Category: choices

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.

choices, love, risk, work

My Year of Hopefulness – When Choice and Logic Meet

Christa Avampato

“We either make ourselves happy or miserable. The amount of work is the same.” ~ Carlos Castaneda, American anthropologist and author

I’ve been thinking a lot about work this week. Not necessarily where I am employed, but rather the broader definition of work that encompasses all of the activities that I am engaged in every day. The most valuable, affecting, satisfying work I do all day involves my writing. Whether it’s on this blog, for TJCC, the fiction I’m currently working on, or my after-school program, I now know that writing is what I’m meant to do. I really can’t imagine taking up another profession that doesn’t have writing and content creation as its main activity.

Now I’ve been down this road before. I’ve had several opportunities to take up writing full-time and I’ve turned away out of fear. Again, I am at this same, familiar cross-roads: Can I jump off the cliff as so many successful writers say they ultimately had to do? We hear it all the time – lawyers who just couldn’t be lawyers for one more day, doctors and nurses who couldn’t work one more overnight shift, corporate employees who lost all interest in climbing any kind of ladder. They wanted so much to do something creative that they could no longer make their living any other way. Can I be that brave (or ignorant as the case may be for me)?

There are a few tough things about taking great risks, whether the risk is in our professional or personal lives:

1.) Once you jump off the cliff, you can’t change your mind. You can’t get back to where you were before.

2.) There are no guarantees.

3.) You won’t know if it’s the right choice until you actually jump.

These are weighty considerations. I think of my friend, Allan, who is very close to returning to school for a degree that he knows will lead him in the direction of his dream job. Or my friend, LT, who is a phenomenal and engaging public speaker who is beginning to lay the groundwork for his own business. Or my friend, Lissa, who left behind her work as a GYN so she could build a supportive on-line community for women and conduct self-empowerment and personal development workshops. And my dear friends, Amy and Rob, who are in the transition process from financially lucrative careers in the arts to personally fulfilling ventures in peace building and social work. I’m drawing my inspiration from them these days. “Maybe I can do this,” I thought this morning in my cubicle.

The latest iteration of this thought started to take shape on Wednesday. At 10am I had a full-on argument, not raising the volume of my voice. Thank goodness it was by phone and not in person. Then someone basically told me to shut up and do what I was told. Hmmm….that doesn’t exactly sit well with me. I don’t do any of the things in that phrase well – I don’t shut up, I don’t like being told what to do if I completely disagree with it, and I certainly don’t take kindly to being told to do those two things in combination. And then I completely surprised myself – I articulated with passion and clarity why I would not comply with this person’s request. And my comments were met with complete silence. My friend, Jeff, calls it “The Ba-bam Response”, as in “Ba-bam, take that!” In that moment, the person yelling at me is the one who sat down and I stood up, way up, perhaps as straight and tall as I have ever been.

Today I read the quote above by Carlos Castaneda, and I have not been able to get it out of my mind. Castaneda is right. To not write requires that I work very hard at something that I’d rather not do for a living, and to choose to write full-time (and make a living at it) will be a tremendous amount of work, too. So shouldn’t I do a tremendous amount of work for something I really want to do rather than something I don’t want to do?

I went through this same process in my personal life a few years ago. I used to be afraid, very afraid, to fall in love. I flat out refused to do it. There is a great risk involved in opening up our hearts and loving someone. We could get hurt. Very hurt. And then one day I was able to consider the alternative: if I don’t open up my heart, if I never fall in love and never allow anyone to be close enough to fall in love with me then I will always be a very lonely person who feels disconnected and isolated from the world around me. This loneliness and isolation is its own kind of hurt.

So then I reasoned, “shouldn’t I take the risk and open up my heart because at least in that scenario there is a chance that falling in love can bring me great happiness and joy?” Loneliness and isolation will always, certainly lead to being hurt. And with that reasoning my heart opened up. And yes, I did get hurt, many times, and I also found a lot of joy and happiness, too. Falling in love generates a much stronger likelihood for happiness than not falling in love so I could no longer keep my heart locked up inside of me. It was no longer logical to resist falling in love.

And so it goes with writing full-time, and I think that this time around, when that fork presents itself, I will choose to go down the writing road. Carlos Castaneda’s quote made me realize that any other choice just doesn’t make sense.

choices, dreams, happiness, home, New York City

My Year of Hopefulness – Dream Reality Dream

Christa Avampato

“Dreams pass into the reality of action. From the actions stems the dream again; and this interdependence produces the highest form of living.” ~ Anaïs Nin


The set-up of my new apartment is nearly complete. It’s beginning to feel like a home, so to celebrate I took myself for a stroll around my new / old neighborhood. Even though I only moved four blocks north, it feels like a whole new life here. Somehow, even my old haunts look different, refreshed from this vantage point.

Everywhere I looked there were signs of new life: business springing up on every corner, new restaurants that were bustling, sidewalk artists, musicians on the streets, fresh fruit vendors. One hair salon was having a day of gratitude, thanking customers for their loyalty during these tough times. It was enough to make me giddy. Maybe we are going to be okay.

All of this new activity got me to thinking about dreams and how I’d like my life to be going forward, starting today. This year has been filled with great lessons on the power of intention. Hoping and praying for something to come to pass has its power, though on its own it’s not going to get the job done. While I believe in the energy of the universe, I believe that energy is there for us to use, not admire. I’m beginning to question this idea of what we’re “meant to do”. We may just be meant to do whatever we set our minds and hearts to.

There is a peculiar play between dreams and action. I’ve found that I have some dreams that are filled with so much passion that it would be impossible for me to not work on them. And that work is what brings them to life. And seeing my dreams brought to life begets the confidence to create new dreams. And on and on we go. This cycle enables us to live to our full potential.

Someone recently told me that she’s afraid to work on her dream because she’s actually afraid of achieving it. A part of her just wants to put it away in a little box for safekeeping so that it always stays in her mind’s eye, exactly the way she envisions it. This sounded so strange to me. Who actively doesn’t want their dream to come true? And then we got to what she’s really afraid of: if she achieves her dream, then what will she do after that? What if there isn’t anything else? What will she do when she’s run out of dreams? Will she just be hanging around waiting for life to go by?

There is another beautiful layer of truth hidden in Anaïs Nin’s quote that speaks to this fear. She’s saying that deeply embedded in every dream is the seed to a new dream that’s activated when we see the first dream become real. In other words, having a dream, going after it, and achieving it guarantees that a new dream is on the way. There’s no need to hold back. No need to give only part of the energy we have. Pour yourself into your endeavors, all of them. The well of strength and possibility is deeper than we could ever imagine. The dream you have right now, at this moment, is only the beginning.

The photo above can be found here.

choices, decision-making, dreams, future

My Year of Hopefulness – Make Your Own Path

Christa Avampato

“Travelers, there is no path. Paths are made by walking.” ~ Antonio Machado, Spanish poet

A few years ago, my friend, Amy, and I were talking about the lives that were stretched out before us, that were laying in wait for our arrival. We were at a place called The Little Grill, a co-op restaurant in Harrisonburg, Virginia. We were both graduate students; Amy was getting her Master’s in Conflict Resolution at EMU and I was getting my MBA just down the road at UVA in Charlottesville. I asked Amy how she saw all of her work playing out. Would she go overseas? Did she have a specific issue or population she wanted to work with? What did she think the universe held for her? Her response was that she didn’t know; the only thing she was sure of at that time was that she wanted to build her own road and not wait for it to find her.

I remember that conversation so clearly. Amy’s passion for her work was so evident. Now here we are, close pals, building our respective roads. Our paths have been shaped by many unexpected events, some good and some not-so-good. Those paths weren’t laying in wait for us as I originally thought. We’ve had to build them, one tiny piece at a time, by trying something, and trying again and again and again. Maybe our fate isn’t set by the Universe at all. Maybe we find our groove by moving.

While it can be a little disappointing to know that our perfect life isn’t out there waiting for us to show up, it’s also very freeing. Maybe our life’s work isn’t pre-determined. Maybe there’s nothing to discover, as if it’s been there all along. Maybe it’s all more dynamic than that. Maybe our life’s work can be whatever we want it to be, and if after a period of time we want to change it up, then that’s A-OK. After all, it’s our path, and it’s only going to be built by us moving forward. And sometimes moving forward means moving on.

Someone I know is very passionate politics right now. He’s researching all kinds of election methods and voting systems because he’s become deeply interested in how our government operates. I told him yesterday that I can’t wait to see how this all plays out for him, where it takes him. He said, “well, for now this is my interest. Tomorrow it might be the clarinet, and then that’s all you’ll hear about from me.” Little did I know that he was saying exactly the same thing as Machado. His path, Amy’s path, all of our paths are ours to build. Take whatever turns you want.

The photo above can be found at: http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2304/1557274926_a7c2569175_b.jpg

choices, decision-making, future, stress, success, worry

My Year of Hopefulness – Just Get to What’s Next

Christa Avampato

“Wisdom consists not so much in knowing what to do in the ultimate as knowing what to do next.” ~ Herbert Hoover, 31st U.S. president

Today I met with an old friend from college that I haven’t seen in 11 years. She and I worked on a theatre production together at Penn, and she has a new theatre project that she wanted to get my advice on. At one point in our conversation she said she just felt so overwhelmed by the enormity of the task of getting the project off the ground. As much as she believes in the idea, the shear amount of work that it takes will be intense, regardless of whether it is a runaway hit, a flop, or somewhere in-between. She is afraid of the outcome of her efforts before she’s even begun.

Like all of us with ideas that get our blood pumping, we get ahead of ourselves. We haven’t even put a proposal on paper, and already we are off and running making contingency plans for every challenge and triumph imaginable. Long-term planning is important; to paralyze ourselves with fear in the short-run makes all of our worrying inconsequential. If we can’t even get started, our long-term contingency plans don’t make a bit of difference.

A crystal ball would be a handy tool to have in our back pocket, particularly if we could play out different scenarios before making choices. Unfortunately, no one has invented one of those yet, and so we’re left with only our gut, experience, and conscience to help us make decisions. While we might do our best chess playing game, anticipating how the world around us will change, it never goes exactly according to plan. There’s always some surprise we didn’t account for. And if you’re doing A just to get to B, then my experience has demonstrated that surely C, D, and E will show up to throw a wrench in the works.

The best we can do is to just do what’s next. Keep a lofty goal as your guide, and remember that there are many routes to it. Don’t shut down your ability to move forward by standing at the fork in the road and burying your head in your hands. Self-imposed grief, and the indecision that comes along with it, doesn’t serve anyone well. And your dreams are too important. You have too much to offer this world. There is no time for indecision. The only choice you need to make right now is the next one. Leave the future where it belongs, out ahead of you.

The image above can be found at: http://toughsledding.files.wordpress.com/2009/03/fork.jpg

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.

choices, discovery, friendship, hope, writing

My Year of Hopefulness – Disappointment as Fuel for Change

Christa Avampato

“We must accept finite disappointment, but we must never lose infinite hope.” ~ Martin Luther King Jr.

I’m now nearly 7 months through my 1 year commitment to actively search for hope every day and write about it. I’m in the thick of it and the remaining months of 2009 seem to be just around the bend. This is the side effect of working in a retail-focused business: I’m always one step ahead of myself because the industry I work in demands it. Looking for hope is sometimes an easy task and sometimes a game of hunt and peck. Some days I struggle to find something hopeful and positive, and other days it seems that the world is awash with hope, so much so that it’s hard to take it all in and stay still long enough to write about it. It’s these latter days that I try to focus on most.

I’ve become a fan of daily email delivery of my favorite blogs. I get why tools like Google Reader are valuable; I just prefer to use my gmail inbox as my to-do list. (Thank you, David Pogue, for that insight on email in-boxes!) And I like the idea that my favorite writers are sending me little bits of wisdom directly, or at least I feel like they’re sending them to me directly. Daily Good, a blog that posts a daily story about some piece of goodness in the world, is one of my favorites. Their stories always begin with a quote, and it’s responsible for many of the quotes that populate my “food for thought” section in the right side bar of this blog.

This week Daily Good posted up the quote above from Martin Luther King, Jr. He could have easily made the quote “We must accept disappointment, but we must never lose hope.” Still powerful, still emotional, still inspirational. Instead, he chose to talk about finite disappointment and infinite hope, and link the two together. In my 7 months of writing about hope, I have found disappointment. More than I would have liked.

Just this week, I decided I had accepted enough disappointment. I’d reached the finite limit that Dr. King spoke about and then decided that I could no longer wait to do what I really wanted to do. With the help of some friends who help me think clearly, who help to bolster me up when I get a little bit down, I made a plan to turn all of my attention to what I hope to achieve and away from what’s disappointed me. The hope was there all along, even through the disappointment. I just wasn’t seeing it. We can all do a lot more than hope for a change; there will be no grand arrival and entrance of change. It’s always there – we need only reach out and grab a hold of it.

art, career, choices, dreams, friendship, goals

My Year of Hopefulness – Finishing what you’ve started

Christa Avampato

“Nothing is so fatiguing as the eternal hanging on of an uncompleted task.” ~ William James

I have a hard time letting things go. I have to watch movies straight through to the end, no matter how bad they are. I have to finish every book I start. Nothing causes me to lose sleep more than tasks hanging around for me to finish tomorrow; hence my tremendous lack of sleep in a partially packed apartment. Why is it so troublesome to let things lie around undone?

It could be that I’ve read too many stories about people who didn’t quite get to see their dreams realized. It could be that I’ve read that quote from John Lennon “Most people die with the music still in them” once too often. I don’t want to look back and be so far away from something I started that it’s too difficult to pick it up again.

We get to these points in our lives where we must go left or right and it’s very hard to double back once we’ve made a choice. Not impossible, but certainly difficult. I’m there now. A lot of my friends are there now. Maybe this is the dilemma we find in our 30’s. We are making choices now that impact every other choice down the line. We’re deciding who we’re going to become, how we’re going to make use of our talents, how the world around us is going to be different because we passed this way instead of that way.

And while I have a natural instinct of which way to go at this fork in the road, the choice in my heart is a tough one. It’s got some risks baked into it. It’s not the safe route. Some times I think the choice in my heart isn’t even the sane route to take. Then again, when has making the sane, safe choice ever lead me to complete fulfillment?

Today I went to a baby shower for my friend, Alex. One of her college friends made a critical choice to leave behind the business world and pursue her PhD in art history, thanks to Alex’s encouragement. She loved art history early on in college and had given up her dream to work in that field to take the safe business route. Before it was too late, she went back to what she loved.

Every one of her professors told her this choice was ridiculous, that she was truly wasting her life in art history, that she’d never get a job. One of them actually told her that a degree in art history and a quarter wouldn’t even get her a cup of coffee. Now she works in New York and helps corporations and nonprofits build their private art collections. Turns out that a degree in art history has earned her much more than a cup of coffee. It helped her earn a happy life. The rewards of finishing what she started and following her heart.

books, choices, priorities, travel, writing

My Year of Hopefulness – 20-10

Christa Avampato

A lot of my friends are asking themselves weighty questions these days. I had brunch with a friend on Sunday who told me that someone we used to work worth just lost his mom to cancer. His mom was 58. It’s a sobering thought to consider how short life is, and how much opportunity for living this world offers us.

In the book In Pursuit of Elegance, Matt May talks about how Jim Collins left HP. One of his former professors gave him an assignment called “20-10”: Imagine you’ve just inherited $20M free and clear. The catch is you only have 10 years to live. What would you do – and more importantly, what would you stop doing? As a result of this exercise, he quit his job at HP, despite his success there, and pursued a life of teaching, researching, and writing. And we are the great benefactors of that choice.

This assignment takes great courage to complete, and even greater courage to put the results into action. It’s easy for us to think we have a long life ahead of us. It’s easy to think that we have all the time in the world to accomplish what we really want to do. It’s easy to just play the game of “let me just get by for now”. The trouble with that game is that for now very quickly turns into a long, long time. It might even turn into a lifetime.

This world is counting on us, on all of us, to do something truly extraordinary. And extraordinary can take many different forms, depending on our priorities. Depending on the outcome of our 20-10 assignment. I’ve been putting off this assignment for a solid week now. Too afraid to answer that simple question. $20M, 10 years. What would I do and what would I stop doing?

I would…
Travel
Have my family and friends close to me
Write and write and write, and read and read and read
I’d find a way to build a company or an organization around a product, service, or cause I care about, so that it would survive long, long, long after I’m gone
Fall in love one more time

I would stop…
Letting someone else tell me what my development plan is
Spending time in a gray cubicle
Worrying

A shorter list than I expected on both counts. I thought there was a lot I’d stop doing, until I realized that most of what I do that I don’t like doing is related to my worrying. I didn’t know that. I didn’t realize how afraid I was, of just living, until I wrote this list. I didn’t realize that falling in love one more time was so important to me. And it further confirmed that the writing life is the right life for me. When everything else fall away, it’s this act, this daily time translating my thoughts into words on a page that makes life worthwhile for me. And that is worth something – it’s actually worth everything.

The photo above depicts Jim Collins and can be found at: http://www.seeseeeye.com/uploads/wp_161.jpg

childhood, choices, decision-making, growth

My Year of Hopefulness – The Day I Grew Up

Christa Avampato

I am in the midst of preparing an essay for a contest with the theme “the day I grew up.” I’ve been racking my brain, conjuring up old memories, to get to that one realization that defined the end of my childhood and the beginning of my adult life. Trouble was I couldn’t think of any one moment. It seemed to happen gradually – actually, I think I’m still in the midst of that transition. Or at least I thought I was until today.

Two events happened to me today that signaled to me that I had turned the corner – leaving my childish insecurity and lack of confidence behind, tossing it off in favor of the confidence and self-assurance I have always admired in adults. I recognize that it’s odd that it would take me 33 years of living to make the leap. Better late than never.

Event one: I was told that I may have to stop writing, or at the very least have my writing approved and heavily edited, if I am to continue my association with an organization that I am currently involved with. It seems that they think my writing reflects upon them, even if I’m writing about a subject entirely unrelated to them.

That means that this blog would go silent and that my Examiner.com column would grind to a halt, just as I am finding my own voice and rhythm. I would have to stop doing the one activity I love most in the world – writing – because someone else demanded it. Without a second thought I decided that if I cannot have my writing life and be associated with that organization, then that organization would cease to be a part of my life. As a child, if my mother told me to stop jumping on the bed, I stopped jumping on the bed. As an adult, I won’t stop doing something I love because someone else say I have to.

Event two: I was asked to put my name on a request that I cannot support because “that’s the way it’s always been done.” Even though the request doesn’t make any sense, and everyone involved with the request agrees it doesn’t make sense, I was still being asked to push it forward. I will admit that I got a bit exasperated. My emotions got the best of me. I’m a passionate person.

As if someone was asking me to dishonor my name and my sense of judgment for the sake of being compliant to a rule I disagree with, I was handed the dare: say yes, even though you disagree, or face the consequences. A child would flinch at the thought of the consequences. I chose the consequences. I know the value of my name and judgment, and they’re worth so much to me that I’d rather suffer any consequences that their defense may trigger.

When I was a kid, I always imagined that growing up would be this phenomenal achievement. It would be a welcome release. And it is, sort of. But it’s a little lonely, too. Today, I shut some doors. I made a few decisions that cannot be undone. And while I am confident that they are the right decisions for me to make, those doors are still a little painful to shut. It means there’s one less avenue, one less path to take to wherever it is my life is headed.

It’s almost as if I didn’t even make the choices in the two events today. The world made them for me. It handed me a set of circumstances, already knowing which direction I’d take, in order to push me forward. Fate’s a funny thing. On one hand, it’s comforting to know that the world has something in store for us that’s far better than anything we can dream up on our own. On the other hand, we have to cede control to a grander plan that we don’t entirely know. One thing is for certain: in order to grow up we have to let go of all the “might-have-been’s” to focus on the “all-that-will be’s”.