Category: friendship

books, family, friendship, Hachette Book Group USA, hope

My Year of Hopefulness – Eat, Drink, and Be from Mississippi

Christa Avampato

The Hachette Book Group has a fantastic line-up of book releases this year. I just finished Eat, Drink, and Be From Mississippi by Nanci Kincaid. I wanted a book that would lift me up and make me feel more hopeful, and that’s exactly what Nanci Kincaid delivers.

We are presented with a family in Mississippi that is very typical of what we might think of as a traditional small town, southern family. By the end of the book, we are witness to the formation of a new family, mostly self-chosen, 3000 miles from Mississippi that personifies the “resurgence of collective possibility”.

Family is a funny thing: in the traditional sense, it’s an entity created by luck of the draw, people who are tied together by biology, and sometimes grow together and sometimes grow apart. Kincaid explores a new kind of family – one that people choose, either consciously or subconsciously. They fight as much as traditional families, and they also love fiercely. They believe in one another, even in the darkest hours. They are drawn to one another.

Through the whole book, I thought about this idea of having a calling, of being drawn to someone, or something, without any true justification. Could be a career, or a certain city, particular people, or a cause you care about. It overtakes you — no one tells you that you must dedicate yourself to this person, place, or ideal. You are just compelled to.

This is cause for great hope for all of us. Some of the characters in the book took a good long time to find their calling, others found it very quickly, and others thought they found it and then realized that they actually belonged some place else. It’s never too late, or too early, to find our place in the world. And sometimes that place shifts, and the best we can do is know that the Universe knows better than we do. One things is for certain: if you are open to your calling finding you at every turn, then eventually it will.

friendship, hope

My Year of Hopefulness – Friends Save the Day

Christa Avampato

I am always so grateful for the compassion, loyalty, and helpfulness of my friends who see me through tough times, who help me solve problems, and who generally make me feel good about being me. I know they’re great people, kind and loving and concerned. 


Today I am wrestling with an especially tough problem and there they were: hopeful, helpful, and supportive. It’s humbling to be surrounded by such bright, positive people who believe in me, hands down. They have an incredible way of helping me see clearly, even if it all looks bleak to me at first. And it’s not that they always agree with me. Many times they don’t. But they help me gather my thoughts and look at my resources a bit differently.

Perspective is helpful – it provides hope more than anything else ever could. With perspective, the world looks brighter.   
career, friendship, hope, relationships, work

My Year of Hopefulness – True Colors

Christa Avampato

Disappointment of any kind is difficult. If we have believed in, or loved, or respected, or trusted someone who then does something to betray our belief, love, respect or trust, it is hard to find any bright side to the situation. We may feel like we are bad judges of character, too naive, too trusting. 


There is a bright side though. There always is – it often just takes more work and effort and faith to find it when we’re in darkness. What if we never knew what another person was really like, good or bad? What if we never trusted someone enough, never trusted ourselves enough to get close to people and learn what they really stand for, how they really think and feel? It would be a lonely life. 

The trade-off for not feeling lonely and being close to others is that on occasion, some of those people, a small minority of them, will fail us. Some people that we think well of will let us down. And some times in a few very rare instances, that connection to that trusted person will be irreparable. This price is worth it though when we look around at all the people we have trusted and loved and can appreciate how full and rich our lives are as a result of those people.

And there is one additional bright side to betrayal as well: it opens the way for us to make room for others who will come into our lives some time down the road. I think of it as clearing out the cobwebs, getting my priorities back in line. We no longer need to invest in someone who disappointed us – we can just let them go.

I was talking this through with my friend, John, who has a less-than-satisfying job. He realized just today that a boss he has been slaving away for has hung him and his team out to dry to the company’s leadership. And what’s worse: his boss is proud of this. I guess he feels more powerful for having done so. John feels terrible though the good thing that he discovered is that he knows who his boss really is now. He had been staying at this company because he felt a sense of obligation to this boss; now he is free from that obligation. It’s a hard truth to face down, though clearly necessary. 

My mom has a great saying that she picked up from my grandmother and I am reminded of it every time I hear bad things happen to good people like John. My mom and grandmother say, “God writes straight through crooked lines.” Even if you don’t believe in God, the sentiment holds. Things happen in our world to send us on one course or another. Our lives flex and change. Joy is found when we can smile through that flex and change and be grateful for the the truth, even if that truth is painful. Joy’s not easy though it is always attainable as long as we can find reason and something to learn in every situation. 
books, friendship, movie, music, personality, relationships, theatre

Andre 3000

Christa Avampato

Have you heard of this guy Andre 3000? I haven’t. Outkast, yes. Andre 3000 – nope. Wouldn’t know him if I saw him. And I didn’t know his name in the midst of a group of people today at happy hour. For so long, I was used to being the youngest member of a group. That switch has flipped, clearly. I wish I could say that I’m not as hip as I used to be. Trouble is I was never hip. Ever.


The conversation then switched to movies. I had mentioned that I just saw Crash on DVD and loved it. For this I was slaughtered by nearly everyone in the group. They hated the movie – they thought it was narrow-minded and too precious. “No one talks like that or thinks like that.” “Could you make a more predictable movie?” Yikes. I was not in friendly waters.

So then we switched to books and someone said they were in the middle of A Thousand Splendid Suns, which I just finished. Finally – someone I can relate to! I said how much I enjoyed the book and also loved The Kite Runner (same author). Nope – I was the odd one out again. “That would never happen.” “What an unrealistic story.” “Too perfect an ending for my liking.” Ouch. Ouch. Ouch. And then they all left in a rush. I guess my taste in music, movies, and books cleared the room. 

Needlesstosay, I was happy to get away from those people and back to my cozy apartment among my books and music and movies that I love. (And incidentally, ones that many others love as well – Crash won 3 Oscars including one for best picture and both A Thousand Splendid Suns and The Kite Runner were best-sellers before they even went on sale to the public.) With that crowd, no wonder so many people didn’t come out for happy hour. They knew better given the company. Have any of these people read a newspaper, traveled outside of New York City, or even just learned to be polite? My guess is no. A resounding “no”. So while I felt bad about myself on the subway ride home, I was also reminded that we all have to howl if we want to find our pack. Clearly, that bunch is not my pack. I better spend my time elsewhere, and that is helpful information to have. 
friendship, grateful, gratitude, hope

My Year of Hopefulness – my friend, Ken

Christa Avampato

One way I feel more hopeful is by spending more quality time with people I love. Last year I spent a lot of time dashing from one place to the next, squeezing this task in here and that task in there. It’s exhausting. So I’m taking more time out this year for individuals and enjoying the time I have with them rather than watching the clock when I’m with them. 


To this end, I took the bus out to the Poconos to visit my friend, Ken, one of my nearest and dearest. Just being around him lifts up my spirit. He had a rough year in 2008, and what amazes me about him is that he doesn’t resent anything that he’s lost. He is much more grateful for having ever had those things and people in his life at all. It’s a good lesson for me, for all of us. Resentment and regret gets us nowhere. Gratefulness brings us joy, and ultimately more to be grateful for.  

care, career, friendship, holiday, hope

My Year of Hopefulness – Make Something That Matters

Christa Avampato

My friend, Monika, hosted three of us for dinner at her place last night. I can say with certainty that it was the nicest New Year’s Eve I’ve ever spent. Low-key, relaxed, with good friends, good food, and good wine. Though we just turned the page one more day, just like we have ever other day of the year, it did feel different this year. I did feel myself shrug off some sadness, some disappointment, even some anger. As I walked to the subway last night with my friend, Brandi, I was glad to hear I was not alone is feeling of heavy disappointment about the world. 


And then I read Seth Godin’s blog post this morning. Apparently, he hates New Year’s though he seems to have changed his tune this year, too. He sees a tremendous opportunity this year and I wonder how many of us will rise to the challenge he’s laid before us: “The opportunity this year is bigger than ever: to lead change, to create a movement in a direction you want to go. While the rest of your world huddles and holds back, here’s a golden chance to use cheap media, available attention, and great talent to make something that matters.”    

To that end, I wanted to share a resource given to me by my friend, Linda. Linda is on the board of the Black Culinary Association (BCA), a nonprofit that supports racial minorities entering the culinary world. Linda found BCA after registering her profile on boardnetusa.org, an on-line community that matches up boards seeking members with individuals interested in serving on nonprofit boards. If you’d like to take up Seth Godin’s challenge, this resource is a wonderful place to begin your journey. 
 
I’m home today cleaning my apartment to start the New Year off right. I was dusting my bookshelves a few hours ago and came across my copy of Oh, the Places You’ll Go. While a little bit cliched at this point, there are a few lines where I always get choked up. It’s possible I take our dear friend, Dr. Seuss, too literally. It’s also possible that I am a giant sap. “Your mountain is waiting so….get on your way!” always has some special meaning for me. I’ve been searching for my mountain for a long time now, and while I’ve climbed a few peaks, looked out over a few vistas, and none of them have been my peaks. I simply borrowed them from someone else for a while, did some good while I was there, and then had to move on. 

In 2009, I’d like to find my mountain, make something that matters. If you’ve found yours, know that I am insanely jealous and excited for you all at once. It must be a remarkable feeling. If you’re like me, still searching, then I hope that 2009 will be your year of great discovery, too. 
career, friendship, future, job

Getting What You Can From What You’ve Got

Christa Avampato

My friend, Lon, sent me an article from the Financial Times last week regarding employee satisfaction. For most of us, we can forget it for the near-term. Either we’re being let go or our friends are. Either we’re dumping all of our work on the people left standing at our companies or we’re the ones left standing doing the work of three other people. It doesn’t feel good to be on either end of this stick. There aren’t any winners in the job satisfaction game these days. 


So what are we to do? Hide under our desks or under our beds and wait for sunnier skies? It’s tempting but I wouldn’t recommend that. If you have your job, and even if you hate, there’s a way to make the best of what you’ve got. My friend, Kelly, came in to town recently and I was talking to her about this subject. No matter how nutsy her job gets, she always has a positive perspective. It’s a little sickening actually. She was my friend in graduate school who could listen to the most obnoxious student go on and on about nothing and be searching for what she could learn while the rest of us were banging our heads against the wall out of frustration. 

How does she do that?? How does she always see the best in her job situation, even though her company, and every company for that matter, is going through tough times? This isn’t the end game for her and she knows that. Her real passion is education, but she wanted big company experience first so she could bring something to the education party that would be beneficial. Consequently, she takes in all of this good learning she has all around her, the good, the bad, and the ugly, and is able to distance herself emotionally because she knows these crazy times will inform her education career when she’s ready to make that change. Brilliant, huh?

So while having a drink last night with my friend, Linda, I was talking over this POV. I’m 32 now. Where do I want to be when I’m 35 and how about when I’m 40? And if what I’m doing right now isn’t what I want to be doing then, how can I utilize the experience I’m getting now to inform my future? And what other skills can I pick up from where I am right now to help me on my journey? Lord knows there is plenty to do these days at work, not enough people to do it, and plenty of room to take on more if we so desire. Perspective, and the wise advice of good friends, is worth its weight in gold. 
      
books, career, choices, friendship, future, happiness, relationships

What Now?

Christa Avampato

About a month ago I read Ann Patchett’s book, What Now?. It’s a reproduction of her graduation speech at Sarah Lawrence University, her alma mater. And she talks about crossroads and where you might look when considering your next step. I wonder if she realized how poignant this question would become in the year after the book’s publication. 


In the month since reading the book, I’ve been considering “What Now?” almost daily. It seems that I am at an eternal crossroads in almost every area of my life. As I talk to my friends and my family I realize that many people are doing the same thing. So I thought it might be helpful to detail the way I’m framing up this question to myself in an effort to answer it as effectively as possible. 

Career: My friend, Susan, whom I consider my career guru, is always concerned about the story that our careers are weaving. And this is especially important for us 30-somethings. We have amassed a good deal of experience and expertise and we may be teetering on a taking the plunge into a higher level position a a big company, starting our own company, or making a career switch. How are those pieces weaving together into one cohesive story? When have we been happiest in our careers? What skills are we happiest exercising and what skills do we still want to polish up? These questions help me think about what’s next for me. 

Relationships: A tough one for us single 30-somethings. We’ve likely had a number of relationships at this point. And we’ve gone through the highest of highs and lowest of lows in love. We’ve had our hearts broken, perhaps broken someone else’s heart, walked away, been walked out on. We’ve loved and lost and loved again. Some people think this is the time to find a husband or settle in to be single for a long time to come. I don’t. There’s a calm that has settled in for me around love in the 30’s. Either it works or it doesn’t. And if it doesn’t, I’ve given up the sadness and sulking of my 20’s – it must mean that I had better get back out there because that relationship just wasn’t the right one for me.

Friends: My friend, Amy, and I always talk about how important it is to get energy from our friends rather than have or energy sapped by people. My friend, Kelly, describes it as not wanting to be around people who suck our will to live. A bit dramatic? Sure. Accurate? Definitely. We have just so much time to devote to people in our lives. Make sure that each one enriches your life. It’s not easy to clean out our lives of old friendships that don’t work anymore – for one thing, we may find our lives have more holes than we’d like. But the good news is that if we do that we’ll have more time for the people in our lives who really matter to us, and you’ll be surprised what good fortune finds you when you make room in your life for it to stay awhile.

Happiness: This is the area of my life I work on the most. It effects our health, the foundation for every other area of our lives. It effects those around us. A recent study found that surrounding ourselves with happy people has enormous benefits – physically, emotionally, and spiritually. When I think about what’s next in my life, the greatest consideration I give is a decision’s effect on my happiness. And having that one guiding principle, light’s the way. 
friendship, history, movie, politics

John Adams

Christa Avampato

I don’t have HBO and missed out on the showing of John Adams. I read parts of the book by David McCullough when I was in business school. I took a class, on the Lawn, about Thomas Jefferson. Being a great Jefferson friend, then adversary, then friend again, John Adams had to be included. 


The HBO film and book bring to light the frightening prospect that Americans faced upon declaring their independence. We take this for granted today — of course we are free and independent. The film drives home a visual image of the frightening times that led up to, through, and after the Revolution. They took a “leap in the dark” as Adams said to Jefferson. You get a feeling for the contentious, volatile, and passionate personalities. And it’s a good education in politics and negotiation. 

Ben Franklin had two quotes in the second part that effected me so much that I paused the DVD to write them down: “Politics is the art of the possible” and “Diplomacy is seduction in another guise. One improves with practice.” I think about these two quotes in light of our recent elections. How President Obama focused on the possible – how he ignited people’s sense of hope with that idea – and how elegantly and patiently he played out his hand. He was the unlikeliest of candidates, by his own admission. There must have been times that he was uncertain, even scared or nervous. I imagine there must have been times when he would step back, breathe, and take another step forward. I am envy this kind of patience, and I am working on it as an area of development.

In John Adams, we see that Adams had no patience. H wanted to act swiftly and without hesitation. And he nearly missed the very allies he was looking for, even though they were standing right in front of him – the gentlemen from Virginia: Washington and Jefferson, one who would lead the battle by sword and the other by his pen. They also had this reverence for patience and humility. They had the same goals as Adams – an independent republic and governance by the people; they just went about achieving them in different ways.

The movie also makes it clear that each player has his part and I was left wondering if we’d have this nation today at all if any of those personalities had not been present. It made me re-consider the frustrations I have sometimes felt on group projects and it gave me greater perspective and appreciation for people I have sometimes terms “difficult”. Maybe we all need a John Adams in our lives to help us to value and take decisive actions when the opportunities arise. And maybe we also need a Franklin, Washington, and Jefferson to teach us the value of diplomacy in getting what we want and to help us believe in the art of the possible. Most of all the film makes the case for a group of close advisers, no matter what path we take in life.       
Chicago, exercise, friendship, health, marathon, New York City, Real Simple, running, theatre, wellness

October 14, 2001

Christa Avampato

Several months ago, I submitted a story to Real Simple Magazine to answer the question, “Tell us about one of the most important days of your life in 1500 words or less.” I’m sure a lot of people wrote about their wedding day, or their kids bring born, a graduation. I wrote about the marathon I ran in in Chicago in 2001, a month after September 11th. I was on the eve of losing my job and was heart-broken that my city had been violated so terribly. I was angry, confused, and scared. For that month after the attack, I felt alone. The Chicago marathon changed some of those feelings for me, and as it turns out it was one of the most poignant moments of my life. Here’s the story:


“In the summer of 2001, I was in Toronto on the Broadway tour of The Full Monty. I was the first person hired full-time for the tour and we had grand plans. I had been working so much that I had neglected my workout schedule and decided a big goal would help me to recommit. In the Fall the tour would be traveling to Chicago, and the Chicago marathon would be in the middle of our run.

I was a cross-country runner in high school and always interested in running a marathon. Chicago was a perfect opportunity! I recruited my friend, Mark, the drummer on the show, to run with me. He wanted to get in better shape, too, and agreed to go the distance with me. I purchased a training book that laid out an ambitious but doable schedule for us and we were off.

Long runs, short runs, speed workouts, stretching, improved eating habits. Mark was with me every step of the way, everyday, with his cheery attitude and lovely British accent. There was no way I could have gotten through the experience without him. Training in Toronto was a magical time in my life because I felt like I was regaining my sense of self. It was easy to get lost in my work, and I needed to rediscover who I was and where my life was going. This training helped me do that.

Before Chicago, we had a brief hiatus and I returned to New York City for a few weeks. I did a few touristy things I had always wanted to do. On September 7th, I ventured to the World Trade Center and had a look around. I had never been to that neighborhood before. There wasn’t anything particularly remarkable about that afternoon. I remember that it was a long, beautiful walk along the Battery. I do remember looking out over the water and feeling lucky to be there. I looked forward to coming back to New York when the tour was over.

I left for Chicago on September 9th. Mark and I were getting into top physical shape, and were glad to be reunited to finish our training in Chicago. And then September 11th happened. My brother left me a message that morning, panicked that I was in New York. I figured he heard about some kind of crime in the city on the news. I dismissed his concern as nothing more than his overprotective nature and sense of exaggeration. I tried to call him back and his cell number was busy. Odd. I tried to call my mom. Busy. Was the entire AT&T network down?

I walked to work that morning, winding my way through the theatre district in Chicago. A beautiful day. I had never been to Chicago before and was entranced by it. This was going to be a great run for us. I stopped in at the Corner Bakery to get a coffee and a danish. Could life be any better? Then I got to work.

My boss was frantically searching on the internet, listening to NPR. The office phone was ringing off the hook.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

“Two planes flew into the World Trade Center.”

“By accident?” I asked.

“I don’t think so,” he replied.

And then everything was different.

My beautiful city, the very area I had been only days before, was in chaos. We worked all day, talking with our producers, easing the fears of our company members, and trying to calm our own fears. Finally, they closed the Loop in Chicago, and we were forced to leave the theatre.

I went to visit my friends and finally saw so many of the pictures that people had been watching all day. It was even more devastating than I had imagined. I went to bed that night thinking that our nation would never be the same, that all these years I had taken our safety for granted. I was right on both counts.

Within a month, our show announced its closing and we lost our jobs. The bottom fell out of the theatre industry. But before closing down, Mark and I ran the marathon. On Saturday, October 14th, we arrived at the starting line at 6am. We dropped off our valuables at check-in and got our numbers. We had trained hard in the final weeks – running was the only time of day I felt useful. Still, I was worried that we weren’t ready. Maybe we wouldn’t be able to finish. Maybe there was just no point to anything anymore.

We lined up, the gun went off, and slowly we wound our way through the neighborhoods of Chicago. The morning was sunny, the temperature perfect. A few miles in, I found that for the first time in a month, I noticed the sunshine, and felt warm. Mark and I stopped at every water and food station to keep our energy up.

What struck me the most about that race was the generosity of the crowd lining the entire route. I hadn’t expected that. They had orange slices and popcorn, cowbells and signs to cheer us on. That crowd made me believe in the goodness of the world, in our ability to reaffirm life. 

17 miles in, my knees began to ache terribly. “Come on, Love. We can do this,” Mark said. With that vote of confidence, he gave me a Tylenol. My knee pain was gone in minutes since my blood had been pumping strong for over two hours. Mentally, I was still feeling rattled. And then Mark did something that will make me love him forever. Mark asked me, “How did you start running?”

No one had ever asked me that before. Truth was, I started running to run away from my life. My dad was sick for most of my childhood and during my teen years, the situation in my home grew dire. I suffered from insomnia, and found that long-distance running would tire me out enough to sleep peacefully for a few hours. When I was racing, I knew my family was proud of me. I also thought if I could get good enough, I might be able to go to college on a partial scholarship. There was no money in my family to send me to college.

In my junior year of high school, I sustained a terrible injury that knocked me out for the season. I was devastated. I felt broken. I had a hard time walking for a number of months and began to run on my injured foot too soon, re-injuring it. A few months later, my father passed away after a long illness. While there was more peace in the house after his passing, it was an uncomfortable silence. That spring, I ran to forget, to hide. I didn’t care if I won any event. I just wanted to exhaust myself.

After that injury, I had the goal of someday running a marathon to pay tribute to my family for having lived through a difficult time. So this was it. This marathon was for my family. And if I could make it 26.2 miles, I’d believe that finally my body and my spirit were no longer broken.

Mark was quiet the whole time. I thought he might be bored with my droning. Turns out he was just a very good listener. “I’m sure that today your dad’s proud of you,” Mark said. And I believed him.

At the 26-mile mark, the finish line was in sight. There were banners flying high, and masses of people cheering. I felt like I was flying. At that point, Mark and I had to split because they timed men and women separately. We’d reunite at the end of the race. I smiled so wide crossing that finish line that I thought my face might crack. I lost all sense of exhaustion and burden. Mark and I made it – 26.2 miles in less than four and a half hours, step by step, together.

That day, I learned more about the world than any other day before or since. I developed a special fondness for Chicago – I felt that the crowd who came out that day breathed new life into me at a time when I felt very hollow and alone. That crowd helped me to refocus on the generosity and commitment of people to a community. Despite a dark set of circumstances facing all of us, we could rediscover happiness and enlightenment and move forward. I learned that true friendship carries us in the most trying times. I’m forever indebted to Mark for his positive attitude and belief in me. Almost 10 years after my dad’s passing, I lived up to the promise to honor my family. I raced toward sunshine, and found it. And I have been alight ever since. “

The photo above can be found at: http://riseupomenofgod.files.wordpress.com/2007/05/running-man.jpg