Category: silence

calm, care, clarity, commitment, community, healthcare, meditation, silence, simplicity, yoga

Beginning: The Moment We Miss

Christa Avampato

“The moment we most often miss is this one.” ~ Robert Chodo Campbell, HHC

My heart is still singing from the Integrative Healthcare Symposium I attended on Friday. It felt so good, so nourishing to be in the company of so many people who think about health and wellness as a spiritual and a physical journey. I found confirmation in my beliefs that have largely been from my gut as medical doctors from the world-class medical facilities such as Beth Israel and top research universities presented their research and advocated for a more holistic approach to heathcare in the US.

We started Monday morning with a presentation by Robert Chodo Campbell and Koshin Pauley Ellison, two Buddhist Monks who co-founded and co-manage the New York Zen Center for Contemplative Care. We did some meditation exercises that have given me weeks worth of material for this blog and for ideas for my SXSW session that is coming up in Austin next week. They shared stories about their work as the co-directors of Contemplative Care at Beth Israel Medical Center, where I’m hoping to do some type of volunteer / intern work.

One of the lines that really hit me was Chodo’s quote above. We are constantly trying to get somewhere. This is not a new revelation. They actually joked about the idea that nothing they teach is revolutionary – it’s ancient wisdom. And still, as often as we hear it, we don’t always take the idea into our hearts. There is still so much opportunity to improve our awareness, to cultivate more gratitude.

They counseled us to take a breath, a full, conscious, beautiful breath several times throughout the day. When we finish a phone call, take a breath. When we complete a task we’ve been concentrating on, take a breath. And when our thoughts are racing by us, close the eyes and count 1. No complicated mantra needed. Just focus on counting to 1, over and over again until the racing mind, the monkey mind, calms down.

There’s a lot of beauty, a lot of blessing, right now in this moment. In every moment. Take it in; it’s yours.

I love the beauty and simplicity of the image above. It appears on the NY Zen Center’s website.

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

choices, decision-making, silence, simplicity, yoga

Beginning: Need a Sign? Try Idleness.

Christa Avampato

“It is in our idleness, in our dreams, that the submerged truth sometimes comes to the top.” ~ Virginia Woolf via Yoga Vibes


“The soul lives there in the quiet breath.” ~ Rumi

When we have a problem to solve, a challenge to overcome, or an important decision to make, we have a tendency to work double and triple overtime to get to a resolution. And if we can’t get to a point of arrival that feels comfortable, we start over and over again, wearing ourselves down, heightening the frustration until we can barely function at all. I had this experience on Thursday morning. I was trying to make some choices about my next step with Compass Yoga, and I could feel my anxiety mounting.

Idleness gives us the break we need to make a break-through
I had so many ideas at once that my mind experienced a sort of mental traffic jam before going completely blank. A moment of paralysis set in. And thank goodness it did! Right at that moment, I needed to stop. Just stop, breathe, and let the answers rise up. In my gut I knew what the next step should be, but my mind got in the way. Drawing a blank and being forced into a moment of idleness is exactly what I needed.

A Year of Living Your Yoga
For the past few weeks I’ve been using Judith Hanson Lasater’s book A Year of Living Your Yoga (thanks to a recommendation from Yogadork!) The book is filled with 365 very short intentions, easy sound bites to keep in mind, as I travel through my day. Thursday’s intention was to close the eyes, take 20 very deep breaths, and then observe. Nothing complicated. Nothing strenuous. Just breathe, be, and notice.

What idleness showed me
I took Judith’s advice and a flood of realizations about Compass came into focus for me. In short order and in no particular order, they are:
1.) I like to have my weekends free of commitments
2.) It’s okay to be picky about where and when and why to teach
3.) Sometimes offering something for free provides a bigger payoff in the long-term than asking for a nominal payment in the short-term
4.) Good karma is as good a currency as any
5.) Giving back offers its own form of payment
6.) I formed Compass to become a stronger teacher, to bring yoga to under-served populations, and to help new teachers get teaching experience. My decisions need to serve those purposes.
7.) Compass is an effort to broadcast, not narrowcast. Accessibility is more important to me than remuneration.

With those insights in mind, changes are coming to Compass. I’m just putting the finishing touches on these decisions and they will be announced shortly. And it’s all thanks to a few moments of idleness that cleared the way.

Has idleness helped you to realize the way forward? I’d love to hear your story!

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

food, meditation, silence, simplicity, yoga

Step 364: The Secret We Know

Christa Avampato

“We dance around in a ring and suppose but the secret sits in the middle and knows.” ~ Robert Frost

This quote was sent to me by Archan, a very loyal and supportive reader and commenter on this blog. He is constantly feeding me with encouragement and sending along resources, books, and quotes to inspire me. It’s been the very best thing about taking this adventure to write every day and click the button “publish” – I’ve been able to connect with and be inspired by so many people that I may not have met otherwise. A sacred and precious reward.

Over the Christmas week I read The Story of Tea: A Cultural History and Drinking Guide by Mary Lou Heiss and Robert J. Heiss, proprietors of Cooks Shop Here. It’s a gorgeous book that takes readers through so much interesting history and cultural influence wielded by tea, the second most popular beverage on the planet. I was inspired to pick it up after I went to a tea date with my pal, Amanda, at a beautiful little spot in midtown called Radiance, a place I highly recommend, especially if you need some comforting shelter from a monsoon like Amanda and I did that day. My interest in tea has been growing steadily over many years, not surprising since Alice in Wonderland is my favorite book and because it’s a symbol of far off lands, adventure, and intrigue. I love that it is something simple and something so complex at the same time. Dichotomies, you can’t beat ’em for keeping us endlessly entertained.

In The Story of Tea, the Heisses include a section about chanoyu, the Japanese Tea ceremony or “Way of Tea”. It is a sacred art that is part performance, part culinary masterpiece and tea masters study it for years. Sen no Rikyu is the most famous of all Japanese tea masters and said to have been the most important historical figure in the development of chanoyu. His students would ask him how he learned so much about chanoyu, how it became a part of him. He always replied, “boil water and drink it.”

Ha ha, I thought. How flippant. Boil water and drink. Very funny. What else? How did he really gain his vast knowledge? And then I realized that tea, like yoga, like meditation, is really very simple. To know it, we must practice it. There is no other way. For it to sink into our bones, we have to make it a part of our every day lives. Practice – that is the only way. We can read books, study with masters, go to every conceivable workshop or class, but what it really comes down to is Sadhana, personal practice. (I silently apologized for my “ha ha” at Sen no Rikyu.)

My yoga teacher, Jeffrey, told me that during yoga teacher training but in applying the concept to tea, I realized how true that is of everything we want to really know. Practice, practice, practice. We have to sit with that practice and let it reveal itself to us. How right Robert Frost was. The secrets that we want so much to know are already known, we just have to be with them long enough to hear them.

The image above can be found here.

relationships, silence, values

Step 196: The Angry Truth

Christa Avampato

”The truth will set you free. But first it will piss you off.” ~ Gloria Steinem

I laughed out loud at this quote and then I thought, “You got that right, Gloria.” The truth may lead us to liberation, though first it does make us uncomfortable, particularly if that truth goes against a long-held belief. And what if you’re the truth-sayer of your friends, family, co-workers? What if you and the truth have come to an agreement that it will present itself and you will give it a voice? Do you turn into someone who sets others free, and first makes them angry?

I have this role. Of course I have biases, lens, that filter my view of the world. Everyone does. I am very conscious of the fact that I don’t say the truth, but my truth. I call things as I see them, though I admit that may not always be how they are from every angle. And I encourage other people to say their truth, to gives their points of view freely and openly. The truth, however biased, teaches us something – about ourselves, about others, and about the world. I’ve noticed that my closest friends share my truths. We found each other by speaking our minds. The truth leads us to our pack.

That said, speaking our truths is a tall order. Someone, always, will disagree with us and be angry about our point of view. Even the most saintly of human beings, Ghandi, Dr. Martin Luther King, Mother Teresa, dealt with this same difficulty. No one who speaks the truth is immune to some type of backlash.

Take the tall order. Freedom isn’t free – it takes guts to find it for ourselves, and even more guts to help others find their own freedom. The alternative is that we all stay kind of content and trapped. That sounds like a serious degree of hell to me. I’d rather speak up and deal with the consequences.

celebration, friendship, love, relationships, silence

My Year of Hopefulness – The Power of Silence

Christa Avampato

“Let us love, since our heart is made for nothing else.” ~ St. Therese

I have completely lost my voice to this cold I have been fighting. I can barely eek out an audible whisper. This is especially hilarious because talking is one of my favorite activities. Truly, I’ve been known to have a very interesting conversation with a brick wall. I talk to myself in my apartment, as I’m working through problems. I have lots and lots of opinions on just about everything. And now I have been silenced.

I was in DC this weekend with a load of my business school friends for our friends’ Chris and Steph’s wedding. I don’t know that I’ve ever seen a groom that happy. Seriously, if Chris’s smile was any wider his face would have cracked. It was wonderful to see someone I love so much so happy.

After the wedding and reception, my voice was really getting hoarse. The trouble with this sore throat is that it is not currently accompanied by any other symptoms. I feel fine; I just sound a little funny. Actually, I sound a lot funny. To get the blood flowing in my throat, I went to a yoga class with my friend, Julie, at 9am. I always learn so much going to a yoga class. I watch for teaching technique and I invariably learn a new pose or a new way of thinking about a pose that allows me to deepen my practice and teaching.

In Savasana, corpse pose, I was completely relaxed, or so I thought. Savasana is done at the end of virtually every yoga practice. It allows our bodies and minds to approach a meditative state after being worked through the preceding asanas. People have become so relaxed in Savasana that they’ve been known to fall into a sleep / dream state.

The teacher came around to each of us, pressing our shoulders firmly to the mat and down away from our ears. Until she did this, I didn’t realize that I was holding any tension there at all. In fact, I was scrunching up my heart a bit. With the teacher’s pressure, my heart opened with a little bit of a creak and a crack. I felt lighter. I felt a bit more love.

It is an amazing thing about silence and time with friends and yoga and the witnessing of an act of love and commitment. In the past few months, I have been shown how risky and wonderful loving with an open heart can be. I looked around at the wedding reception: at Chris and Steph, of course, and also at my friends Daphne and Eric, and Courtney and Brian, also newly married this year. Their lives are richer for having one another. There is this unspoken chemistry that just works with all of them. At some point, they must have all been a little bit scared, too, maybe afraid to keep their hearts open. Somehow, they worked through that fear and emerged happy and healthy and whole to find another person happy and healthy and whole with an open heart ready to love them.

Today I felt more certain than ever that eventually I’d find the guy for me. That creaking and cracking of my heart was symbolic of that openness I’ve been able to find in the second half of this year. In the midst of my forced silence and voluntary yoga practice, my heart and my mind came together, my mind accepting that this heart o’ mine after being put through the fire many times is now shined and polished and poised for the kind of love and commitment that so many of my friends have generously shown can work.

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

art, books, music, silence, writing

My Year of Hopefulness – It’s what’s missing that counts

Christa Avampato

Today I started reading In Pursuit of Elegance by Matthew May. May’s premise in the book is that what’s not there – in a product, a service, a piece of art, a book – often trumps what is. 12 pages in and I am completely hooked. It’s about what we choose not to do that shapes as our lives as much as what’s on our to-do list. It’s about editing, making decisions, and taking away the unnecessary so that the necessary can shine.

May quotes a lot of sources, referencing everything from ancient Chinese proverbs to pop culture. It never feels contrived, forced, or overly ambitious. He is making connections between seemingly disparate ideas, and teaching us how to live a more valuable, satisfying life in the process.

Early on, May quotes Jim Collins’s now infamous essay that he wrote for USA Today on the subject of “stop-doing.” Collins says, “A great piece of art is composed not just of what is in the final piece, but equally what is not. It is the discipline to discard what does not fit – to cut out what might have already cost days or even years of effort – that distinguishes the truly exceptional artist and marks the ideal piece of work, be it a symphony, a novel, a painting, a company, or most important of all, a life.”

It’s these last two words that got me. I understand editing a novel, a piece of music, a company. We spend a lot of time, maybe most of our time, stuffing our lives full of experience, people, places, and things. We do more and more and more to the point that we can’t remember what we did 10 minutes ago. So what if we did and said less and less and less. What would our lives look like then? What if we only put the precious time we have with one another toward things that passionately, ardently interest us? How would we be different, and how would the world around us be different? Could we actually have a greater positive impact by focusing on the precious few things that really matter to us rather than the mediocre many?

Jazz great John McLaughlin said, “All the music that was ever heard came from the inner silence in every musician.” I extend that quote to say that every human accomplishment has come to be because someone took something from their inner being, from their own personal silence, and gave it to the world. It’s really the only work we ever have to do: strip away the fascades, the excess, what we can live without so that we can know and nurture the handful of things that really count.