Category: kindness

change, kindness

Beginning: How to Be an Effective Rebel

Christa Avampato

“If you want to be a rebel, be kind.” ~ Pancho Ramos Stierle

James Dean. Steve Jobs. Richard Branson. These are rebels, and so often we think that to live up to this title we have to be difficult, unruly, and surly when necessary. This week I wrote about a few other rebels: Gandhi and Martin Luther King. These men are a wholly different kind of rebel. They believed in kindness and peace, and their power to overcome. And it’s this belief that kindness and peace in all circumstances will win the day, even if that day would be a day they’d never see, that has allowed others to pick up where they left off.

Gandhi and King were unusual for their times. Many people around them were rising up and raising their fists in the process. They understood the sentiments, but they chose to fight in new and different ways. In the process of rebelling against unjust systems and social constructs, they also rebelled against the common ideology of the day believing fully that their methods of peace would build steady, sustainable progress. And they turned others, millions of others, to their way of thinking and living. They inspired people the world over in their efforts and continue to inspire many today.

Kindness builds legacy and when it’s all said and done, legacy is everything.

dogs, generosity, gifts, kindness, New York City

Beginning: A Downpour, the Kindness of NY Strangers, and a Community of Dachshunds

Christa Avampato

A photo I snapped of Friday's storm before a stranger rescued us with his umbrella
Phineas and I got caught in the downpour on Friday night. I had gone to pick him up from his first time at daycare and the raging storm took us by surprise as we made our way home. We were both crouched underneath an awning outside Cafe Frida, my favorite Mexican restaurant in our neighborhood. Phineas hates the rain, as most dachshunds do.

Just inside the restaurant a couple watched us through the window, looking on us with a great deal of pity. The man got up from the table and opened the door.

“We have two little dachshunds at home and we know how much they hate the rain. Take our umbrella so you can get your little guy home,” he said.

“But I can’t take your umbrella. How will I get it back to you?” I asked him.

“You don’t have to. We’re going to stay here until the rain stops and we’ve got plenty of umbrellas at home. Really – take it,” he said.

I thanked him profusely and Phineas in his tired / scared state gave him a smooch. Away we went. People often think of New Yorkers as pushy, arrogant, and self-centered. And maybe we are or can be from time to time. Though I must say that after 12 years of living in this city on and off, I’ve had more kind, generous, and selfless interactions right here in New York than I have anywhere else in the world. This was one of those times.

The wind whipped us around a bit on the way home and the umbrella didn’t keep us completely dry but it did a good enough job to get home before the next batch of really heavy rain started pelting down. The umbrella partially busted along the way, but I just didn’t have the heart to toss it in the trash can at the corner of our block. I’m going to hang on to it for a bit as a reminder of just how much good there is flowing through the streets of New York, at least if you have a dachshund in hand.

generosity, happiness, impact, kindness

Beginning: The Secret to a Happy Life is to Be Good And Do Good

Christa Avampato

yvonnedevilliers.com
“Aim above morality. Be not simply good. Be good for something.” ~ Henry David Thoreau via Tiny Buddha

This week I’ve been preoccupied with and writing about a mission-driven life and the power of making our own personal missions the center of our work. A fulfilling, meaningful life requires a cause, a passion, a center. It’s important to be a good person – to be kind and generous and grateful. It’s equally as important to do something powerful with that goodness – to be helpful and inspiring and gracious.

I was on an elevator recently and someone gave my yoga mat bag a funny look. “Is that a weapon?” the man asked me. “Yes,” I replied. “It’s a weapon for goodness.” And it is.

The goal of my teaching is to help everyone I ever come in contact with, on and off the mat, to become the very best version of who they are. I’m at my best when I’m teaching yoga. There’s a certain ease and gladness that fills me up when I have the opportunity to pass on a gift that has been passed on to me by many patient and loving hearts. The very least I can do, in their honor, is to offer up the same gift to those who need it most.

Teaching yoga is my do good moment. What’s yours?

animals, dogs, kindness

Beginning: My Pup, Phineas, and the Homeless

Christa Avampato

Phineas happily rolling around on the grass in Central Park shortly before meeting his new friend
I took Phineas out for two long walks on Saturday and Sunday. The warming effects of Spring are underway and he’s more than happy to get outside for as long as possible and stretch those legs after a long and too-cold winter. He’s felt cooped up for too long; we both have.

One our way back home, Phineas stopped on the sidewalk right in front of a homeless man who was asking for change. I didn’t have any to give him though Phineas was intent on sitting with him for a bit, letting the man stroke his head and even give him a little kiss on the snout. I was surprised for a number of reasons:

1.) Phineas can be a bit skittish around men he doesn’t know upon first meeting them.

2.) This man immediately stroked the top of his head rather than under the chin. Usually Phin likes to sniff out a new person before he’ll let them pet his head.

3.) Kisses on the snout immediately upon meeting someone is a dicey proposition for a dog. I’m not sure anyone has ever done that with Phin except for me. He more than happily took the affection.

As Phin and I said good-bye to the man and headed for home, I wondered how long it had been since the man had someone to show affection toward. Social services focus on feeding and clothing the homeless, getting them into shelter and providing them with medical care and job skills, but rarely considers the value of basic kindness: a touch, a hug, a smile.

Phineas offered his affection and time to this man without any hesitation, even when I was a bit nervous about the endeavor. He wasn’t nervous at all; he was confident and calm and glad to sit with him for a while. I learned a lot about the role of kindness and concern in that moment, and plan to carry it forward. We have so much to learn from animals.

This blog is also available as a podcast on Cinch and iTunes.

grateful, gratitude, kindness, thankful, thanksgiving

Beginning: Remembering To Whom We Owe Thanks

Christa Avampato

“I perhaps owe having become a painter to flowers.” ~ Claude Monet

“The only people with whom you should try to get even are those who have helped you.” ~ John E. Southard

A friend of mine recently lost her job. I met with her to talk about some new possibilities and how I could help her connect to sources of new employment. For very close friends, I’m always happy to have these types of conversations. I spend a lot of time cultivating and caring for my network for just these types of occasions. I relish the role of being a connector.

Just after my friend and I finished talking she asked me how she could repay me, which made me smile. I didn’t need any repayment of any kind – I have already been repaid many times over. She’s my friend. And honestly, I get repaid every day just to have the opportunity of being alive. This sounds trite, except when I explain that every day I have is just gravy to me. I came very close to not making it out from a fire that happened in my apartment building about a year and a half ago. Until I was out of the building, I didn’t realize how close I had come to a really tragic end of a life not yet fully unfurled. All the repayment I ever need from any good deed I do in this lifetime is the opportunity to breath.

A lot of people have helped my life along to where it is now. Too many to name here though they can rest assured that I remember every kindness, every favor, every ounce of support. Family, friends, teachers, co-workers, neighbors. When I think about all of the goodness that I’ve seen in my travels, the disappointments and set backs are so minimal (even if they didn’t seem minimal at the time that they happened.) That’s why the quotes above by Monet and Southard caught my attention in such a powerful way. By helping people like my friend currently looking for a job, I’m just repaying the world for all its done for me. I’ve only just begun – I still have many more payments forward to make.

This blog is also available as a podcast on Cinch and iTunes.

kindness, learning, relationships, teaching

My Year of Hopefulness – Vermonty

Christa Avampato

“A teacher affects eternity; he can never tell where his influence stops.” ~ Henry B. Adams

While Mr. Adams meant for this post to be about professional teachers, I’m learning that we are all always teachers, just as we are all always students. Every moment that we’re living, we’re teaching. What we teach to others says an awful lot about who we are and the significance of our lives. Just as we get what we give, we learn what we teach. What we teach is our contribution to humanity, and this is not something to be taken lightly.

What I try to be mindful of in every moment is that every action we take, every word we say has true lasting effects that we will never know. That applies to every stranger we meet, as well as everyone in our personal and professional lives. That means every personal interaction, as well as every anonymous interaction. There is no excuse for leaving out please, thank you, and a smile. There is no excuse for not doing what we say we will do. Being polite, courteous, gracious, and follow-through will get us farther in this world than anything else.

Years later, others will still be thinking about what we said and did and how we treated them. I’d prefer they think well of me than ill of me. And sometimes that requires swallowing my pride a little bit, and not saying exactly what I think all of the time. Publilius Syrus got it right when he said, “I have often regretted my speech, never my silence.” I’ve learned that lesson many times over, the hard way. A little filter is good.

I’m not saying that this is easy to always remember or do. I try to get it as right as I can as often as I can. Sometimes I fall short and in the aftermath I feel a bit badly. I just double-down my efforts and try to do better going forward. At the same time that I accepted that we’re all lifelong teachers and students, I also gave up the pursuit of perfection – both realizations have helped enormously.

When I got into my apartment building elevator a few weeks ago, a man I’ve never met before stepped in after me. I had just gotten home from a rough day, and I wasn’t feeling particularly cheery. I could have looked down at my feet, lost in my own sad thoughts. Instead I looked up and smiled at the man in the elevator.

He smiled and asked me, “are you from Vermont?” I laughed.

“No, I’m not,” I said, “but I spent a summer there doing a theatre internship when I was in college.”

“Oh,” he said. “Are they nice there in Vermont?”

“Very,” I said.

“You just look like a very nice person. And I always associate being very nice with being from Vermont. You look very Vermonty.”

“Well, thank you,” I giggled.

“See – that’s what I mean,” he said. “So polite, those people from Vermont.”

He hopped off the elevator and bid me good night. A small interaction considering all of the interactions I had that day. I don’t know his name. He doesn’t know mine. I may never see him again. But weeks later, I’m still thinking of him. I smiled to myself. Vermonty – that’s a last impression I can live with.

art, fear, film, government, happiness, kindness, love, safety, Tibet, war

My Year of Hopefulness – Daniel Ellsberg and John Dean

Christa Avampato

On Tuesday night I attended an event at the New York Society of Ethical Culture. The event was a talk moderated by Ann Beeson, Executive Director for U.S. Programs at the Open Society Institute and former Associate Legal Director at the ACLU. She interviewed Daniel Ellsberg and John Dean on the eve of the release of a documentary entitled The Most Dangerous Man in America: Daniel Ellsberg and the Pentagon Papers. Judith Ehrlich and Rick Goldsmith, the film makers, were in attendance as well. I’m looking forward to seeing it some time soon, and you should, too. We all should. While its set around the events of the 1970s, its moral implications are just as relevant today.


From the moment the footage began to role, my eyes started to tear up. With scenes of the massive amounts of missiles that we poured into Vietnam, 7.8M tons, it was hard to not consider all that we have been doing in Afghanistan and Iraq for years. And while the specific circumstances and players may differ, the outcome is likely to be the same. Innocent people are placed in the line of fire, and harmed. Those people are looked at as casualty numbers, the equivalent of statistics in some government report. In truth, those people are someone’s parent, sibling, child, friend, neighbor, lover. And after years of watching the news night after night, watching the death tolls climb higher and higher, I can’t find a logical reason to have incurred any of those losses.

Daniel Ellsberg and John Dean, government insiders, stood up once they realized that we could not win in Vietnam, once they had proof in black and white, via the Pentagon Papers, that there was no morally, ethically, or even legally correct reasoning for our occupation of Vietnam. At great personal peril, they risked everything, even their own freedom, their own lives, to reveal these findings. It would have been easier, far easier, to turn a blind eye – at least in the short run. In the long run, they just didn’t feel like they could live with themselves if they didn’t release the classified information they had that showed the fallacy of the war. They saved, literally, thousands, tens of thousands, maybe even hundreds of thousands, of lives by standing up with every odd stacked against them. Their courage is immeasurable.

As I sat in the audience I considered the bravery and fear these men must have had for years, how they risked everything of personal value for the good of the world. It was completely humbling to be in their presence. The most fascinating piece of the talk was the last question they answered: “What would you say to other potential whistle blowers out there who are contemplating taking the path you took?” John Dean couldn’t recommend it. Daniel Ellsberg asked those people to seriously consider taking the same road he took. I left understanding both of their points of view, wondering what I’d do, what my friends would do, if faced with similar circumstances.

I fell asleep Tuesday night thinking about the Dalai Lama’s letter to the world after September 11th. We later found out that he didn’t write the letter at all; it was a hoax written by someone else who was very concerned that in the wake of the attacks, we would find ourselves entering a deadly war that we could not win. The author may have felt that it had more relevance coming from the Dalai Lama; perhaps the author felt more people would listen to its reason. Perhaps that person didn’t have the ability or the knowledge to be as courageous as Daniel Ellsberg and John Dean. No matter; the author’s intention was the same – he or she felt compelled to stand up, speak up, and try to encourage others to do the same.

The letter is a beautiful one and bears repeating. I still cry when I read it; it’s that powerful. It’s reproduced below and can also be found on the website of The Government of Tibet in Exile. Daniel Ellsberg and John Dean seized the time of their teaching. I wonder if we will have the courage to seize ours, too, not just in issues of war but in issues of every day life as well.

“Dear friends around the world,

The events of this day cause every thinking person to stop their daily lives, whatever is going on in them, and to ponder deeply the larger questions of life. We search again for not only the meaning of life, but the purpose of our individual and collective experience as we have created it-and we look earnestly for ways in which we might recreate ourselves anew as a human species, so that we will never treat each other this way again.

The hour has come for us to demonstrate at the highest level our most extraordinary thought about Who We Really Are. There are two possible responses to what has occurred today. The first comes from love, the second from fear.

If we come from fear we may panic and do things -as individuals and as nations- that could only cause further damage. If we come from love we will find refuge and strength, even as we provide it to others.

This is the moment of your ministry. This is the time of teaching. What you teach at this time, through your every word and action right now, will remain as indelible lessons in the hearts and minds of those whose lives you touch, both now, and for years to come.

We will set the course for tomorrow, today. At this hour. In this moment. Let us seek not to pinpoint blame, but to pinpoint cause. Unless we take this time to look at the cause of our experience, we will never remove ourselves from the experiences it creates. Instead, we will forever live in fear of retribution from those within the human family who feel aggrieved, and, likewise, seek retribution from them.

To us the reasons are clear. We have not learned the most basic human lessons. We have not remembered the most basic human truths. We have not understood the most basic spiritual wisdom. In short, we have not been listening to God, and because we have not, we watch ourselves do ungodly things.

The message we hear from all sources of truth is clear: We are all one. That is a message the human race has largely ignored. Forgetting this truth is the only cause of hatred and war, and the way to remember is simple: Love, this and every moment.

If we could love even those who have attacked us, and seek to understand why they have done so, what then would be our response? Yet if we meet negativity with negativity, rage with rage, attack with attack, what then will be the outcome?

These are the questions that are placed before the human race today. They are questions that we have failed to answer for thousands of years. Failure to answer them now could eliminate the need to answer them at all.

If we want the beauty of the world that we have co-created to be experienced by our children and our children’s children, we will have to become spiritual activists right here, right now, and cause that to happen. We must choose to be at cause in the matter.

So, talk with God today. Ask God for help, for counsel and advice. For insight and for strength and for inner peace and for deep wisdom. Ask God on this day to show us how to show up in the world in a way that will cause the world itself to change. And join all those people around the world who are praying right now, adding your Light to the Light that dispels all fear.

That is the challenge that is placed before every thinking person today. Today the human soul asks the question: What can I do to preserve the beauty and the wonder of our world and to eliminate the anger and hatred-and the disparity that inevitably causes it – in that part of the world which I touch?

Please seek to answer that question today, with all the magnificence that is You. What can you do TODAY…this very moment? A central teaching in most spiritual traditions is: What you wish to experience, provide for another.

Look to see, now, what it is you wish to experience-in your own life, and in the world. Then see if there is another for whom you may be the source of that. If you wish to experience peace, provide peace for another. If you wish to know that you are safe, cause another to know that they are safe.

If you wish to better understand seemingly incomprehensible things, help another to better understand. If you wish to heal your own sadness or anger, seek to heal the sadness or anger of another.

Those others are waiting for you now. They are looking to you for guidance, for help, for courage, for strength, for understanding, and for assurance at this hour. Most of all, they are looking to you for love.

My religion is very simple. My religion is kindness.”
hope, kindness, New York City

My Year of Hopefulness – Another Small Act of Kindness

Christa Avampato

Yesterday, I returned home from the airport at 1am after being awake since 4am the morning before, dealing with quite possibly one of the worst days of my life in-between. I arrived at my apartment door frustrated, deeply saddened, and full of disappointment. I looked back at the cab that had dropped me at the curb outside and he waited for me to make sure that I got into my front door okay. Can you believe that? A New York cabbie concerned that some no-name lady got into her apartment building without trouble. His small act erased my sadness. 


I fell asleep last night considering all the ways that I could make that same small effort and truly transform someone’s day:
holding doors open for others
petting someone’s dog and saying how cute the dog is
letting someone who looks frustrated go ahead of us in a check-out line at the store
even smiling – just smiling

There a lot of gloom and doom in this world, especially these days. We can all do a part to let a little sunshine in, and while we’re at it, let the sunshine in for others, too. 
community, generosity, kindness, neighbors, relationships

Celebrating "Small"

Christa Avampato

A few weeks ago I was taking the bus cross town, or at least attempting to, in the pouring rain. I was dashing down the flooded streets, chasing after the bus I needed to catch. Thankfully another person was in the same boat, or so I thought. He banged on the door of the bus to stop it. For me. And he continued on his way under a half sagging umbrella. I breathlessly thanked him. “No problem.” he said.


In the late summer, I was walking a few blocks to meet my friends at the Boat Basin. A “Not in Service” bus stopped and asked me how far I had to go. He offered to take me over there. “But you’re out of service,” I said. “Don’t worry about it,” he replied, “I don’t mind.” He dropped me off as close to the Boat Basin as possible and didn’t even ask me to swipe my Metrocard.

Today I walked outside, very early in the morning and more than a little grumpy. An older woman was struggling to scrape off the thick ice that coated her car. A stranger pulled up to the curb and offered to scrape the car for her. The woman was overwhelmed with the offer of help. I smiled and felt a little more hopeful about the world. 

I was saying good-bye and happy holidays to some of my co-workers today. And I was quite speechless to have one of them say to me, “You, Christa, were the bright spot of 2008 for me. In a year that is so challenging on every front, I am so thankful for you.” I didn’t even know how to respond. I never would have expected to have made any kind of impact close to that.

It’s these small acts of kindness and concern that make all the difference in our existence, in our experience of life. While grand gestures are certainly well-received, I always find that it’s the small and heartfelt moments that I retain and cherish most. My new year’s resolution is very simple – it is to celebrate and savor these small gifts, understand how little effort it really takes to make someone else’s day, and to recognize that I can create those moments for others on a continuous basis. In short, I’d like to feel more hopeful and generate more hope for others.