Tag: community

creativity

How nature rebuilds after a fire

Christa Avampato
Photo by Caleb Cook on Unsplash

In 2009, my New York City apartment building caught fire. I lost nearly everything I owned, and I almost got trapped in the building. I’ve written a lot about that incident, the terrifying PTSD that followed, and the therapist and friends who helped lead me out of the darkness I’d shoved down my entire life up to that point so I could fully step into the light for the first time. (You can read some of those pieces here and here.)

Watching the coverage of the LA fires and doing whatever I can to help people there wasn’t triggering for me. However, it did leave me with a profound sadness because I know first-hand how painful it is to lose everything and then face the difficulty of rebuilding my life and my mental health. It’s a long and winding road. Fire physically, chemically, and irreversibly alters everything it touches, us included.

When I’m sad, confused, or lost, I often turn to nature. As a biomimicry scientist, it’s become a habit for me to ask, “What would nature do?” Nature has faced fire for hundreds of megaannums; the first evidence of it appears in the fossil record about 420 million years ago, with charcoaled plant remains. (By comparison, the mass extinction of dinosaurs happened about 66 million years ago.) When destroyed by fire, how does nature rebuild? Time, variety, and assistance.

Rebuilding requires time
The dramatic before and after photos of a fire may lead us to believe that the rebuilding begins as soon as the fire is snuffed out. However, without plants to anchor the soil, storms that follow wildfires can cause even more damage through massive flooding and erosion. The post-fire damage can continue for years.

After my fire, my PTSD caused years of difficulty, long after I had a new home and had replaced my belongings. This was also true when I finished active cancer treatment many years later. The effects of life-altering events cannot be immediately known. Healing isn’t linear and it often takes longer than we’d like. The impacts unfold at a pace that we don’t control. Give yourself the space and grace to take it all in, process it, and move forward on whatever timeline you need.

Rebuilding requires variety
After a fire, nature re-establishes itself by re-anchoring the soil. Native plants that have that ability are the first to take root. That includes hardy varieties of grasses, trees, and shrubs that can survive through harsh conditions. Their ability to stabilize the landscape paves the way for an even greater variety of plants to return with time.

When we’re rebuilding, we can feel overwhelmed. We want everything to immediately go back to the way it was, and the fact that we know it can’t be that way can leave us feeling paralyzed. Focusing on one step at a time and prioritizing immediate steps that make other steps possible, can help.

When I moved into my new apartment after my fire, I had 2 plastic CVS bags of belongings and an air mattress I borrowed from a friend. The emptiness of that space gave me so much anxiety. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and asked myself, “What do I need right now?” I needed a toothbrush, a towel, and some soap. So, I went and got those three small things. That was the groundwork I needed on that first day, in that first moment. The rest could wait.

Rebuilding requires assistance
While these native plants begin to grow, invasive species will often try to muscle their way into the space. Rewilders and forestry experts will often give nature a hand by removing invasive species, allowing native plants the time, space, and resources they need to grow and develop.

My PTSD was an invasive species. Anxiety, nightmares, and suicidal thoughts tried to set up shop in my mind and body. Sometimes they succeeded. One time I woke up sitting on the sidewalk crying. I had no idea how I got there, nor how long I’d been there. My PTSD was causing me to have blackouts.

I was afraid to be home, and I was afraid to not be home. Every siren was cause for internal alarm, and New York City has a lot of sirens.

Friends and my therapist offered to help, and though I tried to brush them off, some were persistent. They were my rewilders. They showed up against my objections and began to help me pull the weeds of PTSD from my mind and body. It wasn’t a pleasant experience for any of us, but it was necessary. Without them, I wouldn’t be here. The PTSD would have taken over, preventing my recovery.

When you go through something traumatic, ask for and accept help. When you see someone going through trauma, don’t wait to be asked to help. Show up and lend a hand. None of us get through recovery alone.

Encouragement for Angelenos
Los Angeles, we’re with you. You’re not alone in any of this. This whole nation cares what happens to you, and we’ll continue to care and help you get back on your feet. The ground is already being seeded with love, donations, and generosity. The road to recovery will be long and difficult, and we’ll be there to build it with you. Nature has given us the blueprint.

creativity

The Serviceberry: The world’s wisest economist

Christa Avampato
Serviceberry. Photo by Georg Eiermann on Unsplash.

Could prizing generosity as much as we covet wealth, celebrity, and power be what saves us?

I recently read the book, The Serviceberry: Abundance and Reciprocity in the Natural World by Robin Wall Kimmerer. It explores ecological economics, a field that centers the relationship between the natural world and the human-made economy.

The words “ecology” and “economy” originate from the same Greek word “oikos”, meaning “home”. Ecology and economy both involve studying and managing the environment in which we live­ — ecology being a nature-made home and economy being a human-made home.

With that shared history between “ecology” and “economy”, Dr. Kimmerer asks how we might model nature’s generosity to transform our human-made capitalist economy that works best for the wealthy into one that is healthy, high-functioning, and inclusive so that everyone thrives.

How might we move from a paradigm of haves and have-nots to everyone-has-enough? Can our capitalist economy transform into one rooted in generosity? What would that look like? How would it function?

Nature shows us that the key to generosity is trust. A serviceberry plant freely offers its delicious berries to animals knowing those animals will disperse its seeds. It’s part of their ecological agreement — an equal give and take that benefits everyone. This same type of equitable reciprocity exists throughout natural ecosystems, each member giving its resources and taking what it needs in return. Nature doesn’t hoard abundance, nature shares.

In this new year, already fraught with difficulties and loss on a massive scale, we can emulate the generosity of the serviceberry plant. We all have an abundance of something — talents, abilities, training and education, time, resources, kindness, love. We also all have needs. Somebody somewhere needs what we have, and somebody somewhere has what we need.

That matchmaking, that trust that if a call goes out it will be answered, is what’s helped nature flourish for millennia. We’re a part of nature, and it’s no different for us. Offer what you have to someone who needs it. Trust that when you ask for help in some form, someone who has an abundance of what you need will step forward. Nature shows us that navigating through difficulty is easier when we travel together.

If we can begin to bake nature’s example of trust and generosity into our own lives and extend it into our workplaces, schools, communities, and governments, we can start that shift that Dr. Kimmerer and ecological economists envision for us. Like the serviceberry plant, we’ll find generosity is a gift that returns to us season after season, creating the virtuous loop that is nature’s foundation and can be the bedrock of our future economy and society if we choose for it.

creativity

How to stay focused in this mad, mad world

Christa Avampato
Photo by John Cameron on Unsplash

Please don’t get distracted by claims about Greenland, the Panama Canal, the Gulf of Mexico, and all the madness that is sure to arrive in the weeks, months, and years ahead.

Focus on what needs our attention and support right now: climate issues leading to the devastating fires in Los Angeles (which may be the worst they’ve had in over 30 years), the bitter deadly cold sweeping across the U.S., and the increase in bird flu and Norovirus; social media walking back fact-checking and calling it a win for users knowing it will lead to even more rampant misinformation and conspiracy theories; further restrictions on access to healthcare; continued intense geopolitical wars and unrest all over the world; the ever-growing gap in wealth that has serious consequences, especially for the most vulnerable. There are many more I could add to that list; I’m sure you can add to that list, too.

So how can you keep your focus on what matters most and what you can actually do? Don’t get it twisted. Take care of yourself and your community, preserve your mental health and energy, and do what you can do where you are with what you have. Our collective priority needs to be caring about each other and this planet.

creativity

In 2025, I’m rebuilding

Christa Avampato
Photo by Mike Erskine on Unsplash

Each year I choose a word to live by. In 2024, my word was vulnerability. In 2025, my word is rebuild. To rebuild and do work with our whole heart is to be utterly vulnerable. The two go hand-in-hand. Our greatest work begins once we’re able to be completely vulnerable, giving voice to our deepest dreams knowing we may never reach them and trying anyway because it’s what we’re called to do.

I’ve been thinking about the Mary Oliver quote, “Listen, are you breathing a little and calling it a life?” Sometimes, I’ve done exactly that because I didn’t feel ready, or I was missing something I thought I needed to move forward. I have notebooks full of ideas and dreams that I want to get to “someday”. I’ve decided that someday is today, and this year I’m going to be open to all those words I’ve written for years taking shape. I don’t need more time, money, experience, or training. I need to give my dreams everything I’ve already got. Some will work out and some won’t, and that’s okay. I’ll be a better person for giving those dreams a fighting chance to become real.

2024 often felt like a dark season for me. Maybe it was for you, too. I tried to climb out of it and into the light until I was exhausted. So, I sat in the dark. It wasn’t comfortable but it was necessary. The darkness always has something to teach us, and this is what it taught me: we can only find our way out of the darkness and into the light if we journey together.

My 2025 will primarily be about building community, seeking out advice, trying something, iterating, and trying again, supporting others, and lifting them up as I rise. I’m most interested in being the most generous person in the room, the best listener, and the most collaborative partner. Our world needs so much love, kindness, and healing, and we have to be there for each other, especially when the going gets tough.

2024 taught me that progress isn’t permanent. It needs protection. 2025 will test our resolve, values, and strength. We’ll be called to have courage in the face of intense adversity. What’s on the line is bigger than any of us can face alone; we have to face it together. In 2025, you’ll find me rebuilding bridges and longer tables, publishing writing that ignites curiosity, wonder, and a sense of belonging, and creating spaces, products, and experiences that provide safety, comfort, and care for all beings. I hope you’ll join me for this adventure because I’d love to share it with you.

creativity

In 2024, I set out to be vulnerable

Christa Avampato
Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash

Each year, I choose a word to live by. In 2024, my word was vulnerability. I admire vulnerable people and wanted to get better at it.

I knew Phineas, my soul dog, was nearing the end of his life. He was struggling physically and mentally. On January 28th, I helped him cross the rainbow bridge. It leveled me. I had a hard time recovering. The grief is so deep because the love is so great. I asked for and receive so much support during this time. I’ll never stop missing Phin; I’m just learning how to better carry the grief. In 2024, I supported more animal charities and had my first foster dog success story to honor his memory. 

My second Emerson Page novel was released in May 2024, and I’d decided to do my first-ever book launch party. That was scary! I had visions of being in a room alone and no one showing up. I’m grateful to every one of you who showed up and packed the event. It was even more special than I ever dared to hope for.

My dissertation for my Master’s in Sustainability Leadership at University of Cambridge was due on July 29th. I’d set myself an enormous task by choosing a topic I didn’t know anything about. I had no idea where or how I would get the data, and I’d never written a full piece of academic writing by myself. I wrote about how storytelling can be used by climate entrepreneurs to connect to family offices and enlist them as partners and investors. Even my advisor was unsure how I could get it done since I had no previous connection to family offices. 

I could’ve chosen an easier, safer, and more comfortable topic. I chose to do work that needed to be done to protect nature. I gave it everything I had, conducted 50 interviews, and built a new practical storytelling model for climate entrepreneurs to pitch themselves to family offices. I’m grateful to everyone who participated and supported me. This dissertation is a beginning, not an ending, and I’m excited to see where it will go in 2025.

After my dissertation, I dedicated myself to the presidential election, canvassing, and taking on social media, voter registration, phone banking, and text banking responsibilities. I’m continuing to learn to use policy to fight for the causes that matter to me.

I wanted to get better at having honest conversations and leave nothing unsaid. This was uncomfortable and difficult for me because I was taught early on to be a grin-and-bear-it kind of person. I’ve gotten very good at balancing radical candor and radical kindness.

I worked hard to prioritize joy, peace, and happier-ness. I spent more time in nature and looked after my health. I challenged myself to learn Italian and improve my Spanish. I spent a lot of time on my friendships and building community – the greatest gift.

2024 held some stumbles, mistakes, and disappointments. I kept showing up and leaned in to curiosity and wonder. I feel stronger and braver, physically and mentally, ready to put it all to good use in 2025.

creativity

Combating Parkinson’s with rock climbing

Christa Avampato
Photos from https://www.upendingparkinsons.org/

“It’s nice to be good at something again.” 

I haven’t been able to get this sentence out of my mind. It was said by a 37-year-old man who was diagnosed with Parkinson’s, a neurological disorder that has begun to impact his gross and fine motor skills. He was featured in a news story about Up ENDing Parkinsons, a nonprofit that’s created a nationwide rock climbing program for people with Parkinson’s disease. 

This man mentioned he can no longer do things that he used to take for granted — typing, for example. To see him scale a rock climbing wall at this gym, you’d never know he was struggling to move. The journalist told him this and he got choked up. 

“This means a lot to you,” said the journalist. 

He nodded his head, cleared his throat, and said, “It’s nice to be good at something again.”

Parkinson’s has robbed this man of so much at such a young age. This program has given him back some joy and a sense of pride in himself. The value of that can’t be overstated. 

This story was a reminder to me that we all want to feel we’re good at something. I hope we can all take the time to recognize and acknowledge when those around us are good at something. It takes only a small amount of time and effort on our part, and yet the impact for the person receiving this acknowledgement is enormous. We never know just how much someone may need to hear that. The world is a difficult place right now, and many people feel broken. Let’s do our best to help people feel whole again, and lift them up whenever we can. Feed the good.

creativity

Taking the lighted path one step at a time

Christa Avampato
Photo by Johannes Plenio on Unsplash

I want to tell you a story about darkness and light. When I was diagnosed with cancer, and when almost died from cancer treatment (twice), it was often difficult to see beyond the darkness. I was standing in the crucible. At one point a lethal, unknown allergy to a chemo drug shattered my lungs and I was suffocating. We were deep in the pandemic in New York City before vaccines. The attending physician wanted to intubate me in the ICU, surrounded by COVID patients. At that time, being intubated was almost certainly a death sentence.

The ICU nurse insisted we try two more types of bedside respirators. “You have 10 minutes,” yelled the attending physician. “If her oxygen number doesn’t go up, I’m taking her to the ICU.” I had 10 minutes to save my life.

The nurse smiled at me. She tried the first machine. We waited. It didn’t work.

The nurse’s smile shrank. We tried the second machine. We waited. I looked at the ceiling. I called my ancestors. They were there. Not to intervene, only to catch me if it was my time to crossover. In that moment, all I wanted was my dog and the people I love. Love was all that mattered. Love was the secret to living, and it took possible death to teach me that.

I looked at the attending’s face. Her eyes grew wider. Her mouth fell open. I looked at the nurse; her smile had returned.

“Holy sh*t,” said the attending. 

My numbers were climbing. The attending left the room.

“I’ll be back to check on you throughout the night and we’ll be monitoring you from the desk just outside the door,” the nurse said as she placed the call button in my hand. “If you need anything, press this button.” 

I nodded. The nurse left the room. My ancestors smiled and walked back over a hill. 

“Not today, Death,” I thought. “Not today.”

When we’re deep in the darkness, we can only see our way forward if we raise our light and take one step at a time. Maybe that’s where you are right now. Things look dark. You can’t find a lamp. It turns out the light isn’t out there; it’s in you and the people around you. We are lights to each other. We can’t see the whole path, and that’s okay. Step by step, we’ll get there, together.

In the days ahead, I want you to hang on to that image of raising our light and being on the path together the way I hang on to what happened to me in 2020 in that hospital room when I was 10 minutes from death. Call your ancestors, friends, therapist, neighbors, religious leaders, and anyone in your community who is a light. We have a lot of challenges ahead to work on together and meeting them is going to take all of us being at our best. Take care of yourself now so we can take are of each other tomorrow. You got this, and I’ve got you. More tomorrow…

creativity

What a new health scare taught me about living

Christa Avampato
Photo of me in Prospect Park, Brooklyn.

This week, I had a short-lived health scare. A recent test came back with abnormal results. I was asymptomatic, as I was when diagnosed with cancer 4 years ago, so this threw me for a loop. It turned out to be a new side effect from my long-term meds that prevent cancer recurrence.

My doctor prescribed medication for a month to clear the inflammation and dietary changes to manage it since I have to stay on the meds causing this. It’s annoying. It’s also a relief that it was caught early and is reversible. I learned a lot with this recent scare. I’m leaning into these insights:

Slow down
I’m terrible at sitting still. Between the election in less than 2 weeks, climate change, and a myriad of other challenges in the world, there is a push to go go go. Do more, and faster. While this is true, it is also true that we have to rest. Take a walk. Eat well. Care for ourselves and others. Health is the greatest wealth. We are no good to anyone if we aren’t also good to ourselves. It’s not either or. It’s and.

Mortality
No matter how well we take care of ourselves, none of us will live forever. Time is our most precious resource, and we would do well to spend it on who, what, and where matters most to us.

Write
Around this time of year, I set my near-term priorities and creative focus. While writing is always a big part of my life, in 2025, it’ll be the central work I’ll do because storytelling is the work I love most & the greatest need I see in the world. I have quite a few writing projects in various states. It’s time to get them all polished up and out into the world. More on this soon.

Betting on me
Betting on myself is the best bet. I’ve never regretted it, even when things went horribly wrong. This is how I’ve learned and grown the most in my career and life. This is another reason I’m focusing on my writing in 2025.

Community
Caring for ourselves and betting ourselves is not work we do alone. It takes a village. My community and my medical team is central to my health, well-being, and creative work. I’m never alone in it. Neither are you.

Thank you for being on this journey of discovery with me. Let’s enjoy the ride. We’re all just walking each other home.

creativity

Are we thinking about leadership with the wrong metrics?

Christa Avampato
Photo by Steve Leisher on Unsplash

“We don’t elect a president based on policies. We shouldn’t. We should elect them for their character, because we don’t know what’s going to come up.” ~Retired Lieutenant General H.R. McMaster, former National Security Adviser

When we consider hiring (or electing) leaders, we often jump to their experience and policies. General McMaster is asking us to consider who they are. We live in a highly dynamic world. From one day to the next, we’re experiencing dramatic and sweeping changes. New information is widely and broadly disseminated at lightning speed. We need leaders who can operate in this paradigm and help others navigate it, too. 

Rather than looking at a leader’s past experience, what if we think about how they approach the future? Can a leader adapt and adjust? Are they flexible? Do they have a learning-mindset? A grow-mindset? Are they thoughtful? Are they collaborative? Do they care about the people they serve and support? Are they surrounded by bright, eager, caring people? Do they exhibit empathy and compassion? Is love a core value, and how have they demonstrated the use of love in their leadership?

How might hiring (and elections) shift if we embraced General McMaster’s advice? What kind of world might we be able to build together if the strength of someone’s character was consider at least as much as their experience and policies? 

This switch undoubtedly makes hiring and elections more nuanced, complex, and time-consuming. However, given the state of the world and rate of change we’re experiencing, leadership has never been more important to the stability of our planet and society. We deserve to have leaders who are up to the challenges of today and tomorrow. To find and hire these leaders, we need to invest the necessary time and effort to find out who they are, what we care about, and how they can help us move forward together.  

creativity

Can ecofiction inspire climate action?

Christa Avampato
Created by Christa Avampato using AI.

While on vacation I wrote my first full piece of ecofiction for a climate fiction writing competition. It’s a short story (5,000 words) that provides a slice of life in New York City in the year 2200, and grew out of the research I did for my University of Cambridge dissertation.

It’s told through the eyes of a journalist walking his dog who by chance meets the 90-year-old former mayor who galvanized the rebuilding of NYC after it was destroyed by floods caused by climate change. Biomimicry figures prominently in it. I tried to incorporate humor, heart, and redemption alongside the heartbreak, loss, and destruction. Ultimately, it’s a story about leadership, community, and vision.

No matter the outcome of the competition, I enjoyed writing it and plan to do more with these characters and in this genre. The predominant channels and messages we’re using for climate storytelling now are not generating the scale and speed of the changes we need. Fiction can play a bigger role is painting the picture of what a world transformed can look like, what it will take to get there, and how we might work together to make it so. The fandoms around fiction can be a unifying force for good, which is exactly what we need, now more than ever.

(I created the images below with AI, inspired by the story I wrote.)