Earlier this week, Phin and I took our morning walk along the Hudson. The sun was shining, the boats were sailing, the birds were singing, and the wind was blowing. It took my breath away. I turned my face up to the sky, took a big full breath, and said a prayer of thanks. Thanks for this life, this day, and the opportunity to be exactly where I am right now. I’ve been carrying that feeling around with me for days and it feels amazing. Give it a try. See where it takes you and what gifts it reveals.
Over the past few weeks, a lot of people have asked me why I left my stable corporate job in favor of a freelance life. “You must be terrified,” some say. “You must be worried about how you’re going to survive,” others say. And still others tell me I have a lot of guts, balls, and courage to make that kind of leap.
I don’t think of it that way at all. I went my own way for a lot of other reasons, and one of them is because I wanted to say “Yes”, or rather “Hell yes”, to requests that come my way to do things in life that light me up.
Yesterday I spent most of the day with my friend, Alex, who is one of my very best friends from business school. She’s in town for a conference and because my time is now my own I could meet her on a Monday afternoon without worrying about a jumbled work schedule that would cut our time short. I pushed a few things aside to later this week and did a more work than usual on Sunday evening so I could be available at the time when Alex was free.
On Wednesday afternoon I’m going to the beautiful studio Bija Yoga because the Ananda Ashram invited me to attend an intimate afternoon tea exploring yoga-based meditation with David Michael Hollander and to interview him afterwards. Two weeks ago, I would have had to send my regrets and decline this invitation. Now, I can accept it with gratitude.
The fear monster has yet to find me as I make my way in this new way to work. I’m sure it’s out there, but I firmly believe that as long as I follow my true calling, as long as I keep pursuing work I love and saying yes to opportunities that bring me joy, I will be fine. I will actually be far more than fine. I will begin to deeply understand what it means to truly live, to be present in each moment. And that is its own gift, its own reward.
I recently saw this video on KarmaTube of the acceptance speech Mr. Rogers gave when he was presented with an Emmy for Lifetime Achievement. In it he asks all of us to take 10 seconds of silence to think of all of the people who helped us be who we are. Though it was a short and sweet speech, there is a strength and emotion in it that leaves everyone who watches it with a profound sense of gratitude. Have a look and follow his example. You’ll be glad you did.
Corporate executive who say stupid things are making it easy for us to set sail on our own venture adventures. While I am angered by their behavior, I’m thankful for our ability to turn the situation around and invest in our own business ideas. When things are falling apart (corporate culture), pieces are often falling into place (new start-ups.)
However, my latest example of corporate idiocy is worth a detailed explanation for the lesson it teaches us about where and with whom to spend out time. This is a story that has to be told. Just when I thought I had seen and heard it all when it comes to the idiotic behavior of some (though certainly not all) corporate executives, another one comes along and delivers another shocking display of poor behavior. Women of the world, brace yourselves for this one.
I recently had the opportunity to hear Jennifer Hyman, Co-Founder of Rent the Runway, on a panel of entrepreneurs. Rent the Runway rents the latest women’s special occasion fashions for a fraction of the purchase price. A passionate, intelligent, and creative woman, Jennifer explained that her company is about more than fashion. It’s about empowering women to create extraordinary lives while looking and feeling their best. She explained that the mission of Rent the Runway was so compelling that she and her co-founder were the first female entrepreneurs funded by Bain Capital.
The corporate executive moderating the panel saw this incredible accomplishment as an opportunity to put his ignorance on display for all to see. His response to Jennifer’s story?“Was that Bain pre- or post-Romney?”
And the entire audience (made up largely of the corporate executive’s employees) went silent. No one knew what to say, where to look, nor how to feel. Everyone’s face just dropped. Was he trying to funny? Was he using humor to veil his own insecurities about female entrepreneurs? After spending 30 minutes prior to the panel discussing the value of a growth mind-set to large corporations, why would he insult a guest he invited to speak on the topic? Did he feel threatened by her confidence and ingenuity? (Incidentally, Jennifer was the only female on the panel and the only one to receive this kind of comment from the moderator.)
Jennifer handled the situation with grace, the way I believe she must handle every business situation she faces. Still, my anger was up, way up, until I realized the tremendous gift that this corporate executive delivered to everyone in the audience. Why would anyone continue to work hard for him every day? Why would anyone pledge their loyalty to someone whose ignorance causes him to behave so poorly?
You could see everyone’s wheels turning with the idea, “I need to get out of here and follow the lead of the entrepreneurs on the panel.” And all I could think in response was, “Yes. Yes you do. Give your own business ideas a fair shot at success. Leap!”
This executive is already getting the result he deserves – a complete loss of loyalty from his team; he just doesn’t know it yet. But he will. It won’t be the first time a suit, stuck in his ways, totally misjudged the future of our economy and I have a feeling it won’t be the last. Investors, place your bets. I know which way I’m going. Do you?
Here’s my one big thank you for the week: thank goodness we don’t know how difficult some things are until we’ve already committed to seeing them through.
And I’m glad about that. I felt the same way about college and graduate school, about managing Broadway shows, about changing careers. If I had an inkling about how difficult any of these would be, if I had the correct sense of how steep the upward climb would be, I might have shied away from the opportunity. Instead, once committed, I was all in.
I feel this way about my advanced yoga teacher training at ISHTA Yoga, too. I didn’t know how many requirements were needed to complete the program in a few short months and just how and when and with whom those requirements could be completed. I worked out a schedule to complete all of the work, and for a brief second I held my breath. How would I get all of this done by the end of July?! A quiet voice that surprised me as much as delighted me calmly said, “Get to work.”
And then I began to laugh at myself. “Woe is me! I have to go to all of these wonderful yoga classes with these tremendously gifted teachers and learn from them? Wow, my life is really tough!” This training is a blessing. 2 weeks in and already my practice and teaching is changing in leaps and bounds. I feel my confidence and grace glowing and growing. The world looks so different through ISHTA-colored glasses. The opportunity is everywhere. All I need to do is show up with the intention to receive.
The latest installment of my thank you notes in a collective format. I’ve also begun to send out my individual thank you notes – whenever possible, I try to send out these notes recorded here on this blog to the actual person, company, or organization they’re dedicated to. I’ll let you know if I hear back from any of them.
Thank you, ISHTA Yoga, for opening the way forward on a new teaching path for me. And for having a sense of humor about it.
Thank you, New York Lottery, for climbing so high that even I, someone who NEVER buys lottery tickets, found it within myself to dig out a dollar and a dream all in the name of more money for education (and the potential to win a whole big pile o’ cash.) And thanks to my mom for the text reminder to do so.
Thank you, man from out west who sat next to me on the subway. He offered his seat to a stranger (without being shamed into it), took up only the 1 seat he paid for, and when people looked at him skeptically he replied, “You city folk really confuse me.” Poor guy. If he’s confused by us on the subway, I can’t imagine what he thinks of us when we get above ground.
Thank you, Sesame Street, for proving that profound life lessons can come from colorful furry monsters who never leave their block. My favorite Sesame lesson: take care of your community and it will take care of you.
Thank you, writer friend Katherine Jenkins, who wrote a beautiful book entitled Lessons from the Monk I Married that shows courage may just be the most valuable resource when it comes to building a life we’re proud of. (Review forthcoming on this blog next month!)
Thank you, Suzanne Collins, for not being afraid to invent a new story for the young adult audience, even in the aftermath of Harry Potter which most people assumed could never be topped.
Another leap I’m attempting to make this year is to focus on humor writing. Comedy writing is tough for me – witness my crash and burn sketch writing class at UCB in which only 2 of my 8 sketches were laughable. One of those funny sketches is still kicking around in my head, and it was drawn from real life almost verbatim, so I began to wrestle with the idea of humor essays rather than sketches. An equally tough endeavor, though more my speed.
As practice, I’m trying out this new weekly post format inspired by Jimmy Fallon’s Thank You Notes segment, which is one of my favorite late night bits. One happy side effect of this endeavor is that it’s helping me to see the humor and comedy in everyday life. When possible, I will actually write and send these thank you notes. I’ll let you know if I get any responses. Let’s give it a whirl for a few weeks and see how it goes.
Thank you, Broadway theatre, for whittling down my bank account while staging revivals that remind me of the originals I saw in my youth. I needed a reminder of my age.
Thank you, GOP, for filling the gap that Grandma the Clown left in the wake of his retirement from The Big Apple Circus.
Thank you, Modern Family, for reminding me that my family is not the craziest version of 5 people living under one roof.
Thank you, WordPress.com, for adding a “Pin It” sharing button. I now have one more much-needed way to spend even more time down the social media rabbit hole.
Thank you, Rush Limbaugh, for crossing the line into inappropriate commentary (again) and angering American women. Finally, your sponsors are coming to their senses which may lead to your show being pulled. We can only hope.
Thank you, army of weather predicting groundhogs. Thanks to your inability to agree on how many more weeks of winter we should have, nature gave up altogether and moved on to Spring.
Thank you, corporate America, for being such an insufferable employer that 1.9 million people handed you a pink slip in January and taking the reigns of their own futures. This is being hailed by economists as “good news.” I couldn’t agree more!
Anne Lamott recently wrote a very personal piece in Reader’s Digest about the birth of her grandson to her teenage son and his girlfriend. Lamott is my favorite author because of her ability to be so raw, honest, and hilarious all in the same breath. Her voice is so unique and she doles out advice on writing and life with such generosity that sometimes I think she’s personally mentoring me through my own adventures on the page. This article about her grandson had all of her signature wit, charm, heartbreak, and hope.
Half way through the article she discusses the two slogans that kept her going in the anxious months leading up to the birth of her grandson – “Figure it out is not a good slogan” and “Ask, and allow – i.e., ask God, and allow grace in.” I love them both equally, though that second slogan rang so true for me at this moment.
A few days ago, I began reading the book The Wishing Yearon recommendation from my friend, Katherine. The Wishing Year recounts a year in the life of a woman who consciously and passionately wishes for three changes in her life – a man to love, a house, and deep spiritual healing. The book also explore the science and art behind wishing and intention. It’s inspired me so much that I’m taking up its example in my own life. Why not wish, and then do in equal amounts.
Lamott’s advice dovetails perfectly with The Wishing Year. In many ways, she is saying the same thing, but with a very poignant nuance. We can wish, ask, and work toward a goal and a dream, but if we don’t allow grace in, if we don’t allow ourselves to then realize the opportunity that is then laid down in front of us, then the question and the wish will do no good.
If we ask nature, the Universe, God, to be on our side, to work with us, then we have to allow that work to happen. We have to be open to possibility, to a change in course, to a new way of thinking and being. And if we can go that, if we can allow change to enter our lives with grace, then we will truly begin to see the magic unfold in our lives and in the lives of those around us. We will realize our own potential, and it will be greater than we ever imagined.
“Lasting change happens when people see for themselves that a different way of life is more fulfilling than their present one.” ~ Eknath Easwaran
I’ve been thinking a lot about lasting change. We’re much more often faced with changes that happen in fits and spurts, drop by drop. On occasion we get a chance to experience rapid, dramatic change. It throws us for a loop, confounds and confuses us, until we again find our way back to shore footing. But that rediscovered shore footing is often on different ground.
It’s often said that it takes 30 days of consistent, consecutive effort to create a new habit or break an old one. We’ve been in this tough economy, with its sometimes crushing and sometimes liberating lessons, for over 4 years. Our way of thinking about our future has been radically transformed. It’s taught me that an income earned from one source is the definition of instability. It’s taught me that bringing new people into our lives, having new experiences, and consistently pushing ourselves to learn something new are the surest ways of staying relevant in changing times. It’s taught me that my future is safest in my own two capable hands.
I think about my life pre-December 2007 and my life now. I’m shocked by the difference in me and in the world. And though these intervening years have been challenging on so many levels, I’d go back and live them all over again, exactly the same way, because I’m more in love with life now than I have ever been before. Life’s tough, but we’re tougher, and better off for having learned the hard lessons of this time. We’ve learned to value the now, in every moment.
In any transition, we often focus on the end goal. In my year of leaping into full-time entrepreneurship, I’ve spent a lot of time planning how to successfully complete that transition: personal financial planning, long-term strategy for Compass Yoga, funding, and partnerships that will grow our programming. But there’s an often overlooked detail when we make any change – we need to mind our exit.
Exits can be fast or slow. They can be in phases or a jump with both feet in the air at once. They can be handled with style and grace or they can be botched with anger, disappointment, and resentment. I’m not sure of the speed or pace of my exit from corporate life just yet, but I know I want it be graceful and grateful.
I learned a lot in journey along the corporate road. I worked with some very smart people who spent a lot of time investing in me, as a person and as a professional. My leaving has very little to do with them and everything to do with me – I need to do the work of my life and that work lies in a different direction. There’s no excuse for anything less than grace when I close that door for the very last time.
I thought a lot about endings as Phin and I took our final 2011 walk through Central Park on December 31st. It was a 3-hour venture through the North Woods, and no matter how long the walk, Phineas always wishes it could be longer. It was sunny and mild, ringing in at 55 degrees. Despite all of 2011’s troubles, it found a way to leave a good last impression.
And if a year as tough as 2011 can do that, then so can we.
Christa Avampato 