness and a desire to seek out and generate understanding can go a long way toward imagining a different kind of world.


“The moment one definitely commits oneself, then Providence moves too,” Goethe said. It’s true in business, in personal relationships, in rising above challenges. If we commit to being present and persevering, somehow we make it through even the most difficult of times. Somehow the way ahead opens before us. There’s real magic in commitment.


There were plenty of times in the past three weeks when I thought I might fall apart; when I felt scared and alone and filled with anxiety. And the moment I felt those old familiar feelings creeping in, I promptly slammed the door on them. I couldn’t let myself feel defeated; that’s a road to nowhere. I had to keep digging deeper for strength. I had to imagine a different reality where I was grateful for who and what I have in my life, rather than being resentful for what I had lost. I could not let my previous vision of my day-to-day life limit how I looked at my life for all of my tomorrows. I had to commit to a new way forward where I seek to love this and every moment. It’s a commitment I’m making every day.


Our imagination is powerful beyond measure, so powerful that we can barely even comprehend our full capabilities for change. We are the only ones who place limits on our vision. The world is a wide-open space, a blank canvas that we color in to our own liking. If only we could recognize that, we’d be able to keep from painting ourselves into a corner. We can and should invent and re-invent ourselves over and over again. And as we take on that challenge of re-invention we inspire others to do the same. In truth nothing has to be as it is; it can all be changed.

change, faith, family, friendship, hope, love

My Year of Hopefulness – Unwitting Angels

Christa Avampato

I believe in guardian angels, divine moments of intervention, and the continuous play between the world we see and the world just beyond our vision. While I do believe that angels walk among us, I also believe that we have the ability, at every moment, to be angels to one another.

In the aftermath of the fire in my apartment building, there is a lot of chaos. I am now dealing with adjusters from my renter’s insurance. (Thank God I have renter’s insurance. If you don’t, please stop reading this post and by it immediately through Liberty Mutual at http://www.libertymutual.com. A $181 annual premium buys you $25,000 worth of coverage with a $500 deductible.) I also have buyer’s protection on my charge card so I need to make an inventory for them so I can be reimbursed for damaged items. I have to find a new place to live. I’ll have to rebuild a stock of personal items.
And you know what? It’s all okay. I am monumentally lucky to be alive and physically unscathed. Much of that is due to the amazing love and support and concern of my friends and family, from people who read my online writing and follow my usually fun antics on Twitter. This is the power of community. This is the power of unwitting angels – people who show up as little rays of light just when we need that light most. It’s always there, it sometimes just takes a different lens of experience to see it.
My friend, Amber, one of my unwitting angels in this situation, has graciously offered me her apartment for the week while she’s out of town. I came to pick up the keys from her, and we got to talking about how incidents like my apartment building fire change our perspective. She thinks I will quickly adopt the policy of “omeletitgo” – I’m just gonna let it all go. From this point forward, all those little frustrations and annoyances that build up in our day to day lives just don’t matter. The physical stuff we accumulate just doesn’t matter. If all goes up in smoke, it doesn’t matter.
All that does matter is kindness. How do we support and love and care for one another in good times and bad? How can we help those in crisis? How can we serve one another to make all of our days a bit easier? How can we all be a part of the global brigade of unwitting angels?
The image above is not my own and can be found here.
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.

change, dreams, learning

My Year of Hopefulness – To the Extreme

Christa Avampato

This morning I set out two big goals get my new apartment organized: get the kitchen and bathroom into livable condition. As I was straightening out my bathroom, I noticed that the contractors had only put one light bulb into the ceiling fixture. It was a little dim and as I used the mirror over the sink I wondered if adding another light bulb would really help since there is a half wall that separates the vanity from the bathtub. To solve this question I considered the extreme: if the sun magically appeared as my light fixture, would that make the whole bathroom brighter, half wall or not? Of course it would. Question answered. I just had to make sure I had a light bulb that was bright enough to make a difference.

This little trick of extremes is one I learned in my economics classes while at Darden. For example, let’s take supply and demand. What happens to price as supply increases? Well, what would happen if there was so much of a product that everyone could have 1,000,000 units? The product likely wouldn’t be worth much. Price would be very low. So we can conclude that as supply increases, price drops (unless of course demand is so high that it could never be satisfied. But I digress…)
This method can be used for any circumstance in our lives from changing a light bulb to developing a new product. When I was writing the paper to develop a pilot of my education program, I went to extremes. What if I only needed 10 eager students, a room in any public classroom, and I was willing to fund the entire thing myself so that the school and the kids wouldn’t have to pay a dime? Could I convince one public school in New York City to participate? Probably.
We can also use this method for more abstract ideas, and this perhaps the most powerful use for this technique. What are all the circumstances we would need to be completely happy? What are all the things we would need to accomplish in order to live a fulfilling life? What would we be willing to do (or give up) in order to make our wildest dream a reality? What if we only had a very short time remaining in this lifetime – what would we do right now?
The photo above can be found here.
change, friendship, good fortune, grateful, gratitude, home, moving

My Year of Hopefulness – New Home, Sweet Home

Christa Avampato

Moving day! Once again, I had a stellar experience with Flat Rate Moving and got some much needed, much appreciated help with my own bags from the past weeks. When arriving at the apartment this morning to see the new renovations, I had the impulse to skip from one end to the other. I actually hugged the new kitchen countertop. This apartment is such a huge improvement over my last place that I can hardly believe it’s mine!

While packing and unpacking are tough chores, I do relish the feeling of a fresh start, a new beginning filled with possibilities. My home isn’t just where I get some sleep and store my belongings. I do most of writing here. I practice my yoga which in akin to a religion for me. It’s a place where I laugh and cry and dream with my friends, where I have multiple out-of-town guests. The rest of my life springs from these walls, and with new walls, in some sense, I get a new life.
Once the movers collected my last signature and quietly closed the door on their way out, I did do a run through the maze of brown boxes that now lined my new place, and at the end made sure to do a little dance of gratitude: to my friends, Rob and Linda, who took me in for two weeks when I really needed a place to stay, for the movers who took such good care of my belongings from beginning to end, to the wonders of Craig’s list that made finding this apartment possible. I was so happy that I wanted to give the world one great big hug, and I wanted to make sure that I took a moment to remind myself how good this world and our experience in it can be.
Now I’m collapsing into bed with a wide smile. My feet haven’t been this tired in years and my legs aren’t used to the three flights of stairs just yet. And yet none of that matters. I’m home again.
change, economy, home, moving, New York City, recession

My Year of Hopefulness – While You Were Out

Christa Avampato

Today I went to pick up all of the keys for my new apartment. At 9am tomorrow, I’ll be happily skipping around my new, renovated, larger, cheaper apartment a mere four blocks from my old one – a very positive, unintended consequence of the recession.

I was too excited sleep this morning, so I was up and out the door early. I missed my old neighborhood, even though I’ve only been gone two weeks. I wanted to take some time to walk around before meeting my new landlord.

When I hopped off the train and walked a few blocks, I was surprised to see how much has changed. More store fronts have closed up, and a few formerly vacant ones are now occupied. A 10-story condo building is going up a few doors down from my new digs. The 96th Street subway construction looks like it may actually be finished some time relatively soon. And two blocks away, I’m not just getting a Whole Foods (which has me smiling widely) but an entire retail complex called Columbus Square (get it?) that includes a Crumbs (gasp)! I may never have to leave my new little haven of hope.
I’m one of those folks who’s always surprised that any place I’ve been changes while I’m away. The way it is in my mind at last sight, is the way it remains frozen, captured in time. Like my friend, Brandi, I should be walking around with a camera at every moment so that I can quickly snap images of our ever-changing world. Tomorrow everything could be different.
My experience today makes me realize why exhibits like Camilo Jose Vergara’s beautiful tribute to Harlem are so powerful, poignant, and necessary. Just as we are always in a process of becoming, so are the communities where we live. Just as we want to tell our own stories, so do our cities.
The image above was taken by Ruby Washington/The New York Times.
change, choices, decision-making, failure, fate, success, time

My Year of Hopefulness – Stepping up and out

Christa Avampato

This week I got approval and funding for a project that I’ve been pitching for a year. A solid year of effort, and beating a drum that most had no interest in hearing. For the past year, I’ve felt alternately foolish and hopeful. One minute I thought I just didn’t get it, couldn’t see past my own stubbornness. The next minute I’d think, no, it’s everyone else who doesn’t get it.

I now realize that it wasn’t a matter of people getting it; it was entirely a matter of timing and circumstances. I wanted an idea to flourish ahead of its time. Had I gotten approval a year ago for it, the idea would have crashed and burned, no doubt about it. And then I would not have only felt foolish – I would have looked foolish, too.

The universe tries to protect us from ourselves. It throws down roadblocks to test our passion and perseverance, and also to give the rest of the world time to catch up with us. At the time that I first developed the idea, I didn’t see it that way. I was so willing to toot my own horn, thinking that I knew something others around me didn’t. In reality, the universe was saving me from me. It’s a difficult, necessary lesson to learn; when the path is cluttered with resistance, it really is best to wait it out with quiet strength.

This is not to say that we should all zip it and go stand in line waiting for our turn. I still maintain that it takes the ability to step up and out for an idea we believe in that really creates progress. However, the next time a project is not going exactly according to plan, I’ll have more patience with myself and with those around me. If the idea’s a good one, it’s time will come. Perhaps not on the schedule I’d like, though at the time when it has the greatest chance to not only survive but thrive.

books, change, family, growth

My Year of Hopefulness – Unaccustomed Earth

Christa Avampato

I’m reading the book Unaccustomed Earth by Jhumpa Lahiri, a book I’ve been interested for over a year because I was so touched by her last book, The Namesake. Lahiri has a beautiful way of weaving stories between generations and across cultures, identifying and then eloquently writing about her characters thoughts and their often mismatched actions. Her characters are flawed in serious ways, making them so real that after a few pages, we think they are our neighbors, our family members, our friends.

The title “Unaccustomed Earth” intrigues me. Before picking up the book, I thought Lahiri was talking about new and uncharted waters that her characters would take on. This true, with the added twist that the uncharted waters are new challenges taken on by new generations while their hearts, minds, traditions, and families remain firmly rooted in the past. Her main focus in this book is the conflict that arises in a family as the world, physical and emotional, quickly transforms and changes from one generation to the next.

In my home town, people rarely leave. 99% of families are Italian and Catholic, like mine. There are roads named after prominent families in town who have made their homes there for generations. Generations of families live side-by-side, childhood friends remain friends forever, having the same conversations day in and day out. There, time stands still.

My family is a transplant there – neither my mom nor my dad grew up there. My brother is there thought my sister, Weez, and I left as soon as we headed off for college and never looked back. This was an unfamiliar practice – most people who went to college went locally or at least within the state. My sister and I never even considered sticking around. We were off for greener pastures, the same way my mom and dad were when they were young. Maybe finding our own way in the world, away from everything and everyone we knew as kids, is somehow rooted in our genes.

While my mom always wanted us to make our own way, it’s fair to say that she wishes we were all always around, all the time. It must be a hard process to watch someone you brought into the world head out into the unknown to see what they can find. Lahiri’s stories boil down to a common theme: the unknown is frightening, and it’s especially frightening for older generations who watch younger ones take flight in foreign spaces. I imagine it’s the same for my mom – while she wants so much for us to have adventures, she also worries about Weez and I being safe and happy and healthy in a way that she doesn’t worry about my brother.

Lahiri begins her book with a quote that puts her stories in perspective. “Human nature will not flourish…for too long a series of generations in the same worn-out soil. My children…shall strike their roots in unaccustomed earth. ~Nathaniel Hawthorne.” While the stories mostly talk about conflict between generations, with Hawthorne’s quote she acknowledges that future generations must put down their roots in foreign soil in order for us to move forward, evolve, and lead productive lives. It’s that process of making the unfamiliar familiar that is so critical to our development, and the development of humanity. Adapt and change are the only two things we ever really have to do.

change, creativity, ideas, innovation

My Year of Hopefulness – Trying to get up that great big hill of hope

Christa Avampato

For a few weeks I’ve been going about my little routine called life. In one particular area, which shall remain nameless, I have been a little stuck. I was just going with the flow, or rather I was letting the waters stagnate. Sort of strolling along with my Bruce Hornsby attitude, telling myself “that’s just the way it is.” Truthfully, that’s the way it was because I let it be.

Fighting a battle, particularly one that’s uphill, is a tough activity to sign-up for. It’s exhausting. It’s painful. It’s frustrating. And a lot of times it doesn’t do any good at all. However, if we spend a lot of time on that battleground and we continually choose to stand at ease, then we get left behind, cleaning up what remains, which often isn’t a whole heck of a lot.

Today I decided I had stood around long enough. Yes, this is the way it is but it doesn’t have to be always be like this. And no one is going to fix it for me. Why should they? They have their own battles to worry about. I signed up for the gig, I took on the mission, and now I had to make sure I wasn’t wasting my time.

So away I went, crafting and planning and convincing that I could clearly perceive a better way forward, and am willing to put my time, energy, and talents into the new venture. I have no idea if it’s going to go anywhere. Tomorrow I could find myself still frittering away at the bottom of the hill. I do know that if I stand around twiddling my thumbs any longer, I’ll be at the bottom of that hill for a long time to come, and I’d have no one to blame for that except me. Might as well plant my stake in the ground and see who I can get to rally around it.

The image above can be found here.