TriBeCa’s Message


On the streets of TriBeCa.
On the streets of TriBeCa


By: Gabriela Yareliz

If there is a concept worse than the idea of hell, my day came from that place. It was one of those: get-scammed, watch-a-father-get-no-bail-and-glance-back-at-his-wife-and-child-before-being-taken-away, get-ice-cream-that-has-no-flavor-and-once-you-accept-its-flavorlessness-you-find-a-hair-in-it, kind of days.

My standards of professionalism are pretty high I’d say, and I often end up annoyed or frustrated at the world when I feel things are going all wrong. Life and work do not work like a well-oiled machine in my sector of the law, and they end up working a lot more like a messed-up transportation system in a third world country.

I’d say improving my reaction to incompetent irresponsible people and situations has been my personal growth challenge this summer, and I’ve failed miserably. Things still affect me so much. Today was bad. Maybe, the worse day I’ve had all summer. At one point I thought my headache was going to lead to passing out; at another point I was angry; and by the end, I just wanted to cry, and I could feel a tightness in my head escaping as tears streamed down my face. Not my brightest moment. I prayed for strength, and I have a Bible verse on a sticky note on my computer screen (which I apparently ignored). My focus was a bit–err-misplaced, and my day was a rollercoaster. Hilariously, I was upset with myself at the way I was handling things. Me against myself.

A depressed SRK seemed appropriate.

Three-fourths through the day, I was walking to Chambers St. through Tribeca, and I saw something on a wall. (See photo above).

“The greatest danger is convincing yourself that you will not survive this.” -Morley

Morley, whoever you are, I needed this today. God speaks to us in so many ways. This is exactly what I needed to hear.

I have never thought of myself as type A, but apparently, whatever I am (type C, maybe?) is killing me. I try really hard to make things be the best I can make them, and when people fall short, I become frustrated, forgetting that I am not perfect. I think it’s been the many past disappointments that make me strive to not be one, but that notion feeds my frustration as well.

Today was my favorite person in the world’s birthday: My mom. She has been one of my greatest inspirations; someone who always prays for me and tries to guide me with her kindness and wisdom. I need to be more like you, mom.  I need to trust God a little more, be less self righteous, and be more easy going, trusting that everything will be okay.

Let’s just say, I have a long way to go. For now, I am going to rest my head, and let the tension drain out. Tomorrow is another day, and I promise I will try to do better.

Published by Gabriela Yareliz

Gabriela is a writer, editor and attorney. She loves the art of storytelling, and she is based in NYC.

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