My Year of Hopefulness - The Life We Receive Without Asking

"Our plans are nothing compared to what the world so willingly gives us." ~ Margaret Wheatley

"Never tell everything at once." ~ Ken Venturi, American former professional golfer

On Saturday evening, I headed across Central Park toward the Metropolitan Museum of Art. As I crossed the park, I passed between the southern border of the Great Lawn and Belvedere Castle. It's one of my favorite little pieces of New York City. There's some sort of happy air that exists in that little triangle; it's impossible to resist smiling there. I always feel romance and unending possibility as I traverse that ground. It was late afternoon so the sun was just streaming over Belvedere, the clover and honeysuckle filled the air with a perfume that I wish could be bottled, and there was a soft breeze. For those few moments, everything felt perfect.

On Friday and Saturday nights the Met is open until 9:00pm so I wanted to take advantage of the extended hours. I checked in on my friends Vermeer and Rodin, stopped by to visit the empires of Northern Mesopotamia, and spent some time among the folk artists of Oceania. It's almost inconceivable how lucky we are to be able to walk among so many priceless pieces of art at a moment's notice.

At the Met I was on a little bit of a mission. I've been working on some children's fiction over the last few weeks. Every day that I sit with my characters, they tell me something new about themselves. In a way, creating characters is like getting to know a new friend. I uncover little pieces about them over time, just by sitting with them and letting them tell me their story. Every day I'm reminded of Julia Cameron's book The Artist's Way, when she says "Art is not about thinking something up. It is the opposite -- getting something down." While I have a general map for the story, the characters themselves are just letting me tag along on their journey. The characters themselves will provide a far richer, more intriguing story than I could ever plan. That's the great joy and magic of writing.

As I was wondering through the Greek and Roman Galleries, the art of Cyprus, and the rooms full of knights in shining armor, a lot of ideas were drifting in and out of my mind. I dutifully wrote them all down - bits of dialogue and thoughts and twists and turns in the plot. After recording them all, I stopped to wonder if they made sense. And then I realized the characters I'm writing about can actually do anything they want. Writing fiction is a little daunting for this very reason - all of a sudden the possibilities are wide-open. When you're just getting something down, there are no more limitations. Writing fiction may present our one and only opportunity for complete and total freedom.

While I went through Central Park and to the Met to accomplish something specific, I found something far greater in both places than I had intended. These experiences reminded me that the world has great plans for us, far greater plans that we have for ourselves. And while not having control may at first seem frightening, in many ways it's as freeing as writing fiction. Unexpected, incredible circumstances, people, places, and opportunities are going to appear in our lives through no effort of our own. All we need to do to receive them is to show up with an open heart, an accepting mind, and the willingness to listen. If we can do this, the magic that is all around us becomes an unlimited and constant presence in our lives.

My Year of Hopefulness - A Real New Yorker

Yesterday I was running errands after work, collecting a few more odds and ends to organize my apartment. I had forgotten that when you go from a place with storage to a place with hardly any storage, you actually have to buy things to put your things in. 2 hours later at the Container Store...

It was hot and sticky and raining on and off. My bags were heavy and I was worn out from a long, tiring week. I was trudging along, past The Plaza, past Central Park South, toward the Time Warner Building, lost in my own personal fog. At the corner, I was waiting for the light to change so I could get down underground to the unbearably hot subway that would get me home with all my things to put my things in. I'm sure my face was a little crinkled. I'm positive I was sighing out loud.

Two guys, clearly visiting NYC, were in a Scooby-Doo style van, hanging out the windows and snapping pictures like mad. I must remember to start carrying my camera everywhere to capture moments like that. These guys were grinning from ear to ear, in awe of what they were seeing, what they were right in the middle of. They made me smile, too. One of them saw me, and asked "are you a real New Yorker?" and then snapped my picture, as if I was a rare species that they needed to capture on film to show their friends back home.

"I am a real New Yorker," I replied. "Cool," he said. And that made me smile even wider. Here I was sighing about how tired and worn out I was, and here are these guys, invigorated by the exact same environment.

I didn't cross the street just yet. I sat down in one of the cafe chairs that sit at the corner of Central Park South and Columbus Circle. I took a big, deep breathe and looked around me. How lucky am I to be a New Yorker, to live in this insane, magical, always evolving place every day? I put down my load o' bags to rest a while, to take in the glory and chaos and be grateful for the opportunity to be here in this moment.

I wish I had asked for the contact info of those Scooby-Doo van guys. I'd like to thank them for helping me fall in love with my city, again. When I picked up my bags to head home, somehow they felt lighter.

The photo above depicts Columbus Circle, New York City and can be found here.

My Year of Hopefulness - A $7 lunch and off-balance sheet assets

I'm working on some new product ideas especially for the Chinese consumer market and for some perspective I turned to my close friend, Allan, who was born and raised in Beijing. With his drive and intricate understanding of the markets, I am eventually handing all of my money over to him to manage, and if I ever need a board member, my first call is to him. Allan never agrees with me right off the bat about anything - he doesn't give me an inch of wiggle room. Allan, in his characteristically curious way, questions me incessantly on detail after detail. And I am deeply grateful for that.

Today, our conversation flipped from Chinese vs. American culture (a favorite topic of ours) to the state of our jobs to future plans and then to social enterprise. While everyone on the planet is gushing about the promise and bright future of social enterprise, Allan is skeptical. Today he forced me to take him through the concept of social entrepreneurship, step by step. The financials, the motivation, the benefits, the short-comings, the operational challenges.

Allan took all this information in and to wrap up, he got to 1 more very simple question and 1 very simple conclusion. Allan's last question: "Christa, are you okay with having a $7 lunch for the rest of your life as opposed to a $70 lunch like those guys on Wall Street?" My answer: "Yes, I'd prefer it that way." Allan's reply: "Good. Then you are a perfect candidate to be a social entrepreneur." Allan's conclusion: "Seems to me that there must be some off-balance sheet assets that must be accounted for." How true that is!

For the rest of the afternoon, I thought about the role of off-balance sheet assets that we must consider in every aspect of our lives; how we spend our time and with whom, our happiness, the amount we laugh everyday, and our sense of purpose are all assets that are tough to value in dollars. And yet, they are critically important - I would argue far more important than our salaries (provided our salaries cover our basic needs). These "other" assets, the ones we can't hold in the palm of our hand, are the stuff that make our lives worthwhile.

Allan and I trekked up to the castle that overlooks the Great Lawn in Central Park. I was grinning from ear to ear and Allan asked me, "What does that view mean to you?" I looked out at the people relaxing, smiling, and enjoying the simultaneously simple and complex act of being alive. A small oasis of hope in a city that is seeing its fair share of challenges. This view is off-balance sheet assets personified. And from that view, their value is very easy to see.

The photo is from Pbase.com/mikebny