Tag: writing

creativity

Saying goodbye to foster dog, Harold

Christa Avampato
Harold at my home

This is Harold, a sweet, gentle senior dog who I watched overnight. He had a vet appointment the next morning and his full-time foster wasn’t able to take him so I offered to help.

When he arrived, I fed him his dinner. He was still hungry so I made him some chicken and rice, which he happily gobbled up. He was so incredibly sweet and trusting.

I walked into my bedroom at one point and Harold followed me. He went right to my full-length mirror and inspected himself. I felt like he was telling me he was seeing a younger version of himself.

I was up all night with Harold. He was restless, anxious, and confused, walking back and forth between his food bowl and the front door. He had some pain in his back legs and the meds didn’t seem to help. Sometimes, he walked in circles. His behavior reminded me of Phinny’s end stages. I tried getting him to lay down, taking him for multiple walks throughout the night, putting him in his crate. Nothing worked. He was so uncomfortable and I felt terribly for him. I asked Phinny if he could help me figure out what to do to help Harold.

At one point, I nodded off in the middle of the night. I had a dream about Phinny. He was standing in front of an empty food bowl, just staring at me with sad eyes. When I jolted awake, I was afraid something was terribly wrong. I looked in my kitchen and Harold was hovering over his food bowl. Then, I understood what Phinny was telling me: Harold was ready to cross the rainbow bridge. I got Harold to sit down next to me for a bit. I stroked his soft, curly fur and tried to soothe him with my words. He was telling me it was his time.

The watercolor of a dachshund at the vet’s office

Morning arrived. I got ready and then walked to the subway with Harold. He was an absolute champ on the train. When we got to the vet, we had a short wait. In the lobby there was a watercolor print of a dachshund. I knew Phinny was with us.

The nurses did an intake and asked me some questions. I explained I’d just had him for one night and told her what I observed. As I watched Harold walk away with the nurse, he looked exhausted and worn out. My eyes welled up. I’d only had him for 16 hours and yet I felt like I’d known him much longer. I was afraid I might not see him again.

I texted with his foster and another rescue volunteer. We were talking about him having fospice (foster hospice) vibes. She said he’d improved some since he’d been with her. I gave her a rundown of everything I observed while he was with me.

The vet messaged me a few hours later that Harold was ready to get picked up. I went to get him since his full-time foster couldn’t get there before the vet closed. They wouldn’t give me any info directly about his check-up. He looked about the same to me. We walked back to the subway to go home and wait for his foster mom. Again, he was a star subway rider with perfect manners. As we walked home, he seemed to be giving me the same message: It was his time.

When we got home, he drank a whole bowl of water, and had a full plate of chicken and rice. He was so hungry from having to fast for his vet appointment. Then for the first time since he arrived at my house, he curled up in Phinny’s bed. Another sign that it was time.

Harold’s foster mom arrived at my apartment soon after Harold laid down. I got him up and we went outside. His foster wasn’t convinced that it was his time yet. He had improved so much since he’d been with her and she thought what I observed was just anxiety about being in a new home. I knew it was something more, and said so. I had to advocate for him.

His foster messaged me that night about some of the symptoms he was now exhibiting. She was seeing now what I saw. She messaged me again the following morning. The rescue made the painful decision to help Harold cross the rainbow bridge.

My eyes welled up again. I knew it was the right decision for Harold and still, I was heartbroken. I’m grateful he didn’t die alone on the streets or in a crowded shelter. He left this world surrounded by people who loved him. He got to go with dignity.

Run free, sweet Harold. I sent Phinny to meet you and show you around your new forever. Thank you for giving me the honor of looking after you when you needed me most. Thank you for trusting me to be your advocate. I will never forget you.

creativity

Sign up for Togetherhood – my nature newsletter

Christa Avampato
Sign up for Togetherhood – my nature newsletter

In my free weekly LinkedIn newsletter called Togetherhood, I share stories about nature’s wonders. Many of the posts are about my area of expertise— biomimicry. As a product developer, I apply nature’s designs to the human-built world to create a sustainable planet.

Read published posts and sign up to receive future posts here: https://www.linkedin.com/newsletters/togetherhood-7273771832221089792/

A little more about the newsletter – in case you need more convincing to subscribe 😉

1. Why this, why now

Right now we have a window of opportunity to halt and reverse the impacts of climate change. That window won’t be open forever, and if we are to protect and advance progress we need to act, together, now. I hope my stories about the wonders, wisdom, and beauty of nature will inspire all of us to take action to love, safeguard, and regenerate nature.

2. The kind of community you’ll find in the Togetherhood

This community is rooted in love, joy, respect, and curiosity for all species. We are here to learn together and support each other.

3. When I’ll share new stories

I’ll post once a week on Saturdays. I don’t have any plans to make this a paid newsletter. The content is free. It’s my gift to the world to share my expertise, support nature, and inspire wonder.

4. Join me in the Togetherhood

An old growth forest is one of my favorite environments and metaphors for life. It has wonders above and below ground. Every being in a forest is connected to every other being. It’s a web of life, literally and figuratively. I want the Togetherhood to be an old growth forest of stories. Let’s go have an adventure, together.

Read published posts and sign up to receive future posts here: https://www.linkedin.com/newsletters/togetherhood-7273771832221089792/

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

Writing is a light in the darkness

Christa Avampato

I process my grief through writing, and I thought it might be helpful to process all of this together. In the coming days, I’ll share stories that I hope inspire and heal you in the days, weeks, and months ahead. If you need to cocoon and not look at screens for a while, I understand. If you’re looking for something to read that could be a light in the darkness, I want to provide that for you. Please know you’re not alone in any of this. More soon…

Prospect Park, Brooklyn. Photo taken by Christa Avampato.
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

15 years of being alive

Christa Avampato
Emerson Page novel serieshttps://www.amazon.com/Emerson-Page-Where-Light-Enters/dp/1694109410/

Today marks 15 years since my NYC apartment building caught fire and I was almost trapped inside. My Alive Day started my difficult journey through one of the darkest times of mental health in my life. It also brought me Phineas as an emotional support dog and it made me a writer. I learned the difficult lesson that “someday” is today because today is all we have. On that journey, I learned how and why to really live. Emerson Page, the protagonist in my novels, was born from that pain. Her story saved me. Stories can save us all.

Forever grateful for my therapist and guide, Brian McCormack, and the many friends who showed up as angels on the path. And of course to Phinny and Emerson. Cheers to all of life’s chapters.

creativity

The Joy of Small Things

Christa Avampato
The Joy of Small Things by Hannah Jane Parkinson. Photo by Christa Avampato.

I bought the book The Joy of Small Things by Hannah Jane Parkinson at Books on the Hill, a magical independent family-run bookstore in St. Albans, Hertfordshire, a perfect London suburb. My friend, Milly, took me there when I visited her because she knew I’d love it. She knows me well. 

The bookstore building was originally constructed in 1600, was once a tearoom and a furniture shop, and has a resident ghost who is a monk traveling from the cathedral in the secret tunnels running below the city where he does the flower arranging. The Books on the Hill family also has a dachshund named Fergus. I asked the bookstore team if I could move in. I think they’re considering it. (Honestly, was I switched at birth, and am I possibly their long-lost daughter?!)

Hannah’s book caught my eye because it’s about joy, my favorite topic, and it has a dachshund on the front who looks exactly like my dear Phineas, who passed away in January at the ripe old age of 14 1/2. Also, Nigella Lawson, who is an absolute queen, recommends it. Obviously, I loved every word. It’s a book of short pieces that Hannah wrote for The Guardian about everyday joys. One of the pieces is about her love for dachshunds. The topics are wonderfully varied from three-minute pop songs to local graffiti to trainers (for my American friends, these are sneakers) to cemeteries and dozens of others. (Again, is Hannah my long-lost family member, too?!) 

I read the book in tiny bits because I didn’t want it to end. Hannah is hilarious and thoughtful, and I’m sure we would be best friends if we knew each other. She’s also British, so the turn of phrase and spelling in this book are a joy for me and take me right back to St. Albans with Milly. 

I’ve long been a journal writer. On August 1st, I started a new practice: a daily spreadsheet (another one of my small joys) where I jot down what brought me joy each day. I set a calendar reminder at 9:30pm each night with the question, “What brought you joy today?” and I fill in the spreadsheet. It’s now part of my bedtime routine, and I love it. It’s become a joy in itself.

creativity

Emerson Page novels named Indie Author Project Select books

Christa Avampato
Emerson Page and Where the Light Leads at the Castlerigg Stone Circle in Keswick, part of the U.K.’s Lake District.
Photo by Christa Avampato.

Both of my Emerson Page novels, Where the Light Enters and Where the Light Leads, were named Indie Author Project (IAP) Select books, making the eBooks available and recommended to libraries across the U.S. and Canada. Curated by Library Journal and library editorial boards across North America, the books are chosen by editors and librarians from thousands of submissions.

IAP Select features NY Times and USA Today best-selling authors and numerous award winners, as well as emerging authors. This also means my books are now being considered for the Indie Author Project Annual Contest. Winners will be announced in November.

Thank you to the IAP Select committee for this honor. I’m looking forward to connecting with more readers and libraries!

 

creativity

The Ripped Bodice bookstore shines a light on romance

Christa Avampato
The Ripped Bodice bookstore. Photo by Christa Avampato.

Yesterday, I went to the Brooklyn romance indie bookstore, The Ripped Bodice. I went to brunch to celebrate my dear friend, Ashley, and we decided to stop in as we passed by since I’d never been before. From the moment we arrived, it felt like we left the world behind and entered into a world built, nurtured, and protected by love in all its forms. From the boho color scheme to the books curated with humor and spice to the friendly happy staff, the store feels like a joyful, knowing hug. Started by sisters Bea and Leah in LA, the Brooklyn store celebrates its 1 year birthday this month. (Of course, it’s a Leo!)

I think of romance as a macro genre of literature that spans many other genres as a theme to drive characters and plots. Whatever genre a reader loves, romance can be part of it. At The Ripped Bodice, readers can find romance books within history, historical fiction, comedy, mythology, young adult, fantasy, sci-fi, adventure, literary fiction, suspense, mystery, and the list goes on. The Ripped Bodice also has a fantastic card and gift selection that induces smiles and giggles with tea, candles, chocolate, coffee, stickers, bookmarks, canvas bags, and more.

I’m so glad The Ripped Bodice bookstore exists. It’s putting love front and center in a world that needs more of it. Yesterday was my first visit, and it will definitely be a place I visit again and again.

The Ripped Bodice Brooklyn is located at 218 5th Avenue in the Park Slope neighborhood.