Expect miracles.
Alb. The weight of this sad time we must obey;
Speak what we feel, not what we ought to say.
The oldest hath borne most: we that are young, 385
Shall never see so much, nor live so long. –King Lear, Act V Scene III
By: Gabriela Yareliz
SUMMER IN THE CITY [Inspired by: New York City]
Despite my autumn fever, yesterday’s 68-degree morning, and leaving the house with a jacket today, it is still officially a tourist-crowded-sidewalk NYC summer. People’s addiction to ice cream does not seem to be waning. I am slightly traumatized from last winter, and I do not want to dig out my leggings or boots quite yet. I guess we can start easing in– wearing jackets and light sweaters with Oxfords.
Summer is often associated with a kind of freedom, even in the working world. People tend to take vacations in the summer, travel and make little changes, like moving or the cutting of hair. The fact that school is starting makes the feeling of freedom *poof* disappear like a balloon filled with water popping in your face and sprinkling you while the rest of water splatters to the ground.
Still, the city is green. Something that won’t last too much longer. The trees are still fully dressed and rustling. The sunshine reminds us that we are humans living on Earth (unlike our dark winters), and the brightness reminds us to live.
Summer carries with it a lot of noise. Winter brings with it an unsettling quiet because no one wants to be out and about, boots crunching on the snow.
Flowers adorn corners of parks and some plants dare to reach up to heights only skyscrapers can boast of. They looks at us down below, smiling at us. Not haughtily, only in an endearing way.
It’s a time to be out at the South Street Seaport District watching old films outside on lawn chairs with cobblestone underneath. Little bulb lights on string blinking down from the Fulton Market area remind us of the stars hidden under fog and disguised in skyscraper glow.
It’s time to smile more, and really take time to appreciate all that will soon condense into cold.
SUMMER IN THE COUNTRY [Inspired by North Central Florida]
It’s stifling hot. The type of heat that doesn’t let you breathe, but that at the same time makes you sure that you are alive (maybe because it makes your blood boil). The heat invigorates you, while draining you. The sweat cleanses you, while soaking you.
It’s summer. The season where you can take an evening to watch orange and purple sunsets and take nights to see the stars. A season that casts a golden light on everything.
The world is painted gold. The fields are carpeted with rebellious flowers that don’t ask for permission to grow. The wind spreads their beauty, so they can decorate the sides of country roads. Little critters are outside, invested in adventures of all kinds. The air is perfumed with curiosity.
Children sit inside, under sun lights and white vents that spew out cool air. Fans hum, and spigots outside drip-drip, keeping rhythm. Trees fight the angry caterpillars who eat up all of their leaves. They stay green and leafy despite the inconsiderate eaters. Squirrels balance themselves on fences; their cheeks bulging with berries.
Thunderstorms prune the trees’ bad branches, and the rain inundates the sandy ground. Many complain of the heat and wait for their season of relief.
Still, people know that when the crisp air comes, they will miss summer’s sultry embrace.
“Pure and undefiled religion speaks for itself. It transforms the characters of all who receive it, improving their usefulness and beautifying all with which it is brought in contact…. A man’s worth is not measured by the position of responsibility that he occupies but by the Christlike spirit that he reveals. When the Saviour abides in the heart the work bears the impress of the divine touch. Self does not appear. Christ is revealed as the One altogether lovely.”– Ellen G. White
[Images reblogged from 500-days-of-autumn.tumblr.com and autumntiming.tumblr.com]
Compiled by: Gabriela Yareliz
Marisa De Los Santos’ books always make me feel warm and fuzzy, comfortable, and they cast a soft glow on your soul. A book of hers is definitely a pick-me-up for the autumn days.
It’s time to dig out my sweaters from the closet bags. (Ironing sweaters is tedious, but it must be done sometimes). It’s also a good time to watch H&M closely for two for one sweater sales.
I bought myself some ramekins (which I can’t pronounce), and I am excited to make more than kale-egg, gluten-free quiches in them. Pumpkins and squash anyone?
It will also be time to do more than juice with apples. Apples are special when they are in season.
One word: Red.
Spend more time outside to escape school and all other evils.
Shine your boots; or at least wipe them down.
Corduroy and flannel–I would trade suits for them any day in a heart beat.
“I’ve always felt an outcast; There is something strange about me. I don’t ever feel at ease in a group of people. I have to fight hard to overcome my fears.” – Marion Cotillard, The Guardian
By: Gabriela Yareliz
One of Manhattan’s loveliest places is tucked away at 487 Hudson St. I have spent many evenings at the Gardens at St. Luke; sometimes they are empty, sometimes they are full of children playing, while the mothers and nannies sit in a circle on the grass surrounded by strollers. The guardians occasionally remind the children to play nice, and then, they continue talking about play dates, cupcakes, school events and motherly topics. I like the place so much, I even stopped by the morning of my birthday. I was alone and serene that morning; only the birds and butterflies made sounds.
The Gardens are hidden away in the West Village; they are so close to the Hudson River that the gate entrance is on Hudson Street. The walk along Hudson Street in the West Village is one of my favorites.
This is how I discovered the Gardens: One day, I was marching up Hudson Street, and I saw a brick wall with a gate. I was on the opposite side of the street, but of course, curiosity got the best of me. I waited to cross, and I entered the gate. It was like walking into the Secret Garden. It was an early spring afternoon (if I dare call it that–it was still cold). I walked through the gate and took a deep breath. The Gardens were solitary. Nice wooden benches were clean and inviting under spring branches. New little green leaves filtered the golden evening light.
When you walk in, you can walk little footpaths in whichever direction you choose. Little paths take you to different Gardens and compartments. There are benches, flowers, hoses, birdbaths, and sometimes, a guitar player in a melodious corner or a reader who is mentally worlds away.
I am always looking for a quiet place to rest my mind. Despite the fact that I pray wherever I go, it’s always nice to find a place that invites you to be still, and above all, a place that displays nature in all of its splendor.
Ellen G. White once wrote, “In the things of nature, marred as they are by the blight of sin, much that is beautiful remains. One omnipotent in power, great in goodness, in mercy, and love, has created the earth, and even in its blighted state it inculcates truths in regard to the skillful Master Artist. In this book of nature opened to us—in the beautiful, scented flowers, with their varied and delicate coloring—God gives to us an unmistakable expression of His love.”
“The heavens declare the glory of God; and the firmament shows his handiwork.” Psalm 19:1
“I thank you God for this most amazing day, for the leaping greenly spirits of trees, and for the blue dream of sky and for everything which is natural, which is infinite, which is yes […] (now the ears of my ears awake and
now the eyes of my eyes are opened)” e. e. cummings
These Gardens have been such a gift to me. In each flower, bird and tree can be found a spiritual lesson, wisdom and hope for what is to come. I cannot wait to see the Gardens as they change when autumn brings its glow and winter, its gray.
When I walk through the Gardens’ gate, I immediately smell dirt, flowers, leaves and life. Joy and peace fill me, while the drip-drip of the birdbath and water collector makes music to compliment its little bathers, the birds. When you walk through the Gardens, just as in life, you walk a path engulfed by magnificent beauty.
From Ellen G. White’s Testimonies for the Church, vol. 3
“Knowledge is not all that we need; we must follow the light. We are not left to choose for ourselves and to obey that which is agreeable to us and to disobey when it best suits our convenience. Obedience is better than sacrifice.” – {3T 116.1}
By: Gabriela Yareliz
Pick up a copy of Latina Magazine, September 2014 issue with Adrienne Bailon on the cover because it’s official: I have been published! I am super excited to have this opportunity to share a bit of my walk and growth as a young Latina professional. It has been a year filled with so many surprises and blessings. It is so awesome to be published by a magazine I grew up reading; a magazine that inspired me and showed me that people who look like me can succeed!
Thank you, Latina Magazine!
#blessedbeyondbelief
There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio,
Than are dreamt of in your philosophy.
– Hamlet (1.5.167-8), Hamlet to Horatio
[Awesome gifs in post from: Boy Meets World Gifs]
By: Gabriela Yareliz
Anyone remember Boy Meets World? In Girl Meets World, Cory and Topanga return as parents. Who didn’t love the hilarious Cory and smart Topanga? Topanga became a New York lawyer, and pretty soon, it seems like she will be facing her childhood self in an emotional time of reflection.
When I heard about this, I thought about what many of us students and young professionals face day to day. The pressure, the money chase, the responsibilities, the numbers–
Many changes are looming in the future for many of us. We are all consumed with applications, expectations, and thoughts of jobs, money and loan payments. When I saw this “Topanga Moment of Reflection”, I thought that it’s time for all of us to reflect and make sure that we are taking steps toward becoming the person we want to be; the person God wants us to be.
School is difficult, and to top that, we are often exposed to the ugliest side of mankind; its violence, its greed; its malice; its deceit; its competition. With so much evil and tragedy, sometimes you really do feel your soul dies a little.
This post is probably really random and terribly written, but my invitation is for each of us, regardless of age, to think of that child we were– the essence of who we are. Sometimes, that person gets lost, suppressed, thrown away–
It’s not about being a child again; it’s about not losing an essential part of yourself. It’s about living a life that you’re proud of; a life that the child-version of yourself would be proud of–and if you are not living that life, as Fitzgerald says, I hope you have the courage and strength to start again.
The child inside of us should never die.
As Topanga once said, “Jedidiah and Chloe say, every time you are not true to yourself, the Earth weeps.” It’s a weird way to put it, but you get the idea.
Don’t lose yourself.
Don’t let them change your or even rearrange you.
GABRIELA YARELIZ 