creativity

Day 21: Healing in the dirt

Photo by Christa Avampato

“Of all the paths you take in life, make sure a few of them are dirt.” ~John Muir

I grew up in the dirt, literally. There was (and still is) a tractor crossing sign across the street from the house where I grew up. My rural hometown fostered a childhood that involved climbing trees and making mud pies. When I was little, I was convinced that there was a dinosaur skeleton hiding under the ground in my backyard. I enlisted my sister, Weez, to help me dig and dig and dig. All we found was a small mouse skeleton, but I thought it was clearly a prehistoric mouse!

Nature and science have been sources of healing for me on this journey and throughout my life. Other kids wanted to be doctors, firefighters, or teachers. I wanted to be a paleontologist. I still do. Whenever I get to see my dear friend, mentor, and science hero, Dr. Ken Lacovara, I get to soak in all his paleontology wisdom. (More in a separate post later about his beautiful science museum, the Edelman Fossil Park, that I just visited with my wonderful friends, Wayne and Ernie.

My childhood was far from idyllic, but there were some very positive things about growing up in the sticks. I got my hands dirty in the process of making things. I grew up in a farming community. Animals were my friends and companions, as much as people. Maybe even more than people. I learned to appreciate the Earth, her majesty and her power. Weather was a way of life, and I still watch it with fascination and wonder. I also thought long and hard about being a meteorologist, and that dream led me to study environmental sustainability at University of Cambridge.

More people today talk about being eager to get into mud. There’s a trend of younger people returning to the land and regenerative farming. I completely understand that calling. It lives in my bones.

There’s something to be said for the slow life, the life we build rather than the life we buy shrink-wrapped and delivered right to our doorstep. Creation builds confidence and bolsters the imagination. It makes us self-sufficient. I’m all for it, for all of us. There’s a lot of beauty and authenticity down there in the mud.

In late August, I’m taking a trip north to get into the dirt, sand, and water. I just finalized those plans today. Adventure awaits. I can’t wait to take you with me.

creativity

Day 22: Now is the time we’ve been waiting for

The tiny shooting star in the lower center of this image is Comet Neowise pictured from the International Space Station as it orbited above the Mediterranean Sea in between Tunisia and Italy. July 5, 2020. NASA’s Johnson Space Center. Original image: images-assets.nasa.gov/image/iss063e040067/iss063e040067~orig.jpg

“Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn’t do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.” ~ Author H. Jackson Brown, Jr.

Here’s something I caught myself saying too often for a long time, “I’ll do X when…” as if I was waiting for the perfect time, the perfect circumstances, the perfect me to emerge to do something.

Every once in a while I still find myself in that headspace. Habits are hard to break and they are annoyingly good at re-emerging just when we thought we’d changed them for good. Thankfully I catch myself when this happens now. As soon as this thought crosses my mind, I give myself a talking to.

“Honey,” I say to myself, “Perfection isn’t on its way. Not today. Not ever. Do it. Or don’t. But stop waiting. Just choose.”

Then I laugh and get on with it, or decide not to.

I’ve got a little list of things I’ve been waiting to do. Slowly but surely, I’m getting them done or at least giving them my best shot.

Three fun things I did recently:

1.) I applied to be an independent content creator for NASA. It was quite the administrative web to navigate but I did it and put in my application just before the deadline.

2.) I submitted a vulnerable piece of writing for the Modern Love column in The New York Times.

3.) I put in my application to be a volunteer at the 2028 Olympics.

Will any of this work out? Maybe, maybe not! But you know what? I’ll always be glad I shot my shot!

creativity

Day 23: The secret of life

Halftime show at the 2026 FIFA World Cup. https://youtu.be/B7hIiaXBpco?si=Xr-h5q5_U-tsXxnZ

I’ve never cried during a halftime show of a sports event until today. During the FIFA World Cup between Spain and Argentina, the halftime show had a theme of love and the unifying power of music. For each other and for ourselves. Chris Martin of Cold Play and Global Citizen created it. I danced around my living room and sang along, so excited to see the breadth and depth of the performers from across the world: The Muppets including Sesame Street characters and The Electric Mayhem, Shakira with Burna Boy and Ghetto Kids, Staten Island’s PS22 Chorus, Jason Sudeikis in full Ted Lasso mode, conductor Gustavo Dudamel leading the New York Philharmonic and the Simón Bolívar Symphony Orchestra, Madonna, BTS, Justin Bieber, and Emmanuel Kelly. I’ll be watching it on repeat here. An eclectic mashup full of unbridled joy is the boost I needed.

Joy was part of my care plan when I went through cancer. Every day, no matter what happened, I found something that brought me joy. Sometimes it was a song, a show or movie, a friend, a good test result, my dog, something delicious, taking a walk with my sister, sunshine. It didn’t take long after I was diagnosed to realize the secret of life is to love and be loved. It’s that simple and that complex.

Love saved me more than once on that journey – friends who got me to the ER and took care of my dog, care packages, cards, flowers, texts, phone calls, and emails when I needed to know I wasn’t alone in all this, my sister staying with me for many weeks while I recovered from surgeries, friends who got me grocery gift cards that I used when I was finally strong enough to shop for myself again, my business school friends who put together a recorded zoom and daily emails to spell out a secret message – “Stay Strong And Full Of Light.” I’m going to get that as a tattoo.

I’m reminded that in the midst of tragedy and sadness, a beauty emerges that isn’t always as apparent in good times. Maybe that’s because difficulty strips away some kind of inhibition that holds us back too often from saying and showing how we feel. During cancer I had the chance to hear things from people that are often only said during someone’s eulogy. One of the great gifts of cancer and almost dying is that I got to hear those things while very much alive. I’ll always be grateful for that and all the love that surrounded me. When I was down to nothing, love shone brighter than ever. Isn’t that something?

creativity

Day 24: What are we waiting for?

Using my new Beautiful by Drew plates today. Just for me.

We’ve all uttered the phrase, “Someday I’ll…” It applies to big dreams and small delights. Earlier this year, I’d planned to make brunch for friends. I’d worked out a lovely feast as cooking and baking are two of my favorite pastimes. I bought new cookware, bakeware, and plates for the occasion (thank you Drew Barrymore!)

The winter being what it was meant we decided to cancel, and sadly never rescheduled. I was sad about this. I never even opened the box of Beautiful by Drew plates. I just put the sealed box in the back of my closet for someday. After all, why should I have new plates just for myself. I’d wait until a special occasion. Every time I saw it, I felt a little pang. Missed opportunity. Missed connection. Missed fun.

Today as I was cleaning and reorganizing, I saw the sealed box. What was I waiting for, exactly? Why not use the new beautiful plates myself? I opened it, took out the new plates, and swapped out my old ones which are chipped and have seen better days. And thoroughly enjoyed them.

Over the past few months, I’ve been redecorating my apartment and rewarding myself with tiny splurges. These new plates, cookware, and bakeware. A few new small appliances in my kitchen. Painting my apartment. A few new pieces of furniture. New art. New books I’m excited to read. A new yoga mat. I’ve even learned to successfully take those spiderettes from spider plants and make whole new plants from them (a massive accomplishment for someone with no green thumb!) These are all small things that have brought me daily joy and they’ve added up to something wonderful – making someday today. We deserve it. We’re worth it.

creativity

Day 25: How I start every morning since being diagnosed with cancer

Central Park sunrise while walking my soul dog, Phineas. NYC. Photo by Christa Avampato.

“This is a wonderful day. I have never seen this one before.” ~Maya Angelou

Since being diagnosed with cancer in October 2020, I’ve started every morning the exact same way. I open my eyes, stretch my arms, and say, “Whew! Got another one!” I say this no matter how I’m feeling, and no matter what the day ahead holds for me.

I’m grateful for all my days, especially the tough ones (and there are a lot of tough ones), because at least I got to have them. And that wasn’t always an assumption. Some nights on this journey, I went to sleep with the fear that I might not wake up again. That’s not me being dramatic; that was a science-backed possibility. It’s never left me. It never will.

Now that I know how short my life could have been, I’m unendingly grateful for how long it now could be thanks to science, medicine, joy, and love. What a blessing to see every wonderful day.

creativity

Day 26: Sometimes strong is the only option

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.

creativity

Day 27: It takes a village to heal

Healing is a group sport. None of us do it alone. My team is enormous and varied, clinically and personally, earth-bound and spiritually. We’re all involved in an intricate dance where even the steps that seem backward in the moment are just part of how this journey unfolds in real-time. Healing isn’t linear. It can’t be. The world and our bodies are forever in motion on the macro and micro levels. Life is chancey and we never know exactly what’s around the bend.

I see this unfold with my foster dogs on an accelerated timeline. I think it’s one of the great tragedies that our beloved best furry friends (bffs) never live long enough no matter how many years we have them. The best we can do is make every day a great day with them.

My current foster is Blondie. She may be familiar to you. I picked up this little senior lady at Animal Care Centers of NYC last summer and fostered her for Muddy Paws. She was adopted quickly because she’s a sweetheart 🥹 and sadly returned 😭.

On top of the very difficult life she had prior to being found running alone and terrified through traffic on the BQE (!) 🤯 and taken to the ACC by a good samaritan, she’s faced a number of health challenges recently.😥

Now she’s back with me. Thanks to the INCREDIBLE care provided by our rockstar Muddy Paws vet team (YES, we have a veterinarian and vet tech on staff in our very own vet clinic!), I’m nursing her back to health and looking for the perfect adopter to help this very deserving girl have a comfortable, joyful retirement chapter. 😍👑

Second, to help Blondie and the 1,000+ dogs we find homes for EVERY YEAR, a generous donor is matching all donations made TODAY. Every $1 you donate instantly becomes $2! 💲💸

If you’d like to make a donation of any size to my fundraising page (truly, EVERY SINGLE DOLLAR HELPS!), that amount will be matched and go directly to helping our dogs find their happy forever homes.

Here is the link to my page and an enormous thank you in advance for helping me, my fosters like Blondie, and the Muddy Paws pack save the lives of more dogs every day: https://give.muddypawsrescue.org/phineas 2026.

Sending lots of love and gratitude to you always! I am so grateful to all of you who support me in my health journey and the dogs in the Muddy Paws pack. We couldn’t heal without you, and healing is the greatest gift we can ever give anyone.

creativity

Day 28: Making Meaning By Helping Dogs

So here we go – the first day of my month of reflection as I count down to my medication switch. One thing I’ve learned on this long cancer journey is that helping others helps me. Even when I feel down and out, and that’s happened many times over these past 5 years, helping others gives me a boost.

My souldog, Phineas, was a great comfort to me during this time so when he passed away in January 2024, I was absolutely gutted. That was the lowest I’ve ever been. A home without him was a terribly sad and lonely place. I tried everything to get through that time – grief counseling, donating, talking to friends, keeping myself busy with work and every activity I could find, writing my graduate school dissertation. I would love to tell you that helped but it barely moved the needle. You know what helped? Fostering dogs through Muddy Paws Rescue. Since November 2024, I’ve had 15 foster dogs and they gave me a place to pour my love for Phinny that was physically tangible. That’s what I needed.

That’s why I’m participating in the Muddy Paws Rescue Pack Challenge where I raise money to help save rescue dogs from now until July 23rd! And I’d personally love your support to help more people find their Phineas!

In addition to fostering with Muddy Paws, I also volunteer at events, review foster applications, do welcome calls for new fosters, and help the Development team raise money. Every dollar we raise goes to helping the dogs in our care. We get ~1,000 dogs adopted EVERY YEAR and this spring we celebrated our 10,000th dog getting adopted.

If you’d like to contribute, the link to my fundraising page is: Give.muddypawsrescue.org/phineas2026

If you’ve been looking for a way to do something good for the world, this is it! Every single dollar helps me save more dogs. I’m so grateful for every single contribution, and so are the dogs.

creativity

28-Day Countdown to Healing

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.

creativity

Outer Space Innovation at the World Cup: Survival of the (Out)Fittest?

adidas Cooling Vest – an Innovation for FIFA WORLD CUP 2026™. Image is free to use from here: http://bit.ly/4p61XLk

If you’ve been following the World Cup matches over the last few weeks, you’ve witnessed some of the most intense athleticism on the planet. To win, teams aren’t just strategizing against their opponents—they’re actively managing nature’s wrath. A brutal summer heatwave has blanketed the host cities, pushing the physical limits of human performance to a dangerous breaking point.

To keep players from overheating, teams turned to outer space engineering. As reported by The Athletic, players are donning specialized cooling vests and silver space jackets during warm-ups and half-time breaks, using materials originally designed to keep astronauts safe in hostile conditions.

It’s a brilliant feat of adaptation. As we watch multi-million-dollar athletes use aerospace technology to perform at the top of their game, it begs the question: will all of us eventually need this kind of adaptation to survive on a warming planet?

The Illusion of the Tech Fix

There’s a dangerous comfort in high-tech climate solutions. When we see space-age cooling gear or air-conditioned stadium hubs, it’s easy to fall into the trap of believing that human ingenuity will always engineer a way out of a crisis. We tell ourselves that as the planet warms, we’ll just adapt our way through it.

But this World Cup is exposing the deep inequality of technological adaptation. We can build specialized, high-conductive cooling gear for elite athletes, but we can’t wrap a space jacket around the construction workers building the stadiums, the transit staff moving the crowds, and the local communities whose power grids are strained to the limit by the surrounding infrastructure. In my own Brooklyn neighborhood, ConEd has to reduce everyone’s voltage to avoid a blackout for several days. If you aren’t a million-dollar-athlete (and I’m certainly not!), then you’re asked to adapt in a way where you give up something that provides comfort. In many parts of the world, air conditioning doesn’t exist at all. What becomes of them when the heatwaves are the summer norm, not an anomaly for a few days?  

When Adaptation Hits a Hard Wall

This is the exact tension at the heart of our ongoing climate choice. Adaptations like cooling vests are vital for immediate safety, but they are a backstop for a privileged few, not a solution. When open-air stadiums face temperatures that FIFA deems unsafe for play, we aren’t looking at a management challenge—we’re looking at a systemic failure that’s much bigger than FIFA.

If we rely entirely on tech patches to shield us from a changing climate, we’re choosing a path of continuous, exhausting defense. Real progress happens when the friction of these extreme events forces us to move past temporary fixes and start investing in systemic mitigation—greening our local grids with renewables, restructuring our public spaces with natural shade from trees and vegetation, and designing infrastructure that works within the planet’s boundaries rather than trying to out-engineer them. We’ll never beat nature in the long game. We can’t burn down (or overheat) our home and expect to be able to live in it. That goes for our built homes as well as the planet we share with every other living being.

The Togetherhood Takeaway

Resilience means recognizing the difference between a temporary shield and long-term safety.

  • Audit Your Local Shields: Think about the adaptations you rely on during a heatwave: your home’s AC, the food and drink you consume, neighborhood cooling centers (our public libraries in New York stayed open despite the 4th of July holiday to give people a cool place to go), the clothing you wear, etc. Are these available and sustainable for your entire community over the next decade, or are they temporary fixes? What will you do if summer temps over 100 degrees become the norm, when heatwaves are simply just how summer goes?
  • Look for the Living Infrastructure, and Advocate for its Expansion: Tech is great, but nature is often a more effective, efficient, and less expensive cooling mechanism. Support local initiatives that plant urban tree canopies, install green roofs, and create public shade structures that cool entire neighborhoods and cities, not just individuals.
  • Advocate for the Whole Team: True community agency means ensuring that climate protections apply to everyone, not just you and your household. When local labor advocates push for mandatory heat-safety standards for outdoor workers, back them up. Survival and comfort shouldn’t require elite status.

We can’t out-engineer a warming planet with silver jackets alone (though they are arguably cool in more ways than one!) Our collective and individual future depends on our willingness to cool the planet we all share.