calm, commitment, yoga

My Year of Hopefulness – Problems and Answers

Christa Avampato

“If we can really understand the problem, the answer will come out of it.” ~ J. Krishnamurti

So often we look at problems and answers as two separate entities, as if they have their own independent existence. I’ve been thinking about this recently with an education program I’m working on. I have specific problem I’d like to solve, and a specific need I’d like to meet. Reading this quote today I realized that I’ve approached the challenge backwards – I’ve been so focused on finding a solution that I haven’t spent enough time with the problem and all its layers and complexities.

Living with problems can be uncomfortable, so our desire to jump to a solution as quickly as possible is only natural. I’ve been practicing yoga for 9 years and one of the practice’s central tenants is learning to be comfortable being uncomfortable. I’ve found that the best way for me to achieve this is to focus on my breath rather than on the part of my body that might be uncomfortable in a pose. I apply this in other areas of my life as well – sitting in an uncomfortable meeting, standing in a hot, crowded subway, coping with a bad headache or other illness – I just keep focusing on my breath. It helps.

Another, less conventional practice that I am experimenting with is giving problems a physical structure. Meditation does not come easily to me. I like being active so sitting still and concentrating is some times a lot to ask of myself. I do notice that when I’m able to do it, it has great benefits. So I keep trying. Meditation is particularly helpful when I am trying to sort through a problem, though most of the problems I handle are abstract, without structure. During my meditation I imagine how the problems move around in the world, how they impact the places and people they effect, and then consider ways in which those effects can be countered. It’s complicated, and again not a natural method of dealing with problems, though I find this process helps me sit with problems that need my attention.

There’s no silver bullet here. Having problems and challenges is an uncomfortable condition, and will always be. What we can do is make slow and steady progress to ease the discomfort. And in that purposeful progress forward, it’s my hope that we will find the long-term solutions we seek to remove all our challenges.

change, creativity, ideas, innovation

My Year of Hopefulness – Trying to get up that great big hill of hope

Christa Avampato

For a few weeks I’ve been going about my little routine called life. In one particular area, which shall remain nameless, I have been a little stuck. I was just going with the flow, or rather I was letting the waters stagnate. Sort of strolling along with my Bruce Hornsby attitude, telling myself “that’s just the way it is.” Truthfully, that’s the way it was because I let it be.

Fighting a battle, particularly one that’s uphill, is a tough activity to sign-up for. It’s exhausting. It’s painful. It’s frustrating. And a lot of times it doesn’t do any good at all. However, if we spend a lot of time on that battleground and we continually choose to stand at ease, then we get left behind, cleaning up what remains, which often isn’t a whole heck of a lot.

Today I decided I had stood around long enough. Yes, this is the way it is but it doesn’t have to be always be like this. And no one is going to fix it for me. Why should they? They have their own battles to worry about. I signed up for the gig, I took on the mission, and now I had to make sure I wasn’t wasting my time.

So away I went, crafting and planning and convincing that I could clearly perceive a better way forward, and am willing to put my time, energy, and talents into the new venture. I have no idea if it’s going to go anywhere. Tomorrow I could find myself still frittering away at the bottom of the hill. I do know that if I stand around twiddling my thumbs any longer, I’ll be at the bottom of that hill for a long time to come, and I’d have no one to blame for that except me. Might as well plant my stake in the ground and see who I can get to rally around it.

The image above can be found here.

business, career, entrepreneurship, Examiner, health, social media, women

NY Business Strategies Examiner – Interview with Lissa Rankin, Founder of Owning Pink

Christa Avampato

Meet Lissa Rankin, an artist, writer, gynecologist, mother, and all around bundle of positive energy. I met Lissa on Twitter, and once I read her brief bio I knew that I had to feature her in this column.

Lissa has made it her mission in life to help others get their mojo back, and particularly to empower women to do whatever and be whoever they want to be. To foster this mission, she created the company Owning Pink, a place where women can connect and support one another in their pursuits. Owning Pink offers classes, workshops, and mentoring to further these connections.

A courageous, empathic, inspirational role model, Lissa is exactly the kind of person this world needs more of.

For the full interview with Lissa, click here.

child, high school, letter, school, student

My Year of Hopefulness – First Day NY

Christa Avampato

A friend of mine from college recently invited me to join a Facebook Group for First Day NY, a program that looks for volunteers to sponsor New York City children for their first day of school. I signed up immediately and today received some information about the child I’ll be sponsoring. She’s 14 years old (and I assume heading into 9th grade), wants to be a nurse, and loves language arts. My mission is to get her a backpack, a first day of school outfit, and an age-appropriate book based on her interests.

It’s been so long since I thought about the first day of 9th grade. I started high school that year and I remember being so nervous. All my same friends from middle school went with me since my town only had one set of schools. There were kids who were so much bigger and smarter than me. They played sports and ran clubs. How would I find my classrooms? Would boys like me? And the dreaded cafeteria, every 14 year old girl’s nightmare. The movie Mean Girls comes to mind.

The other piece of my mission for the child I’m sponsoring is to write a note of encouragement. “We would like your child to know someone out there cares about their success…with this note you can offer a window into the world of opportunity that awaits them if they always do their best and stay in school.” I’m not ashamed to say I teared up a little upon reading this instruction from First Day NY. This is more than just a backpack and some clothes for a 14 year old; it’s a signal to her that there are people out here cheering her on, people who believe in her potential.

As I think back, 9th grade is the time when I realized that if I worked really hard, I could go anywhere and do anything. That year opened up a new gateway to the whole rest of my life, and how I thought about my purpose in the world. And now I think I have the beginning to my note of encouragement…

If you’d like to get involved with First Day NY, please visit their website: http://www.firstdayny.org/

dreams, legacy, memory

My Year of Hopefulness – Judged by the heart

Christa Avampato

“When you meet a man, you judge him by his clothes; when you leave, you judge him by his heart.” ~ Russian Proverb

This quote reminds me of a recent discussion I had about legacy building. The discussion got me thinking about what remains of us when we leave and how what we want to remain effects what we build right now. I can’t say for sure what specifics I’d like to be remembered for, what one or two things I’d like to build during my time here that will last well into the future. I can say that there are certain sentiments that I hope will be a part of my legacy.

I hope that I am remembered as someone with great heart and compassion and empathy, someone who always considered walking in the shoes of others before passing any kind of judgment. I’d like the words “concern” and “commitment” to appear numerous times in my history. That my integrity remained intact through challenging and easy times. Someone who had dreams and pursued them, while also encouraging and fostering the dreams of others.

I’d like to look back on my life with no regrets, no missed opportunities, having gained and lost in large amounts because I was always willing to take a leap of faith. Someone who remained hopeful in the face of despair, calm in the presence of tension, always looking up even when circumstances at eye level were dire. Having done the very best with what I had, maintained grace and kindness and wonder. That this world be a happier, more peaceful, creative place because I passed this way. Most of all, I hope that I am remembered as someone who rose to my potential while also reaching down to help others rise, too.

There’s a lot of pressure in the world around us to look, feel, and act a certain way, pressure to conform and take the journey that’s the easiest, safest, and most secure. Just because a path has very little resistance doesn’t mean it’s the right path for us. Finding our calling, building our legacy, takes more effort than just following the easy road. It involves knowing who are, and more importantly, who we are capable of becoming. It involves listening to the heart as sincerely as we listen to the mind.

creativity, dreams, friendship, imagination

My Year of Hopefulness – Imagination as reality

Christa Avampato

“Reality leaves a lot to the imagination.” ~ John Lennon

I read this quote from John Lennon on my friend, Col’s, blog. She’s in the midst of some tough circumstances in her life, and her beautiful, honest writing about it is courageous to say the least. I highly recommend it for a daily dose of inspiration.

Reality sometimes gets a bad rap. “You’ve got to be realistic.” “Come back down to reality.” “Wait until reality sets in.” Awful. Any time someone tells me I have to do something, that I need to go back down somewhere, or something is going to invade and set in, I shutter. Why can’t our lives be like we imagine them to be? Who decided my reality for me, without my consultation?

Without imagination, we get a reality we don’t want. We could take Lennon’s sentiment one step further and say our reality is actually defined by our imagination. What kind of job do we really want to go to everyday? What kind of relationships and friendships do we want? Where do we want to live, what do we want to do, and who do we want to be? It’s all possible.

I’ve been having so many conversations with friends recently about the shape they’d like their lives to take. The one common question that is the root for them all is “do you really think I can do this? Can I really make this happen?” And my response is always the same. A) of course you can and B) no one else is going to make your life happen the way you want it to happen. It’s a personal commitment to go out there and get everything in life you want. Our imagination is the only limitation.

friendship, generosity, gifts

My Year of Hopefulness – The high value of giving

Christa Avampato

Finally settled into my dear friend, Rob’s, apartment for the week, I am feeling an immense sense of calm. As the last of my belongings were expertly ushered out of my old apartment with the greatest of care by the movers, I was doing a little dance of gratitude.

My friend, Dan, was one of the people who recommended Flat Rate Moving to me, and I texted him to ask how much I should tip them. We went back and forth several times about an appropriate amount. Finally, Dan said “In these situations I reason that they need it more than I do, so I round up.” I emptied my wallet to double the going industry tip rate (which Dan also looked up for me on the fly, as well as surveying everyone in his office on the spot.) They deserved it.

I swept up the last of the dust bunnies, and grabbed a cab cross-town to Rob’s. Given the gridlock traffic, I had a lot of time to think about giving more than the going rate for exceptional circumstances. Whether it’s a tip to movers or the amount of time and attention to a valuable friendship, it feels good to give far beyond the usual.

So what if we always gave a little more than what was warranted? A little more care, energy, effort, passion, time, and money? What if we shared beyond what would ever be expected by others? Imagine how much further along we’d be. It seems to me that the only way we’re ever going to have a life and a world that’s exceptional is to give and give and give again. More than we’re asked, and maybe even more than we think we’re capable of.

forgiveness, home, moving, New York City, worry

My Year of Hopefulness – Seized Engine

Christa Avampato

The movers from Flatrate Moving have arrived! Only about an hour late – though very nice guys. I’ll take late but nice; far better than on-time and cranky. They were late because they put the wrong fuel in the truck, or someone at the company did. They had to go get a Budget rental truck to complete my move. I can’t imagine how nerve-wracking it is to be a mover.

I thought I was anxious about the move because I would watch all my stuff being carted away – off to storage for two weeks – hoping I’ll see it again in some decent form. Turns out I was anxious for an entirely different reason which I only realized while talking to my sister, Weez. I was worried I’d disappoint my movers. Did I pack the boxes incorrectly? Did I not use enough tape? Did I pack too much in them. Are they going to be cursing my name and playing catch with my belongings?

As Weez pointed out, this is ridiculous, especially considering that I triple taped every box, put my initials and box numbers on at least 3 sides of each box, and set them out in numerical order. (I feel my OCD coming out.) They had their engine seize and were late – they felt badly about it; I was worried about the packing of my boxes and I felt badly about it. We worry so much about disappointing one another; as it turns out, the cure to disappointment is forgiveness and understanding – something we can all do.

One of my movers looked around at my things and said, “this is it?” “Yep, minus the lamps – I’m giving those away to goodwill this afternoon.” “Don’t worry,” he said. “We plan for everything – it will all be fine.” Were my nerves showing?

And then my landlady, Ann-Marie stopped by, to inquire about the keys, my forwarding address, etc. She gave me a hug, kissed me on the check, and wished me well. Since I’ll still be in the neighborhood, I’ll be seeing them around. She and her husband, Joe, have been very good to me, and I appreciate everything they did to help me in my transition back to NYC two years ago.

30 minutes after their arrival, the move’s almost done. The wondrous sound of packing tape are the background music for this post and it’s music to my ears; maybe my triple taping wasn’t enough. No problem though, the movers have me covered. The knots in my stomach are finally beginning to disappear.

home, moving, New York City

My Year of Hopefulness – A Sea of Brown Boxes

Christa Avampato

I’m writing to you tonight atop of a sea of brown boxes containing the tangible contents of my life. The sorting and packing processes are complete. Everything’s taped up, awaiting the movers who arrive bright and early tomorrow morning at 9.

Because my new apartment’s renovations won’t be complete until mid-August, my belongings are headed for the world of storage for safe keeping. I’ll be staying with friends with only two suitcases and a backpack. I still think I’ve overpacked for two weeks. (Do I really need those pink espadrilles for the next 14 days?)

To give myself some peace of mind, I started making an inventory of what’s contained in each box – just a general overview – in the event that my things get misplaced during the move. Trouble is that I thought I could remember what they contained after I’d sealed them. Turns out I haven’t the faintest idea of what’s inside about half of them. Now this could be because it’s nearly midnight and I’m tired. It could be because I’m in post-packer’s coma, and more than slightly incoherent after a long, long day of packing, cleaning, and tossing.

It would be nice to use a logical excuse here to explain my forgetfulness. Truthfully, I know why I can’t remember what’s in half these boxes – because it doesn’t matter. I’m not a “things” person. Why do I need 25 brown Home Depot boxes packed to the gills and sealed with duct tape? I don’t – and even though I sent a lot of my belongings out to retirement, I still have much more than I thought I did. And much more than I actually need.

Too late now, though. Flatrate Moving will be ringing up my Amex card around 10am tomorrow for a larger amount than I ever imagined I’d pay for movers. My bed is calling me for one last rest within this apartment that has been an incubator of creativity and exploration for me these last two years. It’s been a fun ride. New adventures in a new space are already calling me, and being a person who is unable to turn down adventure, I must answer them.

books, New York City, teaching

My Year of Hopefulness – Teachers

Christa Avampato

“It’s lovely to know that the world can’t interfere with the inside of your head.” ~ Frank McCourt

Daily Good wrote a beautiful tribute to Frank McCourt today. Mr. McCourt passed away last week after having written a set of prize-winning books regarding his childhood in Ireland and his career teaching in New York City public schools. I love those books; I began reading them when I first moved to New York 11 years ago. Having gone to public school myself, his stories brought back some fun memories from my own childhood and gave me a new perspective on teaching and writing.

Now years later, I volunteer with Junior Achievement of New York, teaching in New York City public schools. I should revisit his second book, Teacher Man, to refresh my memory and learn from his. His book would also be useful as I prepare to pitch a pilot project that I’d like to launch in a New York public school in January. That’s the beauty of writing out our stories and lessons learned – they invariably help someone else down the line. Mr. McCourt is a wonderful example to illustrate that it’s never too late to tell your story; he published his first book, Angela’s Ashes, when he was 66. It won the Pulitzer Prize and the National Book Critics Circle Award.

The Daily Good post got me thinking about all of the incredible teachers I’ve been fortunate to have all my life. Though I went to public school in a rural town in upstate New York, I had teachers who believed in me and inspired me every day. It is a rare gift, and I never took it for granted. I’ve been thinking lately that I should break out my stacks of stationery and write them all letters to thank them for giving their lives to help people like me.

I went on to attend two wonderful universities, also with a slate of brilliant and inspiring teachers. Through my life I’ve had a few constants – my mom and my cell phone number immediately come to mind. And I always had the benefit of excellent teachers.

Teachers don’t get enough credit or praise. Their hours are long and yet some people discount teaching as a profession because many have their summers off. In truth, they put in a whole lot of extra time over the 9 months when school is in session, much more time than a lot of people in corporate jobs.

When I worked at Rollins College, Doc Rodgers, one of the theatre professors would joke that he was heading off to class to “shape young minds”. And while he always said it in jest, it’s absolutely true. Teachers take this responsibility of shaping young minds very seriously, and we should, too, by supporting them and thanking them for all that they’ve done and will continue to do on our behalf. Our futures depend on them.

The photo above is Frank McCourt in his New York City classroom.