Category: happiness

happiness, harmony, yoga

Step 83: More Right Moments

Christa Avampato

Tonight I spent 3 hours at Sonic Yoga – 1.5 hours practicing and 1.5 hours observing. At the start of my practice, my yoga teacher, Stacey, asked us to consider moments in our lives that were completely right, when we felt everything in our lives was working together in harmony. “I bet all your chakras were aligned and that you weren’t trying too hard. Right just happened,” she said.

I thought about a few long walks in the park when I couldn’t help but smile at how lucky I am to have the life I have. I thought about how my body literally flew down the stairs to get me out of my apartment building during the fire so that I wouldn’t be harmed. When I ran the Chicago marathon and saw the finish line up ahead after 26.2 long miles, I could feel myself running outside of my own body, every cell working together in harmony. The first time I held my niece, Lorelei, or when I sat on the steps of my apartment building with our dog, Sebastian, both of us feeling the wind in our ears, everything felt like it was as it should be. Most recently, I thought about a few moments during my birthday party last weekend when I looked around and saw so many faces I love, all together.

“A yoga practice is about helping us to have more right moments in our lives,” Stacey said as she closed the class. Now isn’t that a beautiful goal for a practice?

The image above is not my own. I can be found here.

experience, happiness

Step 76: Other Ways of Watching

Christa Avampato

“The eyes are no good for watching. They stray too much.” ~ Madame Armfeldt in A Little Night Music as played by Angela Lansbury

During A Little Night Music, Madame Armfeldt is talking to her granddaughter, Fredricka, who is trying to see the night smiling at her. Madame Armfeldt explains the failings of the eyes to actually watch because they get too distracted. The world is full of things that are bright and shiny that take our attention elsewhere. If we want to see, really see, things of true value we must go beyond their appearance to get at their essence. What raises our long-term happiness level, and the happiness level of those around us? Those are the things of true value.

My yoga teacher, Johanna, has been trying to get us to see that nothing we are looking for is outside. It’s all “in here”. The way is in the heart and the soul. Think what you want about this groovy sentiment, I’m beginning to believe that Jo is on to something. As I strolled through the park today on my birthday morning walk, I focused on how the things I was seeing and hearing and experiencing were in communion with my internal feelings of well-being and happiness. I ceased to see myself as separate from my surroundings, and saw myself as just a component of them. In this new state, I could see, not with my eyes but with my heart, that the world is always smiling at me.

So on the occasion of my 34th birthday, I do have a wish to make as I blow out the candles on my delicious cupcake (after all, what’s a birthday without cupcakes?) – I wish to begin seeing, watching, in new ways. I want to learn how to be in the world with consciousness in a way that does not weigh me down, but rather in a way that makes me lighter. I wish for a continued growth of gratitude and gladness, and the opportunity to bring that sense of gladness to others. I wish to be present in every moment, watching and communicating with the heart.

The image above is not my own. It can be found here.

choices, happiness, yoga

Step 36: Following Hearts

Christa Avampato

My friend, Amanda, wrote a gorgeous post on her blog about following our hearts and living the lives we want to live. These sayings have been uttered so often that it’s easy to hear them and just roll out eyes in that “oh yeah, easy for you to say” way. Amanda, in her infinite writing wisdom, added two quotes to her post that greatly heightened the meaning of these sentiments for me.

“Trust your heart. You’re a deserving craftsman. It would never betray you.” ~ The character of Seymour, writing to his younger brother, Buddy, in Seymour, An Introduction by JD Salinger

“In my dream, the angel shrugged and said, ‘If we fail this time, it will be a failure of imagination,’ and then she placed the world gently in the palm of my hand.”~ Brian Andreas

I’ve never heard the quote from JD Salinger before. The quote from Brian Andreas is one of my favorites from his art work. They both share the beautiful sentiment that within our hearts is every answer we will ever need. Do we have enough confidence and faith in our heart’s judgment to follow these answers? Can we trust our imagination to the extent that we place the entirety of our future in its capable grasp?

Yesterday, I read Amanda’s post through misty eyes. I have been wrestling with some choices about where to take this one wild and precious life of mine. My mind loves weighing options, playing out the scenarios to make the best choice possible. This one choice that I’m currently considering is giving me pause. My heart and mind are not in agreement, and I’m not sure why.

But if I sit still long enough, just breathe and be, move through my asanas during my yoga practice, my heart sings. It knows which way to go. I just needed Amanda, JD Salinger, and Brian Andreas to remind me of its strength and competence.

The image above is a work by Brian Andreas.

clarity, decision-making, happiness, opportunity, simplicity

Step 10: A Place to Go

Christa Avampato

“I learn by going where I have to go.” ~ Theodore Roethke in the Poet’s Corner at The Cathedral of St. John the Divine

I keep a wipe board in my apartment that tracks my to-do’s for my projects. This confined space helps me to sort out where and how I’m spending my time and energy. It’s a helpful, simple tool that keeps me on track by giving me a very concrete visual of my priorities. It tells me where I have to go to create the kind of life I want.

In 2010, this chart has been heavily influenced by Innovation Station, my after-school project with Citizen Schools. With Citizen Schools, citizen teachers build the curriculum backwards, starting with the construction of the final project, called a “WOW”, and working the lessons backwards with the final project always in mind. Rather than using the forward-working paradigm of “what comes next?”, I have to start with “what needs to happen right before the WOW?” I decided to try this approach with my wipe board, too. On the far right side I wrote down the goal, and then only included the projects in my life right now that work toward that goal.

This exercise helped in a number of ways:

1.) I have some projects in my life that aren’t serving that goal, and they didn’t make it to the wipe board. These projects have value; they just aren’t the right projects for me given my goals and in comparison to the other projects I have. I also noticed some very clear holes – things I needed to be doing, places I needed to be going, that I didn’t realize before this process.

2.) I breathed a great big sigh of happiness to see how the projects all fit together and support one another. A cohesive plan breeds confidence and conviction.

3.) Having the plan laid out gave me a lot of energy. I spent a lot of time carefully thinking through options and allowing them to play themselves out in my mind while I made some key decisions. With this plan laid out, I freed up the energy that I was using in the decision-making process.

4.) The plan provides me with more down time to be with people. These projects lay out the main interests of my life, and by knowing those interests, I can strengthen relationships I already have and start new ones based on commonalities. I am always inspired by feats that people can accomplish through collaboration. Having a very clear sense of what we want to accomplish helps us to meet others who have those same goals – our kindred spirits.

5.) The wipe board gives me a place to go. There will always be new opportunities and new projects that will appear. It can be hard to say no. With a clear sense of what I want, I can go to the board and see where the new opportunity fits. If it doesn’t fit, then the decision process is made that much easier. It’s an effective sorting method.

Clarity of mind gives us a wonderful sense of freedom, a radiance that we can feel and that others can see. By working toward clarity, decisions become easier. The tough work of getting to clarity is well-worth the reward of simplicity.

gratitude, happiness, New York City, weather

My Year of Hopefulness – The Whisper of Snow

Christa Avampato

And the snow fell and fell and fell. Some people will hunker down during a snow storm, watch a movie, play a board game, read. And some of us will run out into that snow and feel proud that they didn’t let the weather get them down. The people in this latter group are insane, and I’m one of them. I made my way down to 36th Street for dinner with my friend, Monika, last night and then got across town in record time (underground) to my friend, Cindy’s, holiday party.

Cindy’s parties are always an interesting mix of guests, and I am guaranteed to meet someone (or 2 or 3 someones) new every time. With the company of Anderson Cooper’s lead cameraman to a talented animator to one of the head stylists at Bumble & Bumble, there is never a shortage of cool stories, laughter, and delicious cocktails and food. I like to bring someone along every time to further liven up the mix. This time I brought my good pal, Jeff, who is always very outgoing and loves meeting new people as much as I do. After a good number of hours of merriment, I decided to head back out into the snow and get home.

I stepped outside into a world of sparkly white. The snow was breath-taking. Maybe the first snow fall always has a magical quality to it, though last night’s snow seemed to be something special. I never saw it glisten that way (and no, it wasn’t the candy cane eggnog I had at Cindy’s!) It felt like I was in a movie, as if a painter had taken a brush to my life and made everything around me glow.

So how would I get home in this foot of snow? At that time of night the subway is slow and I would have needed 2 transfers to get home anyway (getting across town in New York is rarely easy!) Cabs were getting stuck and spinning out everywhere I looked. Buses were no where to be found. My mom said to me that when she lived in New York, her best mode of transportation was a good pair of shoes. I had two inches heeled boots, and still I thought of her quote and didn’t think twice about making the hike on-foot. On a nice day, it would be a good, relaxing walk. In the snow at night, it would require a little more willpower and caution. I was up for it.

I skipped over and through the snowbanks, wound my way along the 79th Street passage through Central Park, and the whole time thought about how beautiful this city is. It was so quiet that I could actually hear the snow falling. The sky had a pink tint to it. The cold wind had died down. I felt a huge wave of gladness.

It was my next to last night in New York for 2009 since I’ll be leaving for the holidays in Florida on Monday. This snowstorm was a little gift for me, and I could swear I heard the world whispering, “Yes, you made it. You can file away 2009 as a year of experiences that opened your life to new possibilities, a year when so much fell away so that you could find new ways forward. This year, in a time of great loss, you received the opportunity to re-imagine and re-craft every area of your life. Put this chance to good use.”

When the subways are crowded, the streets are jammed, and the noise reaches levels you never thought were possible, New York can frustrate even those of us who love it most. It’s times like last night, in that beautiful, mystical snowfall, that remind of how much of a home this city is for me, how much of a home it will always be for me. There is a certain crackle of life that lives here, and I feel blessed to live among it.

The image above is not my own. It was taken by Seth Wenig/AP.

Christmas, gifts, happiness, holiday

My Year of Hopefulness – Treasure Hunting

Christa Avampato

Life is a treasure. The deeper you dig, the more you will find. You’ve got to get underneath, find out what brings about true joy, what opens our hearts, what inspires us to go further than we ever thought possible. In December I always feel compelled to keep on digging right through to the new year. The lights that fill New York’s streets at this time of year match the light I always find in my own life during the holidays.

December always seem to fly right by me. I blink and it’s New Years Eve. Maybe it’s the jobs I’ve had. Maybe it’s that I always seem to be in the middle of a personal project during this time. It could be the incessant countdown that seems to get faster with each passing day this month. Most likely, I think it’s the fact that time flies when we’re enjoying ourselves, and this is my very favorite time of year.

I always find that my sense of hope is renewed in December, too. My faith in the benefits of hard work, determination, and steadfast empathy is met with continual new opportunities for learning and personal growth this month. I often find myself skipping down the street, driven by an overwhelming sense of gratitude for my good fortune. In other words, it feels like Christmas.

This year, I’m making a pact with myself to seek out the treasures in my life, hold them up to the light, and give thanks for each of them in a way that I never have before. To spend as much time with friends and family as I possibly can. I’ll forgo a little more sleep than usual. I’ll take long walks, even though it’s cold outside, so I can soak up every bit of cheer I can find. I’ll sing and dance and groove to my favorite Christmas tunes. I’ll watch the specials on TV, bake cookies, trim a tree or two, and donate time and money to causes I care about. That’s my gift to myself this year: the treasure of joy, and as much of it as I can muster.

curiosity, happiness

My Year of Hopefulness – The Gift of Curiosity

Christa Avampato

“You can’t always be happy, but you can almost always be profoundly aware and curious, and reap the psychological and physical benefits. Thankfully, curiosity is not a fixed characteristic. It’s a strength we can develop and wield on the path to a more fulfilling life.” ~ Todd Kashdan

This quote has special meaning for me today. I learned about some unkind things that someone in my life has been spreading around about me, things that simply are just not true. This isn’t someone I trusted, or someone I even liked for that matter, but it is someone I see every day and who has some impact on my life. At first I was a little shocked to learn this information, though now that I reflect on this person a bit more, it all makes sense really.

In the first few minutes of learning this information I was very unhappy. If someone drags my name through the mud because of something I actually did, then I’ll take the consequences. To say things that just aren’t true is another thing entirely. And then after a few minutes, I had a good laugh at myself. I had turned the corner to curiosity. Why would she do this? What could she possibly hope to gain from it?

Life throws us curve balls all the time, things we don’t understand, things that make us anxious and weary. I’m finding that the trick is to develop one good question from each difficult situation, one lesson learned that we can hang our hat on and use going forward. Curiosity dissipates unhappiness and anger, it frees us up to be the kind of people we’d like to be, to live the kind of lives we’d like to live. It provides us with possibilities.

education, future, goals, happiness, passion, success

My Year of Hopefulness – Choosing the way

Christa Avampato

“To find out what one is fitted to do, and to secure an opportunity to do it, is the key to happiness.” ~ John Dewey

October has shaped up to be a fantastic month for me. A few dips here and there, though for the most part it’s been about exploring new opportunities, meeting new people, and getting a better handle on how my life is moving forward. In other words, I am deep into the first piece of John Dewey’s statement: “finding what one is fitted to do”.

Tonight I had dinner with my friend, Richard, and we were talking about this exploration. I suppose one of the reasons we’ve become such good friends is that we are natural explorers. This is true of so many of my friends, nearly all of them have gone down many different paths, learning a lot along the way, and eventually finding their groove. I’m the late bloomer in the bunch. It took me a long time before I realized how that I could build a life around the idea of a securing a quality education for every child, how adamantly I believe in Frederick Douglass’s idea that “It is easier to build strong children than to repair broken men.” I am a product of this idea and I am now at a point where I’ve been in the world enough to be able to fight for this principle in a thoughtful, compelling way.

So now the trick is the how, John Dewey’s second piece of the puzzle: how (and where) to secure an opportunity to do what I am fitted to do. On the one hand, I am fortunate that my passion has many different avenues for me to pursue. I could go back to a nonprofit that has a mission to help children. I could teach. I could do research in this area. I could pursue an advanced degree (and there are several types of degrees that would be suitable). I could go into government work. I could simply volunteer as I have been doing for many years. I could write. In actuality, I could do all of these things, and likely will. On the other hand, how will I make a choice among all of these options? What is the right way forward for me?

One thing that has amazed me is that it’s the first part, figuring out what we’re fitted to do, what we’re passionate about, that takes the most time and effort. Once that piece is firmly planted in our minds and hearts, and we begin to share it with others, opportunities to do what we love abound. People rally around us, support our dreams and efforts. Somehow, the way opens once we know what way we want to take.

This abundance didn’t hit me until I was speaking to Richard tonight. I was telling him what I was interested in and why. I am in the midst of researching doctoral programs in public policy and there is one in particular that just feels right, that lights a fire in my eyes and heart, the same way that the Darden School was the absolute right fit for my MBA. There are others that seem fine as well, though I just can’t seem to feel as excited about them as I am about this other program. And then a little panic set in. What if they don’t take me? Then how will I ever get this work done that I now know I am fitted to do?

I thought about this on the subway ride home, actually I worried about it. And I played it through in my mind. What if this program didn’t want me? What if the other programs didn’t fit quite right? What if this degree just wouldn’t be possible for me to get? I felt this way when applying to Darden, too. The only other program I applied to was Tuck, and after visiting Tuck, I knew that wasn’t the right fit, so Darden quickly became the only place I could or would or wanted to go. On my drive back to DC from Charlottesville, after my interview and visit to grounds, after I had fallen deeply in love with Darden and the prospect of being a student there, I wondered what I would do if I didn’t get in. I decided to do one of two things: I’d join the Peace Corps, also a lifelong dream of mine, or I’d move right back to New York where I knew I eventually wanted to make my home. That’s it. Very simple.

As luck would have it, I was accepted at Darden on December 1st. I distinctly remember jumping for joy, accepting over the phone, and breathing a great big sigh of relief. I got exactly what I wanted. So now, I’m at that same point again. What will I do if this one program that seems perfect for me doesn’t take me? Now there are many more options for this new road – maybe I’ll teach full-time, go back into nonprofit work, start my own business, write, and continue to be an active volunteer. Maybe New York City government will prove to be the way for me. Yes, I confirmed, I have lots of options.

I emerged from the subway a few hours ago with a lighter heart. John Dewey would smile knowing that there are so many opportunities I could secure to go about doing my life’s work. After all, he is the one who said we climb mountains so that we can see other mountains. From where I now stand, there are so many peaks in my landscape that a valley is scarcely able to be seen. With so many routes to happiness, the work for me now lies not in the finding but in the choosing. And that in itself is reason to smile.

The photo above is not my own. It can be found here.

change, happiness, New York City, story

My Year of Hopefulness – Stories We Tell Ourselves and Others

Christa Avampato

Today was not a good day in the ordinary sense. I had a conversation that disturbed me on a very deep level, one that really made me question who I am and what I’m about and what I mean to do in this world. Luckily a friend of mine set me in the right direction – he helped me see that this conversation is a very good thing for me. It’s helping me to realize the next step in my life in a very clear way.

After work I went with my friend, Col, to the West Village’s The Bitter End to see The Moth, a group that does a themed open-mike night of storytelling. After my day, I needed to laugh and lose myself in someone else’s stories and The Moth provided just the release I needed. 10 brave souls took to the stage, after their names were drawn from a hat, and discussed their stories that revolved around the theme of disguises. They told us about experiences where they had to pretend to be someone they’re not to accomplish something – to earn a paycheck, to meet someone whom they wanted to meet, to realize who they truly are. They were all poignant and hilarious, and Sara Barron, the MC, is a brilliant comic.

Traveling home, I kept thinking about the stories from The Moth that revolved around people who put on a mask, sometimes literally, and then put down that mask to be who they really are. For some, it took an unhappy situation, like the one I experienced today, to make them truly embrace who they are. They had to be forced to pretend to be someone else before they could actually find their own true voices. And in their own true voices, they were able to tell their own stories, their own truths. It was exactly the lesson I needed to transform a tough personal day into a day of learning.

death, dying, gratitude, happiness, peace, religion

My Year of Hopefulness – Trinity Churchyard

Christa Avampato

A happy side effect of losing close family members at a young age is that I never feel uncomfortable with the concept of death. I often talk to my relatives who have crossed-over. I think about them all of the time; I find reminders of them everywhere; I feel their presence in my daily life. On and off in my life I’ve done volunteer work in nursing homes, with hospice, and in critical care facilities in hospitals. It’s something I’m considering doing again – there’s so much to be learned about life from the dying.

Because of my comfort with death and dying, I find comfort in places like cemeteries. They’re such peaceful places. On my lunch break yesterday, I went to do an errand and went past Trinity Churchyard, this tiny plot of land that sits at the corner of Wall Street and Broadway. It’s a small green haven among the concrete and constant construction in the area. It is the final resting place for a number of famous New Yorkers, Alexander Hamilton being the most iconic figure there. I couldn’t resist stepping inside for a moment. Once I crossed through the gate, the noise of the city seemed to dissipate. I don’t know how that happened. The sunshine seemed a little brighter, the air felt a little sweeter. It actually felt homey.
Much to my relief, many other people were seated on the benches that are dotted along the cemetery paths. People enjoying their lunch, talking with friends, sitting quietly, thinking. It was a sweet thing to see the living and the dead co-exist in such an easy harmony. It’s exactly what a final resting place should be.
I felt drawn to take a look into Trinity Church as well. I felt like I was peeking into someone’s home. It’s a fairly small church when compared to the likes of St. Pat’s or St. John the Divine, but it feels warmer, like a place where you could take your problems and worries and ask for help. In the main hall, I felt like I was so close to something holy, a kind and empathic ear.
In the back of the church there is a small chapel meant for quiet contemplation and prayer. There was a man at the front weeping, softly. He must be going through a very hard time. I lit one of the candles just outside the chapel and took a seat in the back. I thanked God for helping me through these last few weeks, offered up my immense gratitude for my wonderful friends and family who have been so supportive and helpful.
Just before I left, I found myself saying a little prayer for the man at the front of the chapel. I don’t know him, will probably never know him. I don’t know what he’s going through but it must be something very difficult. I prayed that the same strength I’ve found in the past few weeks will touch him as well, that somehow the strength and positive outlook that’s been such a gift to me will find its way to him also. With all of the abundant blessings in my own life, I felt that it was the least I could do.