Dreamer DNA

“Keepers of private notebooks are a different breed altogether, lonely and resistant rearrangers of things, anxious malcontents, children afflicted apparently at birth with some presentiment of loss.” Joan Didion, Slouching Towards Bethlehem

By: Gabriela Yareliz

I saw this Didion quote, and I know there is truth to it. As a kid, I would write 15 pages a day in my diary. I would plop myself onto the couch or be lying in bed on my stomach swinging my bent legs scribbling down my thoughts and happenings. It was a *thing* for me. I do think I carried a sense of loss with me, even if it was superficial— I left behind a lot of people, places, familiarity— constantly.

The other day, I was remembering all the colleges I wanted to go to as a kid. Every state we lived in, I pinned my hopes on going to that one school (Michigan State, The Ohio State, etc., etc.). That was until I didn’t. When it actually came time to apply to college, I was far from every college I had dreamed of before. It just sort of happened. (By the way, I would never trade my time at the University of Florida for any other school (even an Ivy League). It was the absolute best).

As my birthday approaches this year, I have been thinking a lot about the way those two things sort of have to stay alive in us— the things we dream about and the stuff we allow to unfold as life surprises us.

When I went to law school, I knew something big would happen this year. I planned for it. This is the last year for me for something I had looked forward to since 2011, and now, it’s here. (Thank God). It sort of starts to feel like it’s time to dream up next chapters or at least envision them, while leaving space for awesome serendipity and providence in life.

Endings invite us to dream of other beginnings and transitions. My point is dreaming doesn’t end when we are kids scribbling into notebooks and playing M*A*S*H. Be like that ad with the Emu. Be a dreamer.

Every new season— hell, every new day invites us to dream again. Take it from someone who adjusted her dreams a zillion times in every category— it’s time to dream. Dream and leave space for the surprises.

I’ll be here, scribbling into my notebooks. And I am here scribbling into this post: don’t forget you have dreamer DNA.

Words for the Silence

By: Gabriela Yareliz

Two out of my three trains are on time. I am overcoming my shock. As I do that, I continue to reflect on a passage in scripture that deeply moved me this week.

You know, sometimes, you are in a weird season. You feel surrounded by an environment you could do without. You pray incessantly, but it feels pretty quiet and stagnant. It brings David’s writings into perspective— how despondent he was at times, begging God to help him, feeling the darkness all around.

Today’s words aren’t from David, but from the mother of the man who anointed him king (Hannah, mother of Samuel).

I read her prayer, as I have done many times before, but the ending gripped me:

“He will guard the feet of his faithful ones, but the wicked shall be cut off in darkness, for not by might shall a man prevail. The adversaries of the Lord shall be broken to pieces; against them he will thunder in heaven. The Lord will judge the ends of the earth; he will give strength to his king and exalt the horn of his anointed.”
‭‭1 Samuel‬ ‭2‬:‭9‬-‭10‬ ‭ESV‬‬

I am sharing this in case it encourages you, too. He guards the feet of the faithful. The adversaries of the Lord shall be broken to pieces (some versions say ‘shattered’).

Hannah was someone who very much felt God’s silence in a season of life. But through the perceived silence, God was bringing about something BIG. Because that is what God does. He isn’t hampered or stopped. He is always bringing about His purpose, which is love. The ultimate good. It’s not easy; it’s not by might— but it’s wrought in patience, our quiet working of the soul, and His certain guiding hand.

The Hard Way

By: Gabriela Yareliz

Some people look down on the ones who take the hard road. We live in a time where you can find easy if you want it.

These days, things are so convenient that we as a human race lack intimacy with each other (even in the nonsexual sense) because “real intimacy requires inconvenience” (David Leon). If you want to lose weight, you can follow the steps of celebrities who take a drug and drop all their stubborn weight. If you want longer hair, you can just clip in extensions. If you want a tan, you can spray it on. If you want to eat but don’t want to cook from scratch, you can order in or do a Sandra Lee semi-homemade situation. Kids these days use AI for their homework.

But there is strength and also deep satisfaction in the hard way. When you make a good home-cooked meal; when you get fit through hours of sweat; when you care for your hair and grow it out; a tan that shows hours spent in the sun having fun; an assignment where you poured out your creativity.

The hard way is important, Sahil Bloom writes, “We don’t value what’s easy. We value what we earn.

Because nothing feels better than a hard-earned win. Nothing. The pain. The struggle. The resilience. The grit. And then, the reward. The thrill of knowing that you paid the cost of entry for the thing you wanted to achieve.

Hard things are good for the soul.”

Chaos and Harmony

Words by: Alex Ikkon

“Life itself is the ultimate psychedelic.

No substance. No filter. Just this.

This breath. This moment. This miraculous now.

It’s the most exquisite trip we’ll ever take.

In its raw, unedited form-without enhancements, without escape—

Life is already the highest high, the deepest journey.

It’s art in motion. Chaos and harmony dancing as one.

The good, the bad, the uncertain-all of it-flawlessly woven into a masterpiece beyond comprehension.

And once I began to see it that way…

Once I let go of needing it to be anything other than what it is—

I see the design.

I see the brilliance.

I see God in the details.

This isn’t something happening to you.

It’s unfolding for you.

Because you, whether you remember or not, chose this.

You’re not just along for the ride-you’re co-creating

You are part of this ultimate creation.

And the way to navigate this sacred trip?

Not by resisting.

Not by clinging.

But by surrendering.

By trusting the flow, even when it feels like the current is pulling you under.

Especially then.

Ask yourself not, “Why is this happening?” But instead, “How am I creating this?”

The truth is-this life, your life, is a miracle in motion.

And the beauty you find in it

Will always reflect the beauty you choose to see.

So this morning, here in Madeira, I pause.

Not to chase meaning, but to feel it.

To marvel at the ordinary, made extraordinary simply by presence.

And I just wanted to share that with you—

This quiet knowing.

This wild grace.

This sacred, beautiful ride we’re all on.

I am grateful for each moment and the journey that I am on.”

Necessary People

“Some of you were lessons, some of you were poetry, and all of you were necessary. Either way, you gave me a story to tell. No royalties will be issued. Wishing you all the best (but mostly therapy).” Cara Alwill

By: Gabriela Yareliz

I can hear Fergie’s Big Girls Don’t Cry being blasted by my neighbor. She has the best taste in music. I swear we would be friends.

I think often about the paths that cross in this life. There are the friends, family, acquaintances. (Like, where is that girl who loved fairies and fantasy novels in high school? Or the girl in jr. high who would pick at her eyebrows until they were all gone?) This reflection was amplified as I read Cara Alwill’s latest book.

We reflect on how things started and how things ended. We think about whether we were right about people from the beginning. We wonder if people did their best by us and vice versa.

That saying that says people do the best they can is delusional. It’s something we say to mask reality. I don’t believe that. Some people are really trashy. I have seen people purposefully give zero effort.

For example, yesterday marked the end of an era for Sam Rosen and the NY Rangers. The Rangers won the President’s Trophy last year, and this year, they were one of the worst teams (with the team intact at the beginning of the season— same people). They didn’t do their best. They gave up. (Exception of the fourth line). People do this in life all the time. They settle for mediocrity.

This whole web of stories and lives shapes us. It softens us or hardens us. Sometimes, it’s more of an automated choice, a dangerous seeking of the familiar, and a method of survival. Survival never justifies anything, though.

I feel like we move through life slowly making decisions that either bring us more into alignment or more out of alignment. Alignment with what, you may ask? With our values. Ultimately, it doesn’t matter what you profess. What matters is whether your life matches those ideas. We either do the hard thing or we start desensitizing ourselves to who we want to be and fall short. We are always moving in some direction; we are seldom truly stuck.

In the end, we keep making choices and rubbing elbows with people. Some we want to stay with; others we need to escape. Even the ones we leave behind teach us something about the world or our simple act of leaving builds the person we are. And little by little, our stories unfold. Our characters keep evolving.

We keep writing the pages until we reach the last one.

Ricky

By: Gabriela Yareliz

I typically avoid tourists. Most New Yorkers do. We don’t have time for slow walkers or people who take up the entire walkway with their tour group.

Today, I was walking through an area that attracts a high volume of tourists. Central Park. As I was walking, some food cart was blasting Ricky Martin. Naturally, I turned my head because I love Ricky. I named my TI-83 calculator after him.

Next to the food cart was this tiny little girl. She was dancing with abandon and having a blast in her own little world. I could tell she loves Ricky, too.

I smiled big. I wondered— when was the last time when you and I danced with abandon, just having fun? Maybe, it’s time to blast some Ricky.

A Starbucks Monolgoue

“You have to pay a price for your distinctiveness, and it’s worth it.” Jeff Bezos

By: Gabriela Yareliz

I stopped at Starbucks this morning for a boost of energy; matcha. I felt a lot of desperate energy from the staff.

Businesses— they lose their soul through rapid expansion, technological advances, being sold, having a change of leadership, losing what made them unique to begin with, etc., etc.

My husband and I talk about this all the time. He tells me about what Starbucks used to be like in a more golden era for NYC.

Now, businesses like Starbucks are trying to go back in time. They are whipping out Sharpies, and the barista who was cursing you out under her breath hands you a cup that has “Enjoy!” scribbled on it. You ask her for a straw, and you feel the judgment. Sadly, when it comes to Starbucks, I am invested in its success, and at the same time, I am not sure it can succeed.

I don’t know if everything that is lost can be found.

I think what is missing is authenticity. Before, you would walk in, and you were completely ignored while baristas whispered inside jokes while the blenders ran. They would finish your drink and let it sit on some back counter you couldn’t reach, and you would (patiently) wait 15 minutes until someone gave you the time of day, so you could politely ask (while seething), “Is that mine?” Then, you taste the drink, and it tastes like water or pure milk (not what you ordered). After enough of these experiences, you swear off the morning anger like any rational person would. You don’t step foot in there for a good few months.

And now, after ages, you venture back in and every barista is lined up like a scene from The Sound of Music, giving a coordinated “Good morning!”

It’s giving desperate. I am not sure what it will take to fix this, but we still feel far.

About three months ago, I got a spinach wrap, and they wrote in Sharpie, “Be better than you were yesterday.” I laughed. I almost turned around and told them to do the same.