Bunny

By: Gabriela Yareliz

The unimaginable day came. She is gone. Bunny entered her rest on October 18, 2020. Yet another assault this year has laid upon us.

As a child, I think it’s safe to say I was afraid of animals. I never had good experiences with them. I avoided them and stared at them from afar, but Bunny was different.

Bunny entered our lives at just a couple weeks old. We were going to Walmart to do our weekly shopping, and a family was giving away cute puppies in the parking lot. We came close to smile at the cute tan puppies and their chatty owners. One of the puppies, though, was different. She was a dark chocolate color— and looked just like a lab.

The cheerful owners offered the chocolate puppy for my mom to hold her. We squealed with delight, knowing our time with the cute puppies was going to be over soon, and then, we would be under the Walmart fluorescent lights pushing a rusty cart. My mom held the cute chocolate puppy. Her coat was shiny. “What was her name?” we asked. “Chiquita— like Chiquita banana”. We smiled at the thought that this family that didn’t speak Spanish had named their family dog’s puppy Chiquita, which means small.

Someone else approached my mom to have a turn holding Chiquita. My mom said no. A wave of possession swept over my mom, and she said the dog was ours. I think our jaws were on the floor because none of us could believe our ears— but hey, we were all for it. We nodded. And that was how the most beautiful creature I had ever seen entered our lives.

There are too many stories to tell about her. She would shred her training pad in the early days, and I would find her powdered white from the pad shreds looking innocent, as if she had no idea where the training pad went. She destroyed the screens in the patio (this was just a couple days in, and as I repaired the screen, I kept lecturing her about how my mom was going to give her away for being bad); she claimed an upholstered chair as her own (no matter how many times we took her off of it)— persistence or better said, stubbornness was her thing. That chair became her nap chair. Sometimes, she would sit on it like it was her throne.

Chiquita had many names. She was Chiquita, “Chiqui” and I called her Bunny. The nickname came from watching her chase after critters. She would run in the funniest way that made her look like she was hopping with her floppy ears flying behind her. She was my Bunny.

We went through the bribery school that was dog training school and watched her learn the system of obtaining treats (she would steal socks on purpose to get treats). If I ate Wheaties, she got one for every two I ate. She loved carrots and anything really. Except papaya. But she did eat a papaya tree that was gifted to us.

I had to get a rabies shot because of her, once, in my efforts to save an armadillo that she wanted to make her prisoner in our backyard. But hey, she was Bunny. She once dragged me across the backyard when I was walking her because she suddenly believed it was a good idea to chase a rabbit that was taunting her. She escaped into the cow fields many times. She would dance and roll around in the manure, and rile the cows until they got mad and charged toward her. She would then make her dashing escape from the cow pen. I once chased her down the street in wedge sandals, soffee shorts and hair dye running down my neck and face. Classic moments.

She had moments of sass, moments where you knew she was mad or vengeful and the sweetest moments where she would lay her head on your knee. She always loved a little belly rub. When she was tiny and you rubbed her belly, her little leg would move like it was cycling. She also loved hanging out under the bed until she was too big.

If I was upset, she would just sit next to me. She always was there. One summer, when one of our cousins passed in Puerto Rico and the family traveled, I stayed behind, and she never left my bedside at nights.

She hated thunderstorms. Blasting old French music on the boombox made her calm down. She is family. It won’t be the same without Bunny. The crazy memories live on. She was so so loved, and she loved us more in return.

She is the best thing I ever walked out of a Walmart with and will always be. She was part of our starting over. She was part of a new life, and she brought unquantifiable joy to our lives. She hopped in and left her mark.

She was buried with her favorite things, with the love of her favorite people, in her favorite place. As always, when a loved one passes, they live on in our hearts forever because without them, we would never be the same.

Love you, Bunny.

Eddie Garcia: The Producer

By: Gabriela Yareliz

Via Instagram @producereddie

Today, our Hispanic Heritage feature is Eddie Garcia, or as he is more widely known— Producer Eddie. Producer Eddie is the video producer and one of several radio personalities on the nationally syndicated morning radio show, The Bobby Bones Show (my personal favorite). Mr. Garcia makes up one half of the comedy music band The Raging Idiots with Bobby Bones; he is part of a radio show spinoff podcast called The Sore Losers; he is a husband and father of four (two are foster children); he always wins the radio games; he is a music buff; and he brings us an occasional Spanish word of the day.

Eddie is one of my favorite personalities on the show. He always seems so down-to-earth, and his love for his family and advocacy for being a foster parent always shines through. I have never met him in person, but he is a part of a show that brightens the days of many, and his positivity, joy and family values are something to be celebrated.

On the show, Bobby calls him the “Hispanic who don’t panic.” He is our favorite Mexican.

Eddie Garcia is an orgullo hispano.

Sonia Sotomayor: Our Justice

By: Gabriela Yareliz

Today’s Hispanic Heritage Month feature is Sonia Maria Sotomayor, the first Hispanic woman (Puerto Rican!) to be appointed to the Supreme Court of the United States.

Justice Sotomayor came from humble beginnings in the Bronx, and she honored the sacrifices made by her hard-working mother by taking and making every opportunity that has led her to her current bench.

If you are looking for a great read, pick up her biography, My Beloved World.

“I am an ordinary person who has been blessed with extraordinary opportunities and experiences.” Sonia Sotomayor

Go in Peace

By: Gabriela Yareliz

I think we have all found ourselves in certain types of prison in 2020, and by this I mean a place that confines us, where we feel up against a wall. Maybe our wings feel clipped. Maybe we feel afraid.

I have been reflecting on all the pain people around me are experiencing. A dear family friend passed away, today. It has been a season of so much prayer and weeping, to be honest.

I can’t speak for everyone, but I have felt a little lost this year and not 100% myself.

I was reading Ryan Holiday’s book, The Daily Stoic, today, and a part of the reading said: “No matter what’s happening to your body, no matter what the outside world inflicts on you, your mind can remain philosophical. It’s untouchable— and in a way, so are you.”

My body has been reacting to stress in some weird ways. I am slowly pulling out of a season of digestive issues and some sleepless nights due to stress. It’s weird when one is praying and literally pleading and begging God for peace in the middle of those moments. What drew my attention to the quote I shared is how it says, “No matter what is happening to your body.” Our bodies are so in tune with our minds. And for those battling serious illness, it can almost feel like the body has betrayed you. But then, there is the inner citadel— the fortress within— the mind.

I still feel some stress symptoms on certain occasions. And when I start to feel them, it’s a reminder to take a step back and refocus. I don’t care about my mind remaining “philosophical.” What I want is peace. And I know the latter part of that quote is true— our mind is untouchable.

God promised us peace in the middle of the storm:

“The LORD gives strength to his people; the LORD blesses his people with peace.” Psalm 29:11

Jesus is called the Prince of Peace.

“I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.” John 16:33

Jesus instructed us and revealed things to us so that we would have peace. He tells us to take heart because He has overcome the world.

Peace is part of the fruit of the Spirit in our lives. Galatians 5:22-23

And these are just verses I found by googling God’s promises for peace. What robs us of peace is usually rooted in fear, whether it’s frustration, events out of our control or interactions with others— it may not be fear of that person or the thing itself, but fear of being stuck or trapped or alone or mistaken or fear of loss — I mean the list can go on. But scripture tells us that perfect love drives out fear, and God is love. 1 John 4:18

I keep telling myself that when I feel lack of peace it’s because I need to spend more time in His presence.

The truth is, we all need the reminder that our mind is ours. It’s untouchable. No one else decides who we are or how we feel or how we react to a situation. May we take the time to seek His presence that is love, and be engulfed by His peace.

A quick summary of Philippians 4: “The Lord is near. Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. … And the God of peace will be with you.”

May His peace guard our hearts. That is what I am begging for each and every day. What a relief it is to be washed over by a wave of that peace. I have experienced it, and I am hungrier for it now, more than ever. May you feel the God of peace near you, as He truly is.

Your mind is yours. His peace can be yours. And if we make our minds untouchable to the frivolity of this world, we will be untouchable, too. Go in peace, and be untouchable as you rest in His hands.

Erwin McManus: The Futurist

By: Gabriela Yareliz

Erwin McManus is one of my favorite thought leaders. He is a pastor, philosopher, writer and futurist. I identify so much with how he communicates Jesus and authentic faith living. Born in El Salvador, McManus has overcome so much. Christ found him, and since then, he has dedicated his life to sharing Jesus with others. He started out his ministry in high crime areas and unorthodox locations (the nightclub church), and now he leads Mosaic in Los Angeles. He is the author of some amazing books; some of my favorites include The Last Arrow and The Way of the Warrior.

He continues to change lives. I know he has touched mine, deeply.

Rebecca Aguilar: Journalist President

By: Gabriela Yareliz

Photo via La Opinion

For today’s Hispanic Heritage feature, we are putting the spotlight on Rebecca Aguilar, who recently made history by becoming the first Latina to be president-elect of the National Society of Professional Journalists. She is a seven-time Emmy Award-winning TV reporter out of Dallas. Congratulations, Ms. Aguilar!

Jorge Ramos: Our Walter Cronkite

By: Gabriela Yareliz

Photo from the New Yorker

Our first Hispanic Heritage Month feature is Jorge Ramos. He is journalism ROYALTY. The Mexican journalist became famous and interviewed some of the world’s top leaders while on Univision’s evening news (which I grew up watching). He continues to be a part of important conversations with important people.

He has also been named one of Time Magazine’s ‘Most Influential People.’ Jorge Ramos has become a passionate advocate and voice for the immigrant and Hispanic community in the U.S. He has legend status in my book. He has lost his neutrality over the years, which has been slightly disappointing from a journalism angle, but he always uses his voice to talk about the things that really matter— which I admire.

He is someone who I looked up to very much in my childhood and was an inspiration while I studied journalism.

Hispanic Heritage Month 2020

By: Gabriela Yareliz

It feels like autumn. It’s like 2020 said it was ready and someone flipped the switch. The temperatures have dropped to crisp cool lows. If only someone could flip a switch and make the neighbor above me shut up. It’s like he thinks he is competing in American Idol every minute of the day. I can’t imagine sharing a wall with the little singer.

With autumn’s delicious temperatures come some holidays, and for 2020, mask acne and the elections. 2020 has been a beast of a year. It has flipped over our kayak several times. We have found ourselves underwater, gasping for air and trying to reposition ourselves upright. The rapids of 2020 have been real.

I recently heard that Bad Bunny will be doing a live concert with the NYC Latin music station Uforia. Now, say what you want to say about the Bunny— what caught my attention was that the station announced him as the biggest star in the world, right now. And to be honest, I think they are right. It never ceases to amaze me how we Latinos excel in music. It’s Hispanic Heritage Month, and I typically include a little series of Hispanic people I celebrate. I am going to be featuring some of my people over the next few days.

One thing I value about my culture that I need to adopt more solidly is the joy in the resilience we have. The world can be falling apart and there is no AC or power, but people will turn up the music and dance.

No matter how hard we cry or how dramatic life gets (and boy does it get dramatic), we love with an inextinguishable hope that burns through us, leaving sparks in our veins.

So, if there is anything we should take from this year’s Hispanic Heritage Month, other than the achievements and great contributions of amazing Hispanic people— it’s joy in resilience. Hispanic people— we work hard, we don’t stop, we serve with our hearts, and we believe in one life. We are only going to live this once, so don’t be afraid, and turn up the volume and dance.

I truly believe that it’s not so much music that has been one of our greatest contributions to the world— but collectively, through music, we have given the world joy. And that should be celebrated and recognized. Joy is a true gift that you can carry anywhere and no one (or nothing) can take it away.

Yesterday, I was dancing and having a Carrie Bradshaw moment in my apartment, with wild abandon. I leave you with some of my favorites. TURN. IT. UP.

Happy Hispanic Heritage Month. Choose joy.

Rituals

I am up at 4:34 am, as we wait for the downpours Hurricane Laura is supposed to bring to NYC. There is an occasional drip-drip outside, but nothing else.

I have been thinking a lot about rituals, lately. Sometimes, rituals get a bad rap. They are considered to just be routine or things on a list we need to tick off.

This week, I had my dreaded endometriosis specialist appointment. (I love my doctor, but these appointments still make me so nervous). It has been three years since my body was out of sorts, hormonally imbalanced, and I was feeling not-so-great (understatement of the year— I was feeling the way 2020 is going— let that paint a picture).

I decided to treat my body holistically, with lifestyle change and supplements. When I first started, I was a bit lost. I was barely someone who took a vitamin on a regular basis. I am plant-based (have been since I was 13, but figured this is important to note, as I often get questions), I switched to a lot of clean products (skincare, beauty, self-care), and I started supplementing regularly with Welleco and NAC (two NACs a day has kept the endo away, for me).

And while I won’t sit here and pretend to be an MD (because I am not— but someone should give me an honorary endocrinology degree), I will say that this discipline and prayer has helped me have the endo in remission for years, now. By God’s grace, everything is as it should be, and I am feeling so much better.

As the seasons are to be transitioning soon, I have also been cleaning my house. I do these seasonal purges at home. I didn’t do one between spring and summer because I think I was so disoriented with the whole Corona lockdown, but I have been doing it now, and it has been refreshing. As I mentioned before, I think I skipped out on it last season because I was disoriented, and yet ironically, skipping this ritual made me feel even more disoriented.

Another ritual I have picked up on is that of skincare. This is something I would want to pass on to my child, along with how to be hormonally balanced. I didn’t grow up with a skincare routine, despite all the Seventeen magazines and Teen Peoples I read. I was clueless and just bopping through life. I wore sunscreen only on beach days, basically. I have come to learn that it’s important to have those pockets of time for a good face mask and regular lymphatic drainage.

Lastly, my mind went to the Sabbath. I am a Sabbath observer. Friday has always been a cleaning and preparation day. I remember, as a kid, the house smelling like cleaning product (the smell of Lysol or Pine Sol bring me true joy— not even kidding). My mom would put on music, and we would clean. I am grateful she always presented cleaning as something fun. To this day, it’s therapeutic for me. As I got older, I was oftentimes the first one at the house on a Friday afternoon, and the cleaning would begin. I was always proud of the days when I had the house mostly sparkly clean and a ravioli dinner ready for the family when they arrived.

Friday is still a general cleaning day. Yesterday, I cleaned my floors and took the trash down. I took inventory of some things that I needed to order like bedsheets (literally haven’t bought a pair in the past 3 years, and the fitted sheets are no longer errr fitted).

There are many things about Sabbath that have stayed the same, like preparing before sundown and church. I will say there are things I miss that revolve around family and are harder to do because I live alone.

I miss praying together. I miss doing Bible study with others on Friday night. I miss service projects or going to the hospital to sing and accompany people. I miss the special gathering time to close the Sabbath, where we would sing and pray together. And while rituals may be just rituals, they can also be special markers that encourage us to really connect to something.

When I supplement and move, I connect to myself. When I clean, I am typically praying for others and listening to a good podcast, I connect with God as I am preparing for a time of rest. And then Sabbath, it’s a time to connect to God but also to community and family.

Someday, when I have my own family, I will be able to celebrate Sabbath in a different way than the quiet way in which I do now. While rituals may be a burdensome routine to others, rituals are markers of care and dedication. They are pockets of discipline that can make a life better.

I share this only to say that rituals are a big part of my life. I often think about them and about how I can keep optimizing. Rituals have impacted my health in a positive way and they have a way of making me feel nostalgic. They help bring me into rest.

Rituals— they connect a life; they can mark a life; and they can save a life.

(The rain is falling, and I am gonna see if I can slip back to sleep).