“After Praying, Continue to Claim the Promise—After the prayer is made, if the answer is not realized immediately, do not weary of waiting and become unstable. Waver not. Cling to the promise, ‘Faithful is He that calleth you, who also will do it.’ Like the importunate widow, urge your case, being firm in your purpose. Is the object important and of great consequence to you? It certainly is. Then waver not, for your faith may be tried. If the thing you desire is valuable, it is worthy of a strong, earnest effort. You have the promise; watch and pray. Be steadfast and the prayer will be answered; for is it not God who has promised? If it costs you something to obtain it you will prize it the more when obtained. You are plainly told that if you waver you need not think that you shall receive anything of the Lord. A caution is here given not to become weary, but to rest firmly upon the promise. If you ask, He will give you liberally and upbraid not.”—(Testimonies for the Church 2:131.) – {Pr 80.2}
Way to go France! The great republic is opening its doors to Iraqi Christians who are being persecuted. This is a proud moment for the nation. It echoes what Sweden did with Syrian refugees.
“Ask the travelled inhabitant of any nation, in what country on earth would you rather live? Certainly, in my own, where are all my friends, my relations, and the earliest and sweetest affections and recollections of my life. Which would be your second choice? France.”-Thomas Jefferson
Public opinion is a weak tyrant compared with our own private opinion. What a man thinks of himself, that it is which determines, or rather indicates, his fate.— Henry David Thoreau
One of my favorite places to take a stroll, no matter what the season, is through Greenwich Village; truly one of the best places in NYC. I am honored and blessed to be a part of the neighborhood. I am into the old fashion simplicity and tree-lined streets. This neighborhood offers exactly that, complete with a farmer’s market. Let’s just say living here makes you feel like a princess. A princess surrounded by madness, but a princess, nonetheless.
By: Gabriela Yareliz
My mom helped me move into my apartment two years ago (where does the time go?). We were looking for a place to eat after our exhausting day, and we ran into a classy, woman d’un certain age. I remember she was a scarf and lipstick wearing kind soul. She told us where we could find what we were looking for. These are the types of people you run into. Every morning, I see men suited up, leaving their Fifth Ave. apartments and getting into their every-morning taxis. Fathers go to the park and time each other doing pushups while their children climb jungle gyms. Nanny’s walk children to school or summer camp and stop to make their morning coffee and magazine runs at the street kiosks and carts. Then, there are the students of the area. They flock to the parks and take over every bench.
By: Gabriela Yareliz, Perry Street. Who doesn’t want to live on Perry?
It’s a neighborhood where you could easily spot a police chase (the police was in a taxi car chasing down another taxi–I do not lie), but you could also spot a really quiet garden filled with intellectuals talking and reading. The streets remind me of Europe. It’s not hard to get a compliment from people on the street. It’s also more common to hear multiple languages and see small families.
By: Gabriela YarelizBy: Gabriela YarelizBy: Gabriela Yareliz On the corner of Broadway and 11th St.
People shop organic. Yes, this would be the neighborhood where we buy overpriced cilantro. Residents still buy books; and sometimes, they do book swaps on the steps of their brownstones. Residents eat gelato, try to avoid mobs of tourists following a clipboard-holding leader, and ride the ubiquitous Citi Bikes.
By: Gabriela YarelizBy: Gabriela YarelizBy: Gabriela Yareliz [This is my disheveled walk look.]
After you live in The Village, it’s hard to imagine living anywhere else in the city. It envelops you; you feel safe. It spoils you. It charms you. The more you explore it, the more sure you are that it is truly a world all on its own. The rest of Manhattan fades. It’s a world that, despite its madness, paradoxes and simplicity, it begs you not to escape.
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.
Every state has a different vibe and stereotype, right? I haven’t fully discovered New York’s identity. I’ve discovered New York City’s identity, but not the state’s. I need to spend more time outside of the city. But Florida, I know Florida well.
I stood many hours sweating at bus stops on University Ave., driving with loud music and my windows down through country roads (nature’s AC), and lying in green grass, with my backpack as a pillow, in the middle of the University of Florida campus. While many think Floridians are crazy (if you see the criminal cases that come out of the state, you might be on to something) and that we are flip flop wearing old people, well… they aren’t entirely on point. There are plenty of elderly folks who drive golf carts. The older women wear bright flowy tops, their necklines exposing rubbery tan skin speckled with sunspots, and the men with their bright polo shirts with visors and golf equipment. There are plenty of “deed” restricted communities, but there are also a lot more young families and children in Florida than what I have seen in the busy, money-making city neighborhoods. Here in the city, if you happen to see a child, he or she is accompanied by the ever-present nanny.
I took a quiz by the NYTimes where you answer questions on how you would call something or say something, and it tells you where you are from based on your vocabulary. It told me I was from Orlando, Florida, which is the closest big city to where I live. Even the New York Times knows, I am a Florida girl. To take the quiz, click here.
But what is the Florida lifestyle, according to me? I have been trying to define it for myself now that I am living in the city. Here are some conclusions I have come to: I personally do not like flip flops, I prefer Converse or gladiator sandals (that’s right–stereotype shattered). I have realized I am slower than many here in the city, but faster than many in Florida. I adore sunshine and water. I have a thing for boats. I am not afraid of bugs or snakes. I drive. For comfort, I wear jeans and cotton clothes that are not black. I miss wearing my heels because I am too petite to wear flats (as I am forced to do in the city). I like walking barefoot. I like lying on benches (in New York, there are no benches. If you happen to spot one, a homeless person has probably made it his or her home, or you have to share it with 10 other people who won’t talk to you). I like class with some attitude (being real, no pretentious weirdness a la NYC).
When I went home at the beginning of the summer, I was able to spend time with my family. Being with family is my favorite thing to do. We took a drive to Cedar Key on a Friday evening, before Sabbath. It was a lovely. Being there reminded me of everything I miss. My mother gave me an amazing camera for my birthday, and so, I wanted to share my first photos that I took during my Florida experience in May. Because Florida is not just a place; it’s an experience. Dear Florida tourism, if you are hiring–you know who to call. Right here.
I am dead tired. It was one of those days. An oatmeal day. A day when, even though I have rice and food ready to be eaten, I need something soft to warm my stomach and soothe my little soul.
The summer has been mild and strange. The humidity rises to levels making us feel nauseated and sticky. If you want the complete experience, stand on the corner of West Broadway and Canal St. on a hot and humid day. It smells like diapers; enough to make you gag. The lovely smells of New York City. A working summer teaches you a lot. As usual, you tend to learn a lot more about life and how people work.
The world is full of conflict, and all seems to be a bit upside down. People seem to have forgotten human dignity and the concept of peace. But, I don’t want to talk about that. My day is filled with that. The news is filled with that. We need some bright rays to shine through our days filled with faces of anguish and bright flashing screens.
My arms and legs are peeling–still. It’s a phase thing. I am starting to wonder exactly how many layers of skin I will shed before it stops. Awkward tan lines remain. If they are going to be weird, they better last until winter.
Jamba Juice distributer to NYC has run out of kale. First world problems: no kale. Cyclists in TriBeCa ride on the sidewalk (illegal), which means many of us almost get run over, at least twice a day. I saw a woman fight with a cyclist.
I have got autumn fever (more on that in a later post), but for today, I will focus on where we are: summer. Let’s celebrate the interestingness of sunny season (I promise this was in a thesaurus as a synonym for ‘summer’).
1] L’Ex de ma vie (The Ex of my Life): The first movie I am looking forward to in ages.
This is one of the first movies I have been interested in seeing in a while.
A young violinist has been separated from her husband (a charming Italian) for two years, and the orchestra chief proposes to her (except she is married). She decides to find her husband and set up a divorce in the next eight days. Her husband makes a trip for them, so they can have a honeymoon style trip before the divorce goes through. Things don’t proceed the way she had in mind… While divorce is a painful topic, it seems the film takes a terrible reality in the lives of many and adds a sprinkle of humor and a dash of miracle, to give us a love story that is unlike any other. A love story that may inspire some of us, to believe a little more and have a little more faith.
2] Tal’s new single, Marcher au Soleil
3] There is an intriguing place in TriBeCa called “Aire: Ancient Baths“. Looks super interesting. Who knew wellness could be so expensive but fascinating?
4] It’s that time…
We aren’t even done with interning and school, but it’s time for the… JOB SEARCH.
5]
Dear Summer,
Despite your tragedies (world conflicts), your shortcomings (the kale), your dangers (cyclists) and the pressure (job search), keep being good to us, and keep us fabulous. Keep us alive.
(Wink).
One emerged a skillful, confident woman; the other remained a helpless girl.
The question, friends, is–which one are you?
I come from a seemingly long line of independent women, women who did not always follow societal norms.
So those girls in college who gushed about who they wanted to marry when they graduated? Yeah, I didn’t quite get that. I had some things I wanted to accomplish first.
I write a lot about being raised to be an independent woman in this blog. But that doesn’t mean brittle. I love love. I love a man’s man who goes gaga over babies and dogs. I cannot help but smile when I see the couple holding hands over the table at the restaurant. A gent heading to a door with flowers, scrubbed clean and smelling great—well that’s hard to beat.
I welcome all of these things. I just do not chase them.
GABRIELA YARELIZ 