health – Page 8 – Christa Avampato

Step 95: Write for Mental Health

April 5, 2010 Christa Avampato

A lot of people ask me how and why I find the time to write every day. After almost 3 years of keeping this blog and nearly a year and half of making sure to write every day, writing is a habit for me. I brush my teeth, eat (at least) 3 meals a day, and I write. It’s a lens for everything I do. Some days, I feel like I really get it right. And some days, I really get it wrong. Every day I’m a happier person because I’m a writer. It helps me live a better life, so I keep doing it.

For the past few months, I’ve been getting a daily email from Psychology Today. The handful of articles they send to me are all centered around a specific theme. A few weeks ago, the theme was the positive effect that writing has on our mental health. One of the articles lists some scientific studies that have been explored the link between writing and good mental health, and provides some tips on how to get your write on.

Writing’s not a magic bullet. It doesn’t cure everything, fix everything, or heal every wound. It doesn’t protect us. It can’t save us. What it can do is help us process. It can help us get by, by helping us get through. And that’s good enough reason for me to keep going.

health, insomnia, sleep

Step 82: Sweet Sleep

March 23, 2010 Christa Avampato

On my subway ride home from work I was considering this year of extraordinary living that I’m working on. Now over 80 days in, I’m thinking about what’s working, what’s not, and where I’d like to experiment. I considered some main topics of my life where I focus my energy. Health is a big one, particularly as I go through my yoga teacher training. With my new job, I’m stumbling across a variety of cool products and services every day that I’d like to share here. Books that inspire me, new music, companies who are getting it right in this economy, causes I care about are other areas. I’d like to take more time on this blog to explore these topics of interest as examples of what I find extraordinary.

Up today: sleep, one of my favorite topics. I’ve had insomnia off and on for most of my life. My mom has it, too. A few weeks ago I read an article in the New York Times about insomnia and some of its facts are startling:
1.) Over the course of a year 30%-40% of U.S. adults experience insomnia over the course of a year
2.) 10%-15% of people have chronic insomnia (like mine and my mom’s)
3.) Americans spend $24B a year (yep, billions) on sleep-related goods and services
4.) For the nearly $4B we spend per year on sleep-inducing drugs, these drugs provide only an average of 11.4 additional minutes of sleep

So what do we do to get some more shut-eye? I can’t say I’ve claimed victory over insomnia just yet, though here are some additional things I’m trying that are helping me tremendously. I share them here in the hopes that they can help you, too:

1.) I only sleep on my right side or my back. The left side of our bodies is the lunar side so leaving it open to the sky while sleeping on the solar side, the right side, is said to induce sleep. You can chalk that up to “too-groovy” science if you’d like; I did, too, until I tried it. It’s working.

2.) I try to spend 5 minutes before I go to sleep seated in a comfortable, cross-legged position on my bed, eyes closed, just breathing deeply. I thank the Divine for another day, I remember the best thing and the least best thing that happened to me that day, and I take a few moments to consider what I learned in the course of my daily activities. Some might call this prayer, others may call it simple reflection. I find it helps me let go of the day’s stresses and quiets my mind.

3.) I try to eat as soon as I get home from work, ~6:30pm, giving my body some time to digest before I toddle off to bed. Earlier this year, a friend of mine gave me the idea to eat breakfast like a queen, lunch like a princess, and dinner like a pauper. When I stick to that idea, I find it helps my sleep.

4.) I’m lucky that I live in a very sunny apartment on the top floor of my building. I have filmy curtains up over my windows to let the light in. I never bought blinds. I find being able to wake up with the natural light in my apartment is helping my sleep patterns.

5.) I’m a recovering multi-tasker. I used to take pride in being able to do many things at once, until I realized I wasn’t enjoying any of these things to the fullest. Now in my waking life I’m trying to be present wherever I am. When I’m at work, I’m at work, working. When I’m home, I’m home, working on my own independent projects. When I’m out with friends or on the phone with family or long-distance friends, I don’t multi-task or think about what I’m doing next. The people I spend my time with are my sole focus when I’m with them. This being present translates to improved sleep – when I’m in my bed, I’m only focused on how grateful I am for a place to rest and relax.

If you’re dealing with insomnia, I hope these ideas are helpful. And if you have other remedies that have helped you, I’d love to hear them! Happy sleep to all and to all a good night…

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

books, health, healthcare

Step 70: Mountains Beyond Mountains

March 11, 2010 Christa Avampato

“It is so easy, at least for me, to mistake a person’s material resources for his interior ones.” ~ Tracy Kidder, Mountains Beyond Mountains

Today I finished Tracy Kidder’s excellent book about Paul Farmer and his nonprofit, Partners in Health, a global nonprofit organization, started in Haiti, that has changed the perception of basic health care from a privilege to a social justice. Being able to have the tools to heal is a birth right, not something reserved for the wealthy and powerful. Paul Farmer has given his life for this simply articulated belief: every life matters equally.

Biography and autobiography is a fascinating thing. While we hear about someone else’s journey, we cannot help but examine our own. By viewing someone else’s place in the world, their contributions to humanity, we begin to consider and re-consider our place, our contribution.

As I left yoga class today, my head was swimming. I’ve got too much information coming at me a million miles an hour: at work, in yoga class, in my volunteer hours, from my friends and family. I’m trying to date as much as I can, and then also leave some time each day for myself. For my own thoughts and reflections. My life is bursting with, well, life.

And then I finished Mountains Beyond Mountains, and I let out a huge sigh of relief. I’m trying to just manage my own little corner of the world. Paul Farmer is out there actually saving many corners of the Earth – the most desperate, the poorest, the ones that need immediate attention before they decay entirely beyond any recognition. He is Atlas, and he will not shrug.

So give me yoga asanas, Sanskrit, sacred hindu texts, new technology, org chart after org chart, change and then more change, and any and every trouble and triumph of my many beautiful friends and family members. I can take it all in, and still feel whole and complete, still take care of my own heart and body and soul. I’ve got this.

If Paul Farmer can wrap his mind around treating TB, HIV / AIDS, and everything that comes along with that, in Haiti, Peru, Russia, Guatemala, Roxbury, and Lesotho to name just a few of the regions of the world his worked has touched, then surely I can do my fair share. After all, we are all just people, fallible, imperfect, stunning examples of grace. There is always more to do, always. And that is a beautiful realization. The Haitians say it best, “There are always mountains beyond mountains.” Let us hope that our work is never really done, and let’s celebrate that.

The image above is Paul Farmer with a young boy in Haiti at his clinic. It was taken by Maupali Das.

care, change, health, healthcare

My Year of Hopefulness – Good Grief

December 4, 2009December 7, 2009 Christa Avampato

One of the things this year that has brought me so much hope is my new ability to ask and receive help. By nature, I am not good at asking for help, though I am fantastic at providing it. A few weeks ago I told my friend, Rob, about my strong desire to make all of the change I’ve been through this year into a positive experience. I want to look back on 2009 and see that it was a decisive, magical turning point in my life. Enter, Brian.

Early on in my life, I spent a number of years in therapy to acquire tools to help me handle certain aspects of my childhood in a healthy way. They’ve served me well for 33 years and now I need some new tools to help me manage a whole new set of challenges. Brian is a social worker by training who has an incredible gift for helping people to get the most out of the lives they have to help them achieve the lives that they want. He sets about his work with the desire to help people turn their experiences and dreams into action. He is exactly the kind of person I need right now.

I began my weekly sessions with him today and because I am so open about my life’s circumstances, we were able to get to the root of our work together very quickly. It helps that I found Brian based on Rob’s strong recommendation. Because I trust Rob, I immediately trusted Brian. Because I trust myself and know how I want my life to take shape, it was easy to ask someone as knowledgeable as Brian for help. And so, it begins…

Being a forever student, I asked for homework at the end of our session. “I want you to be still and allow the feelings of loss you’ve had this year to surface. You’re so busy getting away from grief that you never really look it in the eye and see how it can actually help you.” True, and scary, and difficult, and necessary. I was so concerned about getting through my losses this year that I didn’t stop to look around and see what they really had to offer me. I just wanted to be done, and in my desire to be done, I forgot to let myself grieve. I took a “well that happened so now get on with it” approach without letting myself say “that was frightening and sad, and I’m going to miss those things and people in my life.”

Grief is difficult; suppressed grief eventually becomes unbearable and makes itself a nuisance and makes us tired. With Brian’s help, I’m going to figure out how to make grief serve me well.

business, entrepreneurship, Examiner, food, health

My latest post on Examiner.com: Interview with Founders of Code Blue

October 27, 2009December 7, 2009 Christa Avampato

Two weeks ago, I had the great fortune of spending some time with the founders of Code Blue, a recovery drink that is made for people who need to feel refreshed without caffeine, added sugar, or preservatives. In one amazing little can you’ll find an elixir that hydrates, replenishes, detoxifies and reduces inflammation. Oh, and it tastes good, too! Sweetened with agave nectar, Code Blue has a proprietary formula that contains prickly pear, Sustamine (an amino acid that promotes muscle hydration and electrolyte replacement), B12, B6, vitamin C, and potassium.

Not convinced that any drink can do all that and taste delicious? I wasn’t either so I sat down with the founders, Michael Sachs and Jeffrey Frumin, to have a little tasting of my own. Now I’m hooked!

For the full article, click here.

change, health, science

My Year of Hopefulness – Grey Matter, White Matter

October 17, 2009 Christa Avampato

I’ve been thinking a lot about aging this week. During my yoga practice I noticed that my lower back had some weird pain, just a small twinge, when I flatten out my back and lift up. I’ve never had that pain before and I don’t know what could be causing it except maybe that I’m not as young I used to be. Not that I’m old by any stretch. Not by a long shot. I just have to actually be conscious of my health now.

This weekend, my niece is visiting me. She is 21 months. I’m having a blast chasing her around. Today we went apple picking and I got to experience that joy all over again with fresh eyes. I forgot how much fun it is to be out in the fresh air, picking apples, and running up grassy hills. When we got back to my apartment tonight, I went into the bathroom to wash my face and noticed that I look shockingly younger. And it’s not that I have some magic moisturizer. I think it’s just the glow of happiness that we gain by being around a little ball of energy.

Earlier this week, I heard Jean Chatzky speak. She’s been thinking a lot about aging lately, too. And she’s been doing some research involving neuroscience. Specifically neuroscience that relates to aging. As it turns out when we are very young, our grey matter is growing, too. Literally, the number of neurons is increasing, making us, well, neurotic. So all those crazy thoughts and emotions and mood swings we have in our teens and 20’s are to be expected. Blame it on the growth of grey matter. After our 20’s, the growth of grey matter slows and the growth of white matter, the part of our brain that connects our neurons, grows well into middle age. So this process of becoming older and wiser is not a nice metaphor to make us feel better about aging. It actually has some serious science behind it. As we age we become less neurotic and more able to see connections between thoughts, ideas, and experiences.

What keeps coming to the forefront of my mind is how do I keep my body young and my brain moving forward at the same time. The greatest question of our time, I suppose. How do we make sure to keep our outlook fresh while also preserving the wisdom we’ve worked so hard to attain? How do I keep the energy of youth and take comfort in having an old soul? Perhaps it’s just a balance – holding my youth in one hand and my age in the other. There is a time for age old wisdom and a time for a new outlook. The trick is to know when to utilize each.

children, health, healthcare, nonprofit, philanthropy

My Year of Hopefulness – Children’s Health Fund

October 14, 2009December 7, 2009 Christa Avampato

Tonight my friend and colleague, Wayne, took me to the annual meeting for Children’s Health Fund (CHF). Knowing my interest in and past experience with nonprofit organizations, he knew I would be interested. What he didn’t know, and frankly what I didn’t know, is that CHF would be a perfect match for my interests on a variety of levels.

Personally and professionally, the mission of CHF to provide and advocate for quality medical care for every child resonates with me. Due to a drastic change in my family situation when I was a young child, my family lived below the poverty line and without health care for a good number of years. As an undergraduate, I did my senior economics thesis on the quality of healthcare for children below the poverty line living in West Philadelphia; the paper was based on my work-study job assisting one of the lead pediatricians at Children’s Seashore House (now a part of The Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia). Additionally, I am considering the Public and Urban Policy PhD program at The New School because of my growing interest in inner-city education, and inner-city education requires caring for the whole child, healthcare included. There are certain points in our lives when the stars perfectly align, and tonight felt like one of those nights.

I had the great honor of hearing Karen Redlener, the Executive Director, and her talented staff speak about the 2008 accomplishments of CHF. 70,000 children received medical care through 210,000 patient visits and 613 medical professional received training through CHF’s programs in 25 cities across the country. In a time when so many organizations, for-profit and non-profit, are pulling back and remaining cautious, CHF is stepping up their game.

Jane Pauley, one of CHF’s dedicated board members and someone I greatly admire, explained why CHF is continuing to push forward and grow their goals as opposed to cutting back. In this recession, fear is everywhere. And while it might at first seem inconceivable that any organization could maintain their funding during this recession much less grow it, CHF keeps looking up and reaching higher.

Why, you ask? The sound barrier. Jane Pauley told the story of the first pilot to break the sound barrier. Previously, when pilots came up against the intense shaking caused by approaching speeds close to the sound barrier, they would pull the throttle back. A fatal mistake. Chuck Yeager did something different – when his plane approached the sound barrier, shaking badly, he pushed the throttle forward, went faster, and broke the sound barrier altogether. He is literal proof that if we press on, despite adversity, there are great rewards to be had when we come out the other side. CHF and Chuck Yeager are of the same mind.

Healthcare has been front page news every day this week; it’s been at the top of the Obama agenda for months; it was a major issue in the 2008 Presidential campaign. This is healthcare’s moment; this is CHF’s moment. For over 20 years, Irwin Redlener and Paul Simon, the co-founders, along with their dedicated, passionate team have been working tirelessly on behalf of children and their right to quality healthcare. The debates are raging on Capitol Hill and across this country. The plane is shaking, and we cannot pull the throttle back. We are so close to breaking through, so close to having quality, affordable care for every American. CHF is continuing to stand its ground with dignity and grace, fortified by the simple belief that all children everywhere have a right to be healthy.

We need them to succeed in this mission. By the end of 2009, 1:5 children in the U.S. will be below the poverty line. 1:5. Of all the facts and figures we review every day, that might be the scariest I’ve heard. We can’t afford to have 20% of our nation’s children grow up poor and unhealthy. Think the healthcare of others isn’t your problem? Think again. Their future is our future. And they need us. All of us. Someone has to stand up for them if we are to have any hope at all in the future of our nation. CHF is giving it everything they’ve got, and they need more. They need us. To find out how you can help, visit the Children’s Heath Fund website.

health, home, New York City

My Year of Hopefulness – Fire

September 5, 2009 Christa Avampato

Today I was more scared that I’ve ever been. I’m blogging tonight from the a comforting home of a friend, smelling soot and ash from my laptop that is likely ruined. My apartment building caught fire today.

I’m fine. Most of my belongings are fine. At around 1:00pm I heard the floor of my kitchen crackling and the floor began to heave. I grabbed my keys and went downstairs to tell my neighbor to stop doing whatever he was doing. And then the stairwell filled with thick black smoke.

I couldn’t see anything – it was as if I had a blindfold on. I got as low as I could, scrambled down three flights, and yelled as loud as I could. Apparently my yelling helped some of my neighbors get out of the building. No smoke alarms went off, or at leas none of the ones I pass on my way downstairs.

It was a curious thing. I felt like I was flying down those stairs, as if someone was carrying me. My apartment is largely untouched, despite that most of my neighbors around me have apartments that are virtually destroyed. And just this morning I was talking about the importance of renters’ insurance and how I’d never had anything like a house fire happen to me. It’s all a bit eerie. I’m worried I may never feel at home in that apartment again and yet, I’m also very much aware that someone, somewhere was and is protecting me.

My greatest fear was that I’d pass out on the stairs, dying from smoke inhalation. And even though I got a face full of soot, I never once felt like I was suffocating. I only had the fear of suffocating. Very different. Truthfully, I came out that front door with a scratch, bump, or bruise on me. I was just fine. Only shaken.

And now I wonder if this one event is enough. As if I weren’t already painfully aware of time passing by, now I think I might be turning a corner, again, in my quest for a whole, joyful life. It seems that now I really don’t have any reason to be afraid. That there is no time like the present to grab ahold of everything I ever wanted to do or be. A few more minutes in that building, and the ending of my story could have been much different. I might not be writing this blog post tonight.

We’re all always on borrowed time. Now, it seems impossible to me that I could ever forget that. And for this borrowed time, I am most grateful. I learned today that I really don’t need any possessions I have. All I needed was my health. I just needed to be okay. The rest can be replaced. All of it. Amazing how it takes something so traumatic to truly know something so basic.

Already I feel the gloom lifting and the light settling in. Already I know that I will be more than okay, that today I begin never, ever looking back. Today I start moving forward with a new energy to build the greatest life I possibly can. And again, I feel like I am flying, as if someone is carrying me. And I know they are.

calm, health, meditation, peace, stress, yoga

My Year of Hopefulness – Stop the World, I Want to Get Off

August 6, 2009 Christa Avampato

This week has been a roller coaster. My stress level was up and down every other hour, so much so that at one point I was physically dizzy. I was joking with my friend, Denise, who was having a similar week, that my theme song should be “Stop the World, I Want to Get Off.” Then she reminded me that should be the theme song not just this week but every week.

To reduce stress and keep myself in check, I practice yoga, run, meditate, and breath. I back away from stress slowly, keeping my eye on its source so that it doesn’t sneak up on me again for a repeat performance. I think of it as a very hungry grizzly bear, something to be handled with extreme care and to diffuse by almost any means necessary.

I keep looking for ways to cut stress from my life, as if it’s some disease. The moment it rears its ugly head I want to banish it. This week I tried to appreciate stress’s occasional appearance in my life. It puts a fire under me to get something finished. In my effort to diffuse stress, I actually max out my productivity to get the job done. Stress often leads me to some of my most creative work. (I wish some scientist would do a study on stress’s effect on creativity.)

This isn’t to say that I crave stress, seek it out, or love opening up my front door to see it glaring down at me. It’s true that when it arrives, I hang my head a little low and quietly curse under my breathe “not again!” However, after a minute or two, I sit up straight, roll-up my sleeves and get to work. In the case of stress, there’s no way past it except through it. While the temptation is to step off the stress merry-go-round, there are a lot of learnings and value to be derived from its occasional visit. Our challenge is to manage through it so that it doesn’t set up camp and make itself at home in our everyday lives.

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