It can be difficult to get from day to day when we feel like we’re stuck, or even worse, going backward. We are, rightly, obsessed with progress and forward momentum.
But life will sometimes slow us down. Something will stand in our way, seemingly immovable, and so we have to search for a way up, over, and most often, through. Illness and injury are the most palpable examples of what it feels like to be held back, no longer able to do what we once could. Maybe it’s temporary. Maybe it’s permanent. All of it is frustrating at best, and often downright depressing.
Over the past 5 years, I’ve been held back a lot. My health took a lot of time and effort to restore. It still takes a lot of time and effort to maintain. Side effects are a daily struggle, and I’m only half way through the decade of meds I need to take. This is the hand I’ve been dealt.
When I see myself being held back, and even actively pulled backward, I close my eyes and remind myself I am like a bow and arrow. To fly forward, an arrow must be drawn back. The stronger the force pulling it back, the further it will fly when eventually that force relents. And it will always eventually relent, releasing the arrow.
What keeps me going in moments of regression is knowing that one day I will get past all these obstacles standing in my way. In the meantime, I am getting stronger, more resilient, and learning because of these setbacks. I am an arrow, and my day to fly will arrive.
As I close in on 2 weeks until my med shift, I’m feeling pretty run down. Work is very busy (in a good way). I’m trying to adjust my sleep schedule to match what my senior foster dog needs. I have a bunch of personal project deadlines coming up in the next few weeks. I’m making time for out-of-town guests and fun because it’s summer. And I decided to take vacation after all because, again, it’s summer.
For a couple of days, I skipped my FitOn workouts. I’ve been working out with the FitOn app since 2022 and it helps me manage many of my side effects: fatigue, insomnia, joint pain, muscle pain, and my mental health. (It’s free and has so many excellent coaches and classes!) Yesterday I was feeling cranky and the area all the way around my shoulder joint was hurting. Though I’m taking my foster dog on many walks every day (older dogs need to go outside more often!), I’ve skimped on my own daily workouts. My mind and body were both feeling it.
When we’re crunched for time, we often let our own needs fall by the wayside. That’s exactly what I was doing. A number of years ago, one of my yoga teachers said to me, “Motion is lotion. When we move our bodies more, we find it’s easier to move our bodies more. The more we don’t move, the harder it is to get moving.”
So despite being tired and geared up for a long day of work ahead of me, I got my workout in this morning and felt better for it. I really can’t skip any of my daily workouts. Lesson learned, over and over again.
Print by Nicole Barsaleau. Photo by Christa Avampato.
My friend, Alex, sent me this print by Nicole Barsaleau a few years ago. I have it framed in my kitchen and I read it often. It reminds me of something my therapist, Brian, said to me many moons ago: “The prana (the all-knowing energy) cares about you and also cares about the system.” In other words, as we get better, we make everything around us better, too.
When I first got sick, I was angry and confused. How could this happen to ME? I try to do everything right. I follow all the rules and best practices. I take care of myself. How could I get cancer at a young age? Scientifically, I knew I was exposed to toxic fertilizers and industrial pollution in my hometown where I grew up. I understood cancer happens when one of our cells has a mutation that our immune system misses and then it quickly replicates while masquerading as a normal cell. Cancer is a sneaky little f*cker.
“This cancer came to hone you,” Brian said in one of our sessions as I was preparing for surgery and the long treatment road. “There will be a kind of death. And also a rebirth.”
To which I responded, “The Universe couldn’t hone me with something that WASN’T cancer?!”
I didn’t choose cancer but I could choose how to approach it and learn from it. Part of living is to make meaning of the things that happen to us. To do some good with whatever finds us, particularly if we didn’t choose it. What good was I going to do with cancer if I lived to restore my health? That puzzle kept me looking forward and reaching out. It still does. Universe willing, I’ll be learning from cancer and using what I learn to help others for many years to come.
I’ve coached people through their own illnesses, many of them different types of cancer. I’ve participated in clinical trials that yielded new medications and treatments. I’ve referred friends to my doctors. I’ve written articles and done interviews about my experience and they’ve helped thousands of patients and caregivers make a way out of no way. My nearly dying from Taxol changed the way my cancer center evaluates bloodwork to identify a rare but potentially lethal side effect at its earliest stages. I’ve signed off to have my data join with thousands of others in enormous databases for scientists to use today and in the future.
“Use this body for science,” I tell my doctors. They did. They still do. They will continue to.
In an ironic way, cancer made me healthier, happier, more grateful, and less stressed because I learned to make my own health my single biggest priority. Without it, I can’t do anything for anyone.
Do I wish I could have learned that without cancer? Sure. Do I think I would have? Maybe briefly but it wouldn’t have stuck. Now, my body, mind, and spirit force me to maintain it.
Sunset from Bay Ridge, Brooklyn. Photo by Christa Avampato.
“If you can get 1 percent better each day for one year, you’ll end up thirty-seven times better by the time you’re done.” ~James Clear, Atomic Habits
I don’t need to shoot up like a rocket in any facet of my life to have the life I want. Instead, I’m consistent. Every day I try to be a bit better, do a bit better. Those small consistent changes are sustainable and measurable. They add up and they matter. This might feel slow. Some days I feel like I’m not making any progress toward something that’s really important to me.
But then I look back a month, a year, two years, five years. I see how far I’ve come. I look at old pictures and I see how sick I looked. I remember how sick I felt all the time. I still feel sick a lot but I’ve learned to not dwell on it. I acknowledge it.
“I see you trying, body,” I say. “Okay, we’ll rest for a moment.”
I take a deep breath. I pull myself up. I remind myself every day how far I’ve come. I keep going. I do things that make me happy. Things that bring me joy.
And tomorrow, I’ll do it all over again, I hope. Universe willing. For many, many days to come. Long may it continue.
The Little Prince statue outside of Villa Albertine. NYC. Photo by Christa Avampato
“You never know how strong you are until being strong is your only choice.” ~Bob Marley
When I was going through cancer, a lot of people said to me that they couldn’t do what I was doing if faced with the same situation. They meant it as a compliment and I absolutely appreciated it. The truth is that strength was my only option. The choice was be strong or die. Blunt but true (this is basically the best description of me. Ha!)
A few years ago a dear friend of mine was diagnosed with breast cancer and she had to start making the lightning fast decisions I had to make. When I was going through it, she sent me care packages and messages of love and support. The first time I saw her after her diagnosis, she gave me a huge hug and said, “I knew you were going through a lot but I had no idea just how much it was. And you had to do it during the pandemic and on your own.”
She almost sounded apologetic. I told her very truthfully, “There’s no way you could have know. There’s no way to explain to someone what it’s like to have to face a bilateral mastectomy, reconstruction, chemo, radiation, and heavy doses of medications for a decade to try to save my life.” There just aren’t words to sum up all of that – the physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual strain. The only people who really understand are people who live it.
I recently heard about a program called Camp Breastie, a summer camp of sorts for breast cancer survivors organized by the nonprofit The Breasties. The article said one of the most profound benefits of the camp is that attendees don’t have to explain what they went through or how it felt because everyone there just knows. Everyone gets it. And there’s a real freedom in that. And so, I’m thinking about going next year. I’ve coached a number of people through cancer and health challenges after surviving my own. I think going to this kind of event would be a way to fill my own cup, to care for myself. It could be another source of strength; after all, building community builds us up.
This is me after acupuncture today. It was my 10th session with the incredible Dr. Degenhardt at NYU Langone Health. My body’s responded so well to the treatments that I have no more blocks in my body. Now we are moving on to strength building in my core, left hip, and left leg. This is a huge milestone and we got here much faster than expected.
Tomorrow marks my 28 day countdown to my medication switch. Over the weekend, I opened my last bottle of letrozole – a medication I’ve taken for 5 years to prevent cancer recurrence. The side effects it’s caused, along with the side effects from my other treatments, are what brought me to Dr. Degenhardt. The medication did its job, and also took its toll. The hope is that this new medication will be easier on my body.
To mark this turning point, I made a special dinner: zaalouk, a Moroccan dish that is synonymous with celebration. It’s meant to be scooped up and savored with our hands – a tactile experience to nourish ourselves. I made these za’atar flatbreads by combining greek yogurt, flour, salt, baking powder, and olive oil. It’s all topped with toasted harissa chickpeas – a symbol of prosperity, continuity, the cycle of life, feminine health, the sustaining power of nature, and the desire for a good life. All fitting for this day.
When I was a kid, I loved making paper chains that countdown to Christmas. When I was going through radiation (another treatment that precipitated side effects Dr. Degenhardt is clearing!), I made a paper chain with inspiring quotes to count down the days of that treatment. I’m going to do that this month as well, but rather than a paper chain, I’m going to count down the days by sharing my thoughts about these past 5 years via writing.
Thank you to everyone who has played a part in this journey in so many ways. I’m so grateful. I’m the luckiest, and I know it.
Yesterday, a new chapter in my life began. I got my last Lupron shot. This is a photo of me outside Perlmutter Cancer Center right after I got my shot. I couldn’t stop smiling, and right after this photo I cried many happy tears.
By the end of August, it will be out of my system and I’ll transition to a new medication regimen to keep cancer recurrence at bay now that I’m approaching the five-year mark since the end of active treatment. For a few weeks the old and new meds will mingle in my body — orchestrating the hand-off as one recedes into my past and the other ramps up to carry me into the future for the next 5 years. The hope is that this new medication will cause less chronic pain and fewer, less severe side effects than what I’ve been taking for 5 years while also protecting me from having a recurrence.
These past 5 years have required me to break down and rebuild every area of my life several times over. It’s felt like a constant dance of doing and undoing. Just as I started healing and getting my bearings, something else would send me back to square one. To get through, I reminded myself that this is exactly the process that also strengthens muscles. I’m very strong physically and mentally. I’m also very tired.
All I can do is what I’ve been doing. Living each day, one day at a time, as best I can. It’s all any of us can do.
After my June 18th storytelling show at the AKC Museum of the Dog, I’ll be taking it easy this summer, mostly because I need to start this new chapter as healthy as possible. As I bid farewell to these medications that massively impacted my body and mind, I’m grateful for their service and everything they taught me. I’m grateful that they worked as hoped, even though they made daily life difficult every day. I’m still here and that’s what matters.
On Monday, I felt like I walked through a portal into a different world. Not through a book or movie, but in real life. This is a story about determination, the power of technology to improve our health, and the desire to heal through a combination of Eastern and Western medicine.
The Long Tail of Cancer Treatment
When I went through ACT chemo, a notoriously difficult treatment, I received acupuncture with Ryan Smith after every round. I responded exceptionally well, experiencing fewer side effects than most because of acupuncture. Now five years into cancer survivorship, I face a lot of daily side effects that I need to manage: fatigue, pain, anxiety, hot flashes, insomnia, and weight management are just a few of them. In August, my med regimen changes because I am (thankfully and gratefully!) five years out from active treatment and disease-free. Med changes are frightening for me because when I transitioned from ACT chemo to Taxol, Taxol nearly killed me twice. It turns out I have a deathly allergy to it and I received dense-dose treatment. So, add that to my anxiety load.
I knew acupuncture could help with these side effects and ease my August med transition. However, the cost of regular individual sessions has gotten prohibitive in NYC, where I live. I searched relentlessly for an acupuncturist skilled at cancer survivorship who also took my insurance. I came up empty-handed every time. For years, I heard the common refrain: acupuncturists do not take insurance. Stop looking, bite the bullet, and pay the small fortune as an investment in your health.
And then I tried one last time. I called United Healthcare, my insurance company, to ask if I could submit partial reimbursement for anyone in their network. The agent came back with something even better: a list of medical doctors practicing acupuncture in my insurance network. I was floored. And then I immediately assumed the experience would not match the care I received from Ryan during my chemo days.
Hacking the System with AI
I popped the list of providers into AI, explained my needs, and asked if it could identify a doctor who met my criteria. AI returned one name and identified the perfect provider for me: an MD, MPH, and acupuncturist who takes my insurance, conveniently located in midtown Manhattan at NYU Langone (where I already get all my medical care) with stellar reviews of 4.8 out of 5 stars after almost 3,000 patient ratings. Rather than paying almost $200 per session, I will pay my $40 co-pay. My mouth fell open. Could this be the diamond I searched for all these years?
I went in for my consultation a month ago, and in 15 minutes he showed me exactly how acupuncture could alleviate my side effects because they all stem from my body’s structure. I wrinkled my forehead. Structural? He explained the radiation I received on my left side essentially split my body in half, tightening my entire left side from my neck to my toes, which directly contributed to my symptoms. Through a few quick mobility tasks, he demonstrated that the strength and flexibility of my right and left sides were so different it felt as if I was two different people. All of that tension originated from the radiation on my left side, causing my left shoulder to tighten and roll forward compared to my right. Acupuncture, over time, could unblock all of that, allowing us to reteach my left side how to stay open.
I told him I believed completely in the power of acupuncture, and he said I did not have to believe. I will actually see the effects after every session. We do mobility tests before the treatment, and then we repeat the mobility tests afterward.
The Moment of Release
On Monday, he combined acupuncture, heat, and electrode stimulus for my first session. My body accepted the treatment so readily that my left side was actually freer than my right side post-treatment. Even he was surprised at how much my body wants to heal. That release lasted for about 72 hours. Not bad for being crunched for five years. As I left the office, I felt my life begin to shift. I felt unleashed.
What Comes Next
Our plan includes weekly sessions for four weeks. Then we will re-evaluate. We also plan to try a few other complimentary treatments, including a saline drip he developed to release the layers of fascia in my scar tissue from one another. I cannot wait to see what lies ahead, and how healing myself will help heal the world around me. And I cannot wait to share it all with you.
At the Milan Olympics, ice skater and gold medal winner, Alysa Liu, proved we don’t have to carry the heavy expectations others try to place on us. We can choose joy on our own terms instead.
Jaybeeinbigd22, CC0, via Wikimedia Commons. Link to image.
The typical Olympic broadcast follows a strict script. The music swells with drama. Commentators emphasize the crushing weight of the moment, the years of agonizing sacrifice, and the unbearable pressure on the athletes. We watch the screen and expect to see stress etched into every competitor’s face. We treat suffering as the ultimate proof of dedication.
Then Alysa Liu stepped onto the ice in Milan.
The media desperately wanted the classic, grueling redemption arc. They wanted the tears and the drama of a comeback. Alysa simply declined to participate. She refused to let the sport, the commentators, or anyone else tell her how to feel.
When interviewers tried to hand her a narrative of crushing pressure, she set a firm boundary. She clarified that their anxiety belonged to them, not to her. She left them with their own heavy baggage and skated with pure joy, freedom, and love for the sport.
She performed her way.
The Performative Stress Trap
That level of boundary-setting offers a profound lesson for all of us, especially in our professional lives.
Every day, people try to hand us their stress. A chaotic workplace demands our panic. A frantic project timeline insists we sacrifice our well-being. We absorb this urgency as if it is mandatory. People tell us this is the job and there is no other way; it is a job after all, right? We learn to perform stress to prove we care about our jobs, our communities, and our goals. If you aren’t exhausted and worn out, you don’t care enough about anything.
Alysa proves this burden is optional. You can care deeply and perform at the highest level without letting anxiety consume you.
Bring the Olympic Ice to the Office
Figure skating is Alysa Liu’s actual job. She treats it with immense respect and masters her craft, but she refuses to let the job dictate her emotional state. We can apply this exact framework to our own careers to protect our energy and reclaim our joy.
Reject the manufactured panic: Colleagues and clients often treat minor delays as catastrophes. You do not have to participate in their panic. You can calmly solve the problem without absorbing the frantic energy.
Decouple exhaustion from value: Corporate culture often rewards burnout as a badge of honor. Challenge that standard. You can deliver exceptional results on a project while maintaining firm boundaries around your evenings and weekends.
Treat joy as a performance enhancer: Alysa performs better because she skates free of anxiety. We execute our best ideas, strategies, and creative work when we feel relaxed and engaged, not when we feel terrified of failure.
We often believe that caring about our work requires us to suffer for it. We confuse anxiety with dedication.
This week, look closely at the emotional loads you carry at work. Are they yours, or did someone else hand them to you? You have the power to reject the default setting of suffering. You can choose to execute your work, live your life, and navigate your challenges with relaxation and fun.
You get to decide how you experience your own career. We are all a work in progress, and there is a freedom in knowing, living, and working with that truth. Your freedom and joy can and will inspire others. Alysa proved that to all of us. Let your own light shine, and go out there and be a light for others.
Happy New Year! Each year I select a word to guide my thoughts and actions. In 2025, I chose Rebuild. Now, with that foundation, I’m ready to scale the efforts I’ve loved most.
2026 at a Glance:
The Word:Momentum (finding the moment within the movement).
The Focus: Scaling NYC’s Secrets & Lies, adopting a heart dog, and publishing in a dream publication.
The Goal: Moving from “rebuilding” to intentional acceleration in community, health, and creativity.
Within the word “Momentum” is the word “Moment”. That’s where I want to be in 2026 – in the moment, in every moment. I want to focus on my lived experience each day.
Even with all the challenges and difficulties in the world, in 2025 I found ways to build community through longer tables and creative projects that inspire wonder and curiosity. It’s made me so happy to reflect on that and think about how that can continue in 2026.
Here are some of the areas that interest me most. What are you thinking of in 2026?
Storytelling
I am beyond thrilled that my show NYC’s Secrets & Lies is back and that so many lovely people have filled out audience and graced the stage with their knowledge and humor. This show encapsulates so many things I love: storytelling, a celebration of NYC, history, laughter, and awe. I know how lucky I am to call this city home and I love nothing more than sharing all the wild stories of our collective past that still exists on every street. I’ve also made some of my very best friends because of this show, and those relationships have saved and transformed my life.
We started doing location-based shows with partners in 2025, the dream I always had, and I can’t wait to create more of those immersive environments for our audiences in 2026. Our show at the Seaport Museum was a huge success and they were wonderful to work with so I’m hoping we can do more projects together.
We’re already working on some fun plans during this very momentous year in our city’s history to celebrate:
NYC’s 400th anniversary
The country’s 250th anniversary
100th anniversary of Houdini‘s death on Halloween (yep – he was a New Yorker!)
National Pet Adoption Week in March
Our first outdoor show in April with Natural Areas Conservancy for Earth Day
Climate Week shows in San Francisco (nature in the San Francisco area) and in NYC (NYC food history)
A few things we’re considering in addition to our shows:
Free field trips where a group of us go to an interesting location in NYC and learn about its history
Reading club on historical topics
Potluck dinners with historical recipes
Entering the Great Borough Bake-off at Museum of the City of New York
Dogs
In January 2024, I lost my soul dog, Phineas, after 13 1/2 years together.2024 was a painful year. Sometimes I could barely breathe because the grief was so heavy. It was the worst grief I’ve ever felt. At the very end of 2024 and through 2025, I fostered 10 dogs through Muddy Paws Rescue and became an active volunteer with the organization. I never imagined I would become as involved as I am. More than anything else I’ve done, fostering and volunteering to save shelter dogs has helped me heal. I still miss Phinny every single day. I will miss him every day for the rest of my life.
2025 taught me how to carry the grief of losing Phinny and the joy of rescuing other dogs like him. He never left me, not really. I feel his spirit with me always. There are, sadly, so many shelter dogs who need forever homes. In 2026, I want to get even more involved with helping more shelter dogs. I don’t know exactly what that looks like yet.
I am ready to adopt my heart dog and especially excited to go through therapy dog training with them. My hope is that we’ll become a certified team so we can visit chemo patients and participate in library programs where kids read to dogs.
Writing
At the end of 2025, I pitched an article to my dream publication and they accepted it! This is the good news I hinted at yesterday—I’m so thrilled to finally share it. I’m working on the piece right now and will share it once it’s published.
I spent 2025 further honing my writing skills in different genres and formats, and now I’m excited to put more of it out into the world in more publications and platforms. I learn so much as a writer by reading, and I’m trying to read more books and better track the books I read in a fun analog way.
Learning
2025 brought me many opportunities to learn new skills and grow my areas of expertise. Some of them came through work and many of them I explored on my own. I continued my language learning and I want to build on that in the new year. I signed up for Masterclass again because a few of their courses caught my eye and there was a massive 50% off sale for the new year. My interests vary widely so a platform like Masterclass is perfect for me. I loved their programs that I took a few years ago so I’m excited to dive back into it. I’d also like to find more opportunities to learn alongside others.
Nature
In 2025, I graduated with my Master’s in Sustainability Leadership at University of Cambridge. That was an enormous personal and professional accomplishment. I fulfilled my dream of studying abroad with the most incredible group of people who inspire me every day.
I had hoped to transition my full-time work into climate but political circumstances being what they are in the U.S., that didn’t happen. Through writing my Togetherhood newsletter, storytelling, and advocacy work, I’ve been able to be involved with the climate community and aid collective efforts. In 2026, I’d like to explore more ways that I can help even if my full-time work is not rooted in sustainability. Sometimes, dreams take longer than we’d like. The route isn’t as clear as we planned. The planet needs tending, and in 2026 I want to find opportunities to use what I have where I am to be useful.
Travel
In 2025, I finally got to Italy and Scandinavia, two places that have been on my list for some time. In June, I’ll skip back across the pond to reunite with my Cambridge classmates in London for our now-annual get-together. I’m already looking forward to that. I also decided to plan more weekends away. That’s something I don’t typically do. I’m not sure why I’ve not planned that more often – maybe because I love NYC so much and there is always a lot to do here.
In 2026, I’m going to make the effort to explore more and visit more friends who live outside of NYC. I’m hoping to finally get to Asia, another area of the world I’ve not yet visited.
Home and Finance
I’m very lucky to have a stable living situation after years of being a market-rate renter in a city that is insanely expensive. I love my Brooklyn neighborhood and my apartment. In 2025, I crunched the numbers many times and it didn’t make financial sense to buy a place of my own because of the deal I have in my place now and the soaring interest rates and downpayment requirements. I’ll continue to keep an eye on that in 2026 to see if anything changes. In the meantime, I’m working closely with my financial planner to save for a home down the line. I’m also refreshing my space with some new design touches.
Love Dating apps did not bring me joy in 2025. Even the mechanics of them are off-putting to me. I know they work for lots of people, so I’ve not abandoned them completely. I’d like to put myself in situations to meet more people who share my interests, and maybe that will also include a partner who is as wonderful as my friends. That’s the only kind of partner I’m interested in having. It’s worth trying. At the very least, I’ll meet interesting people who become friends.
Health
And finally, my health is the basis of all my dreams. It’s really true that health is the first wealth. I learned a lot in 2025 about medicine, nutrition, exercise, and the value of rest. I healed from a few injuries and in the process learned how to better care for my body. In 2026, I’d like to refocus on more meditation – that’s a practice I fell away from in 2025 and I always feel better when it’s part of my routine. I experimented a lot with new recipes, and loved the art and eating of cooking and baking. I want to continue that and invite more people to have meals with me in my home.
2025 marked 5 years since my cancer diagnosis and I’m grateful for my restored health. In 2026, I’ll mark 5 years since the end of active treatment and finish taking one of my medications that may also lead to a change in another of my medications. While these are all positive changes, I’m always wary of new meds and med changes because of past experiences I’ve had. I’m exploring ways to support myself in that process – maybe through acupuncture, saunas, and other holistic modalities.
Some closing thoughts
2025 saw a lot of upheaval and pain around the world. Through donations to and volunteering with organizations doing work, I was able to help others and that is something I will always continue to do. Improving the lives of all beings and the planet has to happen as a collective, and I’m looking forward to using my good health, resources, and skills to further cultivate community and cheer loudly for others in 2026.
Happy New Year. I’m glad we’re here together. Long may that continue.
What is one area where you’re looking to find momentum this year?
Christa Avampato 