“I am not afraid…I was born to do this.” ~ Joan of Arc via @FamousWomen
A few weeks ago, I wrote about a small message I have been starting to hear during my meditations. It seemed to have some sense of urgency though I couldn’t quite interpret the message. I spoke with my life coach, Brian, about it and he assured me that when the message was ready, it would surface. When I needed to act, it would spur me to do what I needed to do.
For some time, I’ve been contemplating some changes in my life, on the career front and on the personal front. In the past few months I’ve been increasingly clear about want to use yoga as a therapeutic practice in situation where yoga is not typically utilized, mainly in hospitals and treatment facilities of one kind or another. On Monday morning, though I woke up with a terribly sore throat, my head was clearer than it’s been in weeks. And that little message I was hearing in my meditation was no longer far away, but right beside me. “Now is the time.”
1.) Yoga – By a wonderful spell of synchronicity, I found two trainings coming up in New York City that I’d like to do.
One at Integral Yoga Institute that focuses on Yoga Therapy, taught by the incredible Cheri Clampett and Arturo Peal. Cheri is the Founder of the White Lotus Foundation in Santa Barbara and a pioneer in using yoga as part of a holistic treatment plan for cancer patients.
It’s time to take the next step in my overall yoga teacher training and pursue my 500-hour qualification. After doing a lot of research and asking a lot of questions, I’m nearly settled on applying to study with Alan Finger at ISHTA, which has a very strong focus on yoga for therapeutic purposes.
I’ll also be attending the Integrative Healthcare Symposium at the New York Hilton on Friday. There I will have the chance to connect with a number of people involved in the integrative healthcare movement, of which yoga plays a very important role.
2.) New professional pursuits – For some time I’ve considered taking some decisive action to take my career in a new direction. After months of teetering between the choice of whether to play it safe or step out of the box, I’ve decided to begin the process of leaving the box behind. More to come as that journey progresses. As soon as I have a solid sense of where that journey leads, you’ll be the first to know!
3.) Be open to a life that’s less structured – This is another message that’s been popping up for me. Increasingly, many of the people I know are breaking out of a traditional work lifestyle. Some going freelance, some becoming consultants, and some taking a variety of contract positions rather than the more traditional day job route. It’s intriguing, a little scary, though I don’t know a single one of them who’s unhappy with this less structured life. Maybe that will be the route for me, too.
There isn’t any fear admist these upcoming changes because I know they’re the right ones for me. Joan of Arc knew what she was talking about.
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Phineas happily rolling around on the grass in Central Park shortly before meeting his new friendI 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.
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“Mistakes are the usual bridge between inexperience and wisdom.” ~ Phyllis Theroux
In this year of new beginnings I’ve been thinking a lot about eradicating fear. The most wonderful thing about having a beginner’s mind is that it gives us the space and the freedom to experiment. We aren’t trying to be perfectionists or people who get it right. We’re playing, and in play, mistakes are welcome and expected.
The idea behind Phyllis Theroux’s quote concentrates on the utility and prevalence of mistakes. They take us from a place of ignorance to a place of knowledge. Last week I heard someone give a presentation in which one of his team’s annual goals is to “build a culture intolerant of defects.” My gut reaction to that language made me want to hide under the table or run out of the room. “That’s what’s wrong with his company,” I thought to myself. “Mistakes are not expected, accepted, or even allowed. No wonder there’s very little innovation here! People are too scared of being cast out to even try to do anything new.” And as a side note, there’s also very little wisdom in his company.
I thought about writing the speaker an anonymous note with Theroux’s quote on it and sending it off to him. The sad part is I really feel that once someone is that far gone down the path to perfection, there’s very little hope of pulling him back to reality until there is a burning platform underneath him. Instead, I’m going to show by example that if we can have even a hint of acceptance, or dare I say celebration!, of mistakes then all of a sudden the creativity really gets juiced up, the culture opens, and inertia of innovation can’t be stopped.
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“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.
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I was honored to have the chance to connect with Mark H. Dold, the brilliant actor who plays C.S. Lewis, about his role, the piece, and why the ideas it raises are so important for us to consider in this day and age. I highly recommend grabbing a ticket as soon as you can.
Christa – How did you come to learn about and be cast as C.S. Lewis in Freud’s Last Session?
Mark – It was a random phone call from Barrington Stage Co. Artistic Director Julianne Boyd. A reading was being done in NYC at The Cosmopolitan Club in the Fall of 2008. The head of the board, Maryanne Quison is a member. The reading was to increase awareness of BSC. The actor scheduled to read the role of C.S. Lewis was not feeling well the day before, so I was asked at the eleven hour to step in. I’ve been in the role ever since.
C – What a wonderful turn of fate for you! What was your first reaction to the piece?
M – I didn’t know what to think. I only had 24 hours to wrap my brain around the script and that’s not nearly enough time. I’m still researching Lewis over a year later. I remember thinking that the script was dense and I was unable to see any of he humor that came flying out when we actually began rehearsing and performing the piece in the Berkshires. Beyond that, I will never forgot how I felt after the reading at The Cosmopolitan Club. In two quick days I had managed to fall madly in love with the play in a way that hadn’t happened in a long time. I loved the idea, the debate, the characters.
What really struck me was how the two men seemed very real. They were hardly iconic cutouts. There was flesh and blood there. I wasn’t sure I’d ever be “brain smart” enough to play Lewis but I knew I was “heart smart” enough.
C – I love that idea of being “heart smart”. You’ve been researching C.S. Lewis now for over a year. How do you conduct that research?
M – I decided very early on not to do any reading beyond September 3, 1939. It was important to me to know everything Lewis had written up to this point. After all the play is about the man he is not the man is going to become. Of course one informs the other, but if the words didn’t exist on the page by Sept. 3, 1939, then I didn’t read it. Of course I am familiar with The Chronicles of Narnia but, again, I didn’t go back to them.
I focused on Lewis’ early writing. His letters, his poetry, and found his autobiography Surprised By Joy very helpful. That book was written later in his life but it focuses on his earlier days leading up to his conversion with Freud. I also made sure to read anything that is referenced in the play. GK Chesterton’s The Everlasting Man, The New Testament, etc. I did a lot of reading. I still am.
People coming to the show are now sharing some of their favorite books with both Martin [Rayner; the actor who plays Freud] and me. Some they’ve read and even some they’ve written. I’m trying to read those as well.
C – Is it at all intimidating to play such a well-known historical figure?
M – I was completely intimated! I still am! I think I will remain in a state of continual intimidation until the day the show closes. I never thought I would be smart enough to play a man with a brain like Lewis. Once I started working on the role I quickly realized that you can’t play a man’s brain. You play someones heart and soul. The more I read about Lewis in his younger years, uncovering events and people who had critical influence on his development, the more I began to understand him. He’s a man, just like me. His experience brought him to his thinking. Not the other way around.
I’m an actor; I can play experience. You can’t play thought. At the Yale School of Drama our brilliant acting teacher Earle Gister was always talking about how to make your scene partner “feel” something, because you have to change the way someone feels about something before they change the way they think about it. The head FOLLOWS the heart. Not the other way around.
C – Has your performance evolved throughout the show’s run? If so, how?
M – People keep asking me how I can keep my performance fresh after six months and I have to admit I’m not having trouble doing that. I believe that speaks to the wonder of Mark St. Germain’s script and the subject matter. How could you possibly tune out while having a discussion with one of history’s most fascinating characters? A discussion about one of the most mind-bending issues known to man?
Just yesterday a line hit me like it never has before. I thought “O,M…..,that’s what that line is really about! Of course!” Also, over time, Martin and I have gotten to a place where we know this piece so well that there is an ease, a complete lack of tension on stage that I can’t remember ever feeling. I feel completely open and available to anything that may occur.
Also, now I really have the sense that when people come to see this play they are putting themselves into our hands. They truly trust us to take them on this journey and deliver them back safely by the play’s 75 minute conclusion.
I’ve always known that to be the unspoken agreement between actor and audience but I’ve never felt it more intensely then I have with this production. People are coming to see this play really out of trust. Out of faith. We’ve discovered over the months that 80% percent of our audience is there because someone else told them to come see the show. They aren’t there because of some million dollar advertising budget, or because a superstar is taking a turn on stage between movies. They are coming because people they trust told them to. They come to this little theatre that no one’s heard of to listen to two actors that most people wouldn’t recognize talk for an hour and thirteen minutes. That trust gets transferred to us. It’s an amazing feeling.
C – Can you talk a little bit about your acting partnership with Martin Rayner?
M – Martin and I are very lucky. Our chemistry just works. Plain and simple. It’s something you can’t bottle, buy or rehearse. It’s either there or it’s not. We’ve shared a lot and learned a lot from each other both on stage and off.
Freud’s Last Session runs its 200th performance this evening at 7pm at the Marjorie S. Deane Little Theater. Tickets are currently available for performances through Sunday, May 1st. For more info, click here.
“All motion is cyclic. It circulates to the limits of its possibilities and then returns to its starting point.” ~ Robert Collier
Last week Dailygood ran a piece about letting go of certain possibilities. I thought about that idea all day. I felt not that I didn’t have enough options but that I had too many options, too many interests, too many opportunities that in my mind were all good. One part of me felt extraordinarily lucky to be blessed with so many choices and the other part felt overwhelmed. I felt pulled in so many directions, a situation that I created.
I realized that once again it was priority-making time. The older I get, the more often my life seems to need a wringing out. I find that I increasingly need more idle time to let ideas marinate, and to create that idle time I have to let some possibilities pass by, despite their potential.
There are some things I will have to stop doing. So here’s what I’ve decided to close: 1.) In mid-March, I’m going to stop renting at Pearl Studios in favor of another yoga teaching opportunity that has come about. (More on that when the opportunity takes flight in mid-March.)
2.) In addition to this blog, I’m focusing only on one independent writing project – my book about yoga and personal finance. I’ve laid out a writing schedule to get it finished by October. I’m also pursuing several writing opportunities with other outlets in an effort to expand my reach, and my content on this blog is going to be syndicated by another site. (More on that in a later post.)
3.) I’ve decided to only date guys that truly have long-term potential. If it’s just a “fun while it lasts” situation, then I need to sideline that in a hurry.
4.) I’m going to stop trying to think of ways to make my day job the perfect job. There are aspects of my job that I find really fascinating (mobile technology) and aspects of it that hold absolutely no interest for me (politics, jockeying for funding and influence). Eventually, I know that I will move on from this job to something that focuses more on where my personal interests truly lie. I stopped worrying about what that opportunity will be, having confidence that when the time is right, that new opportunity will present itself through my own hard work. I felt a tremendous amount of freedom when all of a sudden I stopped viewing my current role as the end destination. The daily grind I felt there has been put to rest.
How about you? Are there things that you’re going to stop doing in an effort to make more room in your life? Can you find freedom in letting go?
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“Art enables us to find ourselves and lose ourselves at the same time.” ~ Thomas Merton
I love the power of art to inspire us, to help us reach higher ground, while also taking us away from our day-to-day lives and giving us the permission to dream of a different way of being. It helps us to reduce attachment to where we are, and then as if by magic, a new vision of our lives comes crisply into focus. Good art, in any of its forms, alters our perception of time.
On this rainy (albeit warmer!) weekend, take some time out to lose yourself in art and see how your deepest dreams surface. Let me know what you find and I promise to do the same!
The image above depicts the painting “A Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte” by Georges Seurat. It inspired the musical “Sunday in the Park with George” by Stephen Sondheim and James Lapine. The original hangs in the Art Institute of Chicago and is one of my favorite paintings of all time.
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Last Friday afternoon my office offered a few sets of tickets to Sting’s company-sponsored concert at the Prudential Center in Newark, NJ, and I was lucky enough to get to go. I’ve never seen Sting in concert and he’s one of my favorite artists. His consistency and relentless focus on just the music has stood the test of time. His rendition of Fields of Gold is one of my favorite songs of all time.
At 59, he sounds better in person than he does on any of his stellar recordings. He defines the archetype of the classy performer. He was in black, every day clothes, as was his small band consisting of a drummer, guitar player, keyboard player, and backup singer who have been with him forever. The lighting enhanced the show, but wasn’t the show. Black stage and backdrop. The evening was about the music and nothing more.
In an age of Gaga gimmicks, Perry costumes, and tabloid controversy, it was so refreshing to experience an artist up there on stage, offering exactly what he’s been offering for decades. Nothing more and nothing less. He didn’t need any grand entrances, elaborate special effects, or attention-getting stunts. A guy and his band, endlessly talented and greatly appreciated by people who have loved him and his music for years. It was a perfect evening. Just goes to show that the best plan for success, particularly in art, is quality – pure and simple.
I snapped the photo above during the concert.
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“The moment one gives close attention to any thing, even a blade of grass it becomes a mysterious, awesome, indescribably magnificent world in itself.” ~ Henry Miller
Every morning I walk 5 blocks to the subway, and some mornings I don’t remember a single step that I took to get there. I’m out ahead of my walk. I’m imagining the packed subway car that I don’t want to deal with or thinking about my morning meetings and deliverables. I’m checking Twitter and Facebook or planning out my evening activities. This is the downside of being hyper-organized and a creature of planning – I can miss the moment I’m in right now, and all of the learning that each one offers.
In the past month, I’ve been focused on waking up and being aware. I’m observing more consciously, and finding that Henry Miller was absolutely right. Right in my neighborhood, there are beautiful things happening. Small business owners trying to make a-go of their dream. Tiny sprout of life breaking through the cold ground as Spring makes its long slow climb out of obscurity in Riverside and Central Parks. Street musicians and artists decorating our sidewalks. And even all of those people packed in the subway car on weekday mornings – just watching them and taking note of their activities makes my commute a part of my day rather than just some means to an end.
It is possible to renew the familiar, and it doesn’t require any fancy equipment or class or certification. You can start right now, wherever you are. Observe the knots in the world flooring beneath your feet, the sunshine filtering through your window, or the simple mannerisms of the person sitting next to you. We always have the option to begin a practice conscious living.
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“The way you arrive somewhere affects your experience once you’re there.” ~ Jason Crandell
How we arrive in a destination, the physical act of how we get to that first step at our destination is often an experience we barely consider. We’re rushing out the plane, train, car, or subway in effort to get somewhere, without consciously thinking much about how we got where we are and how we want to show up at our destination. The same happens in our yoga practice. In this month’s issue of Yoga Journal, Jason Crandell writes about transitioning between postures of ease and steadiness to postures that challenge us to maintain balance. He doesn’t focus on the completion of the transition, the actual arrival. In this article he’s focused on the many tiny steps in-between. He’s exploring the beauty, challenge, and strength of the transition.
It’s a challenging practice. I rush my practice all the time. My toes grip the mat as if I’m holding on for dear life in standing balance postures. My muscles tense and I have to consciously tell myself to breath. When Jason walks his readers through the transition, I realize how many opportunities for growth and reflection there are in the actual transition. To slow down and pay attention in that process is a focus in and of itself. All this time, I’ve been missing that opportunity in my teaching and in my own practice.
“I am not afraid…I was born to do this.” ~ Joan of Arc via @FamousWomen
Christa Avampato 