All Posts By

Daniel Gabbay

Current Events

Riding The M Train – The Election

Guitarist

Every day, I take the M Train to and from work. When I tread down the stairs underground to get to my terminal, I feel as though I’m stepping into a different world – kind of like a secret, fluorescent-lit valley inhabited by the most eclectic combination of New Yorkers: a realm bustling with dapper businessmen, disheveled teenagers, indie hipsters, mothers clutching their children by the wrists, artists, musicians, and me – somehow fitting into the mix of this all as I find my way through the city.

On some days, I really enjoy taking the subway to work and back, and even find it oddly comforting. I enjoy weaving through the city at what can feel like the speed of light, I enjoy observing the colorful variety of people around me, I enjoy feeling like I’m making some sort of progress in the small scheme of my day, and I enjoy having those twenty minutes during my commute to myself before I face all that awaits me on ground level.

But on other days, the trip isn’t always as pleasant and I don’t enjoy taking the subway at all. Sometimes, it can get very hot and crowded down there as I constantly bump shoulders and get shoved by everyone passing by, as if I’m invisible. Sometimes when I’m on the train, I feel like I have no room to breathe, hunched between all the passengers crammed into every last inch of space in the train. The ride can feel bumpy and jolty as I hold on to the railing to stay stable. And sometimes, I experience delays when the train stays stuck in the same place for what can feel like hours.

This past week was full of those days. My insignificant subway sentiments were overshadowed by a new reality – a truth that’s sinking into the cracks and crevices of the frowns that kept appearing around me on the M Train. America recently experienced an election – and regardless of which political party we identify with, we voted for a candidate. Not only were our voices heard, but our voices also dictated a historic narrative that has left a substantial impact on many people – for those on the subway and beyond.
drummerIn this election, neither candidate was perfect; each of them had room to improve, as all human beings do – myself included. I don’t doubt that both of their visions stemmed from the fundamental goal to improve our country. But more than ever before, two mentalities battled against one another with distinct approaches towards change that couldn’t be more undeniably opposite at their cores: One – a perspective crafted with the values of acceptance, progressiveness, equality, inclusiveness, hope, unity, encouragement, and belief in a brighter tomorrow. The other – a point of view that has objectively proven to thrive off fear, hatred, narrow-mindedness, chauvinism, sexism, racism, homophobia, ignorance, and rejection of any values that differ from those he himself upholds.

Over the course of this past week, the subway was swarming with New Yorkers in distress of this outcome, scattered throughout its terminals in a frenzy of fear. I saw people silently walking with their heads down, discussing the outcome, embracing one another in disbelief, and clinging onto the handles on the train more firmly than usual, with tears collecting at the edges of their eyes. Nevertheless, I also noticed a different, more optimistic side to the subway this week: I saw a short man with dreadlocks heartily banging on a drum hanging around his neck in the terminal, I saw another man sitting on a stool by the train playing a guitar exuberantly as bystanders clapped around him, I saw a woman walking triumphantly with her head high and her eyes blazing forward, raising a big sign with bold black text that read, “One day, we will all be equal,” and I saw the word “LOVE” spray-painted on a wall, dripping down on the tainted-white tiles. Or at least I think it said “love,” – I want to believe it did.

I have no right or place to speak on behalf of our country or even our community, but I can speak for what I saw on the M train this past week – and I can definitely speak for myself.  At times like this, especially now, life can feel like a hot, oppressed, crowded subway ride – as though we’re all passengers grabbing onto the handles above us for some sense of control and stability, encaged in a steel car, shut closed from everything outside of its doors, stuck in its tracks with no glass ceiling in sight to shatter.

love Although the outcome of this election will continue to echo for years to come, I remind myself that this chaos is just temporary. The subway will eventually reach its stop, the car doors will open, and we will exit and climb back up the stairs to fresh air on ground level. And for those of you who believe in this outcome and feel confidently about the future of our country in our new president’s hands, I genuinely hope and pray that you’re right.

In the meantime – regardless of our race, ethnicity, sexual orientation, gender identification, religion, socio-economic status, or political affiliation – we must continue to embrace one another for our uniting differences and speak our minds, regardless of our stance on this election. We must continue to sing and clap, to strum our heartstrings and play the drums to whatever beat we choose. We must continue to leave words like “love” on the walls around us for others to see, and we must hold up signs that stand for equality, conviction, compassion, and faith – because at the end of the day, we must have faith, even when someone tells us otherwise.

And as we leave the station behind us, we’ll be met with light once again, soon enough. The sun will shine so bold and so bright that we’ll all be beautifully blinded by its radiance, to the point that the chilling divides between us that have strengthened even further through this election, will melt into the past – and the M train will become a pleasant place once again for us all.

NYC

 

 

Current Events

Year One of The Daily By Daniel: Looking Back In Retrospect

Daniel Gabbay

For as long as I can remember, I have always had an outspoken opinion and a curious, wandering mind. But, I wasn’t always brave enough to share my thoughts and emotions openly, to allow myself to be vulnerable and raw in the eyes and minds of others.

Exactly one year ago, I took a step in a different direction with a full heart overflowing with excitement and pride – and nerves, to be honest. I took a leap of faith and embarked on a crazy journey as I released my lifestyle blog, The Daily By Daniel, to the public. On this day last year, not only did I set free a vision that had continued to grow and flourish in my mind for years, but I also set free the timid boy that was once too shy to speak up, as I revealed myself to my peers in a new light.

I started my blog as a formal, public diary of sorts – a place to freely reveal my inner thoughts, emotions, and even criticisms to those interested in learning more about me and what I have to say. In the last year, I wrote about lighter topics – like my favorite woven t-shirt, brunch, summer, Mondays, and the rain – as well as deeper, more intimate themes – such as my college graduation, the prospect of aging, the power of apology, and, ever so subtly, love. And through all of those distinct moments that I shared on my blog that have collectively strung together into a more profound narrative, it seems that my “diary” has undergone a metamorphosis – as have I, as have we, my readers.

Thanks to your interest and encouragement, I feel as though The Daily By Daniel has unexpectedly evolved into a forum for discussion, a place where we share our thoughts mutually, and collectively contribute to grander conversations around the landscape of our contemporary culture. You have all given me so much with your feedback and support. But more importantly (and honestly), by embracing this passion project, you have also given me a true sense of belonging and a tenacity to be brave in pursuit of self-expression, unafraid of painting my thoughts with bold, meaningful, unabashed brushstrokes. I am truly humbled by your faith in my voice and your acceptance of my vision, even if you don’t always agree with its content completely. In return, I hope my lens as a writer has also served as a mirror for you – providing you with a space for introspection and self-reflection, where my point of view has shed light upon your own.

So, to my community of readers, critics, dreamers, artists, intellectuals, visionaries, and romantics, I conclude Chapter 1 in the same way I started it, with: Thank You. Thank you for allowing me to continue writing this story and for giving it a home, and for believing in it. I started The Daily By Daniel for me, but I continue it every day for you. Who knows what the future holds, but rest assured, I’ll be sure to write about it.

Yours Truly,

Daniel

 

 

 

 

Lifestyle

Aging, As Told By A 90’s Kid

Born In The 90s

As my t-shirt affirms, “I was born in the 90s” – 1994 to be exact, which means that I am twenty-two years old. While so many qualities about us are subjective based on the impressions we give off, our age is a fixed personal trait that just isn’t up for debate. No matter how hard we try to defy this reality, we can’t change time. The clock can’t be sped up, as “fast-forward” isn’t an option, nor can it be slowed down; the fountain of youth that we pray will drench us forever is bound to drain eventually.

Now, I know you’re probably thinking to yourself, “Who is this kid to tell us about aging? He just broke into his early twenties. What does he know about growing older?” It’s true – I’m fairly new to the world of adulthood. But, living between New York and LA, I’ve firsthand witnessed and experienced the undeniable impact that our age can have on so many aspects of life.

Whether at a job interview for a marketing position or at a bar for a glass of wine, there have been countless occasions where I haven’t been taken seriously simply because I’m the youngest person in the room – where I’ve been looked down upon, questioned, and coddled too, time and time again by potential employers and bartenders alike. But I have reached a point in my life where I have no choice but to participate in the same social contexts as people older than me. And as a result, it seems as though I have to work harder to assert my presence to be acknowledged around the 30+ year olds around me.

On the other side of the spectrum, though, I have become more than used to seeing adults older than me in their 40’s, 50’s, and beyond working tirelessly to come across younger than they truly are. On one side of the coast, we’ve got New York’s resident fashion boys almost pushing 50 who just recently finished gallivanting across the city for Fashion Week, desperately trying to relive their young adult years atop the Standard Hotel at Boom Boom Room. And on the other side of the country in glamorous Los Angeles, we mustn’t forget our “ladies who lunch” who have probably consumed as much tuna tartar at Spago as they have Botox in the creases of their skin. Those attempts to come across younger are merely superficial; underneath the facial filler and vanity, our true ages are still in tact.

Not to be pessimistic – that’s not the kind of person I am at all; but the reason I speak from such a blunt perspective is because I too constantly feel caught in the age-obsessed world we live in that pressures us to conform to ageist standards. In our contemporary culture, we – myself included – often feel like we’re too young or too old, like we never hit the mark just right at the point in our lives that we’re at in comparison to the people around us.

While there’s realistically nothing we can do to truly change our age beneath the surface, I’m not suggesting that we millenials should complacently sit and allow those older than we are to view us as immature; there is nothing wrong with asserting our evolving maturity, even as young adults. And in regards to my more mature, seasoned adults out there, in my eyes, aging is not the same as growing old; it’s all in the way we look at it. What I do think ages adults dramatically is when they aggressively try to defy the progression of time, to turn back the clock to feel younger by parading around like teenagers numb in the face. Perhaps we must try and achieve a balance between these two extremes: a middle ground in which we uphold the timeless nature of our spirits while also accepting the inevitable points in our lives that we’ve reached, where we can praise how far we’ve come through the years and proudly refer to the cracks in our skin as “laughter lines” instead of “wrinkles.”

I admit, I too must remind myself to relish this stage in my life and embrace the reality that I am undeniably younger than many people; I have years and years ahead of me to be taken seriously as an experienced “adult.” After all, I stopped using a fake ID just a little over a year ago. Nevertheless, I’m certainly not a naïve “child” anymore either – a misconception that might prompt others to treat me as their inferior, simply for being younger than they are. I realize, however, that those older than I am do in fact have a leg up on me because of the abundance of experiences, knowledge, and wisdom they have under their belts. Age, therefore, shouldn’t necessarily be assessed by the elasticity of our skin or the crows’ feet beside our eyes. Aging transcends what we see in the mirror and serves as a vivid indicator of all that we’ve accomplished and endured in our lives so far.

Right now, my peers and I are toasting to fresh college degrees and exciting new job opportunities. In about a decade, we’ll probably be celebrating our engagements and marriages. And a few years after that, we may even witness our own children doing the same things we did when we were their age, as we then long to be in their shoes once again – and the cycle continues. Until then, I look up to those older than me who have gone through much more than I have at this point. But truth be told, the adults I choose to look up to are those who embrace their age rather than those who strive to defy or conceal that number.

What I’m trying to convey here is that age is not “just a number,” as the cliché goes – and that’s completely alright. In fact, our age is a very significant number that helps us gage where we honestly fit-in in this world – a number that we shouldn’t challenge or be ashamed of, but that we should respect and be proud of. Regardless of whether or not you were born in the 90s, (with or without a t-shirt to prove it), our age is a definite component of our being, innately characteristic to our identities and our experiences. The solid, unwavering nature of age itself might even urge us to become more in touch with our sense of self, to understand the time and space in which we exist. With that in mind, perhaps our inability to turn back the clock or jump forward in time beholds an authentic beauty in itself. Perhaps this reality, that we have no choice but to live in this moment, makes it all the more sensible to honor where we are in the timeline of our lives. Simply put, maybe a reason we can’t change our age is because we shouldn’t.

Lifestyle

The Bottom of the Mimosa | A Love Letter to Summer

The Bottom of the Mimosa

In theory, the concept of summer is like a bottomless mimosa special. Like the season itself, the cocktail boasts the perfect blend of sweet and savory, sparkling and smooth. With each sip and every cork popped off the bottle, we feel as though our bottomless mimosas will last forever – numbing us into a fantasy of never ending refills that keep on pouring until the end of time, as we’re sent off into a sun-kissed daze of oblivion. Yet, soon enough, the refills end, and the bottom of the glass finally becomes visible. The cocktail special inevitably fizzles to a finish – and, ultimately, so does summer.

In the heat of the moment, we never thought about what’s to follow after the refills: In the coming weeks, the sunny shades of orange of our clinking glasses will soon be replaced by the amber of the leaves that fall from the sky. The flaming sunsets that we gazed at all throughout happy hour will soon transition to fireplaces we cozy near with our porcelain mugs. But until then, we can enjoy our almond skin until it fades back to its natural shade, we can sift through our Polaroids that were once covered in sand, and we can savor those last drops of bittersweet orange juice that linger on our tongues as the season finally reaches its close for the year.

This year, it was the season of many things: it was the summer of blazing beach days and sparkling rooftops, the summer of morning hikes and midnight drives with the top down, the summer of stirring romances and cheap thrills, the summer of fresh discoveries and raw confessions, the summer of ambition, the summer of dance, the summer of love, the summer of adventure, and the summer of memories of a time that we’ll never get back, but that will come again in new shape, form, and flavor – just like we do as the time passes.

As we take our final sips of the season, we finally realize that all good things must come to an end. Whether happy hour, friendships, relationships, or the seasons themselves, some changes and conclusions are inescapable. Yet, at the same time, we must remember that life is cyclical; there will be more good things to come again, to toast and look forward to. Whether a fizzy mimosa on a breezy rooftop or hot cocoa beside a fireplace, there will always be another glass to raise, no matter the beverage.

Of course, summer, you will be missed. But as we prepare to welcome the new season, as we layer up and immerse ourselves in all that is autumn, and as we almost forget how a mimosa, (or a few), should taste, summer will approach us soon enough, once again, in all its infinite, bubbling glory.

 

Le Bain at The Standard, High Line – 848 Washington St, New York, NY 10014

Entertainment

The Air of Adele

Adele Hello

“Hello…it’s me,” she murmured, as she majestically emerged onstage beneath Staples Center’s gleaming silver spotlight. Not that Adele needs any greeting or introduction at all – she can command any room with silence; but her chill-inducing opener at her concert affirmed that the Goddess of Heartbreak was in fact before us, in the flesh.

At first glance, it looked as though Adele was wearing a simple (yet stunning, of course), solid black gown. But as I looked more closely and she continued to glide downstage, the fabric started swaying and catching the spotlight. Suddenly, I discovered that her seemingly classic, solid black dress was in fact uniquely embellished with hundreds of tiny colored sequins that gleamed of different vibrant hues when shone upon.  All we needed to see the dress in its full effect was some light.

Adele Dress

Before Adele’s show, before she crooned her hits in her glimmering gown, I always thought her songs have merely been about the breaking and healing of the heart. Yet, as I became wholeheartedly immersed in her world for those two hours and watched her melodies come alive before me, Adele’s power-ballads no longer spoke of just love lost and found again. Rather, they began to tell a different side of her story, about gradual triumph and reflecting upon life’s inevitable disappointments for the sake of overcoming them with poise and wisdom. Her songs that I initially thought were about romantic gloom took on a brighter, more vibrant being – just like her dress did.

Strangely enough, though, even after this revelation, I still wondered why Adele’s sequined gown was the only outfit she dawned during the entirety of her performance. Why didn’t she have any costume changes like every other artist I’ve seen perform live? Perhaps she did so for the sake of simplicity, or possibly for the convenience…? But I think it’s because that one dress vividly embodies the entirety of her message that she conveys through her music: that we must open our eyes to seek out the specks of shining color amidst the darkness – in her performances, her art, and life in general.

After Adele set fire to the rain that poured down around her, drenching her stage – and our tear ducts, our songstress closed the show with her ultimate anthem, “Rolling In The Deep.” As if the final chorus wasn’t explosive enough, countless pieces of luminous white confetti suddenly flew down from the black ceiling, dancing in the air against multicolored light. I don’t know if it was the immortal child inside me or the hopeless romantic within that felt compelled to hastily pick up the confetti off the ground, but I did. I shoved as many strips of the tiny white paper into my pockets as possible, in hopes of making the now fleeting memory of that night as tangible as I could.

Adele Confetti

When I got home, I put my keys down on my chocolate wooden nightstand and emptied out all the confetti from my pockets. I was about to get ready for bed with her melodies still echoing in my mind, when I looked down and examined the remnants I had saved. What I thought were plain pieces of white confetti were actually tiny, hand-written notes from Miss Adele herself, with uplifting phrases jotted down, like “throw your souls through every open door” and, quite simply, “you are loved.”

So as it seems, the night wasn’t just about Adele or her art, her dress or her confetti, but about the call to action she presents: to keep our eyes open to seek out the pieces of light, color, and hope that inevitably lie within the darkness, that can even fly down from the sky in front of our faces. If we look at life in this way, that which seems stark or empty can become vibrant and abundant; there’s truly so much more than meets the eye.

And as Adele herself ferociously sings, “we could have had it all.” Well, if we look closely enough, maybe we already do. Adele End

Travel

Jump

Bora Bora

Whenever I’ve thought of the beautiful island of Bora Bora, from all the postcards and photos I’ve seen, I’ve instantly imagined waters of vibrant sapphire and bold indigo. Shades of deep violet mix into its ripples, framed by the island’s explosive sunsets – a palette of oranges, yellows, and pinks blended amongst opaque clouds that inhabit the sky like small, floating islands themselves.

When I arrived to Bora Bora on my family vacation this week, I became face to face with the bay and the sky I’ve pictured in my mind for so long. But, even so, I was reluctant to leap off the planked wooden deck out through the air and into the water. As I stood there, getting ready to jump in at the start of our trip, my feet kept motioning forward, but my mind kept holding me back: “Is the water cold? Is it salty? How salty? Will my eyes burn? How deep is it? Are there lots of fish? Will it be wavy?” – and the list of silly questions that held me back for a good, long couple of minutes, goes on.

Finally, I swallowed my reluctance, caught a running start, closed my eyes, and jumped as high as I could into this slice of paradise waiting at my feet. And when I made that splash into the water and soared downward, I felt free – as if all my hesitations, all my inhibitions, and all the doubts I had in my mind prior to my cannonball, washed away into the water, deep down into the postcard that had come alive before me.

Jump

Now, I know that a simple jump into the water on a family vacation doesn’t quite make the cut as a dramatic, momentous, life-changing experience. But for all of you who know me well, you also know that I’m naturally a dramatic person. However, as I reflect on that quick jump and splash, its significance continues to resonate with me, especially at this point of new beginnings and exciting uncertainty in my life.

This specific part of my trip wasn’t about diving or swimming, or even about stunningly picturesque views. It was about taking a small chance, and soaking in the moment that followed. The realist in me can also affirm that the water could have been uncomfortably cold and too salty. But it wasn’t; it was actually warm and not too salty at all, and had just the right amount of motion to it. And more importantly, if I hadn’t chanced it and jumped in, I wouldn’t have known what it would have felt like.

I can confidently speak on behalf of us all that we don’t have to be standing on the edge of a deck in the island of Bora Bora to feel emotions like doubt, reluctance, and hesitation. In one context or another, we all experience these emotions daily. But, no matter how deeply we fear, how still we stand, or how long and timidly we wait, we have the choice to jump. Life – and tropical family vacations, as it seems – are truly about overcoming our hang-ups and the obstacles we create in our minds, to take chances and to see what lies on the other side of our doubts.

So – jump. Close your eyes and leap forward. Because even when you find yourself mid-air, in an open abyss of uncertainty, if you have enough faith in the moment, it can feel like you’re flying.

Lifestyle

Mon · Day

Monday

Some things in life are inevitable, and Monday is one of those things. A day seemingly as bitter as the countless shots of espresso we drink to make it through, “Monday” has become synonymous with endless meetings, tedious tasks, and tiring errands. By this early point in the week already, stress is high and morale is low. Whether because the weekend is officially over, or because the rest of the week dauntingly awaits us, Monday is the day that we have learned to loathe.

In the midst of all that madness that is Monday, we typically end up feeling worn out, anxious, and even broken into pieces. But if we do to Monday what Monday does to us and break Monday itself apart, a glimmer of optimism shines through its cracks.

Break the word “MONDAY” in half, and we are left with “MON” and “DAY.” Based on the meager bit of French I remember from my time studying in Paris, I know that “mon” in French translates to “my” in English. If we keep this in mind and apply this translation to the word’s broken form, “Mon-day” translates to “my day.”

Ironically enough, from this point of view, our least favorite day that seems to consume us, becomes our very own. When we open our eyes and look at the word in fragments from a changed perspective, we are presented with the empowering opportunity to take ownership of our week and seize the day with confidence.

In this case, therefore, we can take note from our translation of “Monday.” Perhaps we too must feel broken in half and even shattered until we can discover the optimism, strength, power, and potential that we innately possess, that lies at our core.

So, friends, Happy Monday. I hope your espresso tastes sweeter than usual, and that today’s tasks don’t wear you down too hard. Because, as it seems, it’s a fresh week and a new day – and no matter where this day takes you, it’s yours.

Lifestyle

Litte Fish – A Graduation Reflection

tasselFour years ago when I enrolled at NYU, people would always reluctantly tell me, “Are you sure you want to go there? NYU is such a big school. You’ll be such a small fish in a big sea…” And to be honest, at the start of my undergraduate career, they were right. I agreed with these people; I felt lost and shy in the overwhelming sea that is New York City – suddenly thrown into the deep-end with no choice but to swim aimlessly until I find my way. Initially, I was just a helpless little freshman whirling my way through my new life, hoping to make it through successfully without being eaten by sharks. And even though I took the plunge and made the move across the country, I was still terrified once I got there.

Now, however, I’ve just graduated proudly from NYU at Yankee Stadium with a bachelor’s degree and a one-way ticket to the real world. I no longer feel like the small, timid fish who just began to grow into his fins four years ago. Yesterday at the ceremony, I looked around me to my classmates, and rather than thousands of little fish, a triumphant sea of vivid violet washed over Yankee Stadium. Graduation caps soared in the air as woven tassels swayed in countless directions, collectively creating what looked like a rushing tide of purple waves, confidently crashing. At that moment, as we all basked in this whirlwind of a celebration, we were no longer students forced to navigate through NYU’s unpredictable waters. We were the helpless “little fish,” no longer. Together we joined, and became the “big sea.”

Yankee Stadium

As the graduating class of 2016, we came together and seized our momentous accomplishment. In doing so, we shed the juvenile scales that marked our roles as the once helpless little fish, just learning how to breathe under water. Four years later, I can speak on behalf of my fellow graduates that we have swam far enough, long enough, and deep enough to not only become acquainted with the rush of the tide, but to become one with it.

As I reflect upon my time at NYU, now as an alumnus, I think about all of the remarkable experiences I have had – the celebrations, the heartbreaks, the discoveries, and the triumphs, and all of the eclectic, inspiring people I have met – from intelligent professors to intimidating bosses, and from genuine friends to eye-opening acquaintances, who all come from a variety of distinct backgrounds and beliefs. Now, I feel as though I see the world through a new lens with multiple dimensions – a point of view I was not exposed to before turning the page to this wondrous, crazy chapter. I have discovered my authentic self with confidence and pride, and as a result, I continuously strive to open my eyes to adopt a more embracing perspective on life.

As a result of all this, I have a response for those people who were afraid for me to dive into the scary deep-end that is New York City, who warned me of the potential dangers of exploring an unfamiliar realm far beyond my comfort zone:

Fear was the best emotion I experienced during my college life – because as it seems, from fear and initial hesitation arises the potential for ultimate courage and growth. But if we don’t move past that initial fear, close our eyes, and dive with faith, we’ll never know what possibilities await us in the new unknown. When becoming acquainted with frighteningly new environments, we face obstacles that make us feel like we just might drown. Yet, if we let go of what we cannot control, ride with the wave, and embrace our circumstances, allowing the wind to guide us and blow in the direction in which it’s meant to, life can unexpectedly lead us to people, places, situations, emotions, thoughts, discoveries, and truths that we never set out to find, but that we are meant to encounter.

Lastly, I’ve learned that no matter where the tide may turn, we must be grateful – grateful for our gains and for our losses, for our triumphs and for our failures, for the lessons learned along the way, and especially for our fears – because without our fears, we would have nothing to conquer.

NYU Graduation

So on that note, thank you: Thank you to all those who feared for me, who warned me, who almost made me reconsider moving to the wonderfully terrifying city of New York four years ago. Because of you, I have come out the other side stronger, more resilient, and more empowered than before. And to those who have supported me and encouraged my move to NYU all along, to vigorously chase after my dreams no matter how farfetched or unlikely they may be – thank you. I am truly humbled by your confidence and faith in me.

Because now, as I cross the threshold into the “real” world – past NYU’s once daunting, now comforting streets, I’d be lying if I said I’m not afraid. Of course I’m afraid. But as I prepare to embark on my next journey in life, I reflect upon the one most valuable lesson I learned in college: if it weren’t for my experience as a little fish, I would have never become the sea.

Current Events

David Yurman & The Daily By Daniel

Haleh Gabbay and Daniel Gabbay

All jewelry – whether a glimmering rose gold bracelet or a radiant diamond necklace – embody beauty, elegance, timelessness, strength, vitality, effervescence, and even comfort. When I think of my mom, Haleh Gabbay, the same unique qualities come to mind. The only difference between my mom and a sparkling piece of jewelry, is that Haleh is truly priceless – as I know is the case with all of the mothers in our lives.

Therefore, I found it so appropriate to celebrate Mother’s Day with the very thing that symbolizes our mothers so perfectly: jewelry. Last week on Friday May 6th, I had the privilege to host an early celebration in honor of this occasion – an event in collaboration between American jeweler, David Yurman, and my lifestyle blog, The Daily By Daniel.

David Yurman was founded by David and Sybil Yurman in New York City in 1942. Not only is the brand still family owned to this day, but members of the Yurman family also design the striking pieces seen in boutiques. In this regard, the brand is not only representative of stunning jewelry, but it embodies the true essence of family legacy and collaboration. Therefore, what better venue than the David Yurman boutique on Rodeo Drive in Beverly Hills to celebrate Mother’s Day – an occasion all about family and unity…and jewelry, if we’re being honest.

At the luncheon, guests had the opportunity to shop, explore the store, and try on all of the brand’s extraordinary pieces. Even more significantly, 10% of the proceeds raised last week benefited the Farhang Foundation – a truly exceptional organization dedicated to celebrating and shedding light upon Iranian art, culture, and history for the benefit of the community at large.

Thus, diamonds may be a girl’s best friend, but it seems that jewelry represents much more than just friendship. At David Yurman, the stunning diamonds, silvers, emeralds and beyond symbolized family, legacy, unity, and most of all, celebration.

Thank you David Yurman for making such a beautiful day possible, thank you to all of the wonderful guests who attended our event, and to all the moms in the world who give us so many reasons to be grateful – and a special thank you to my exceptional mother; you truly are a gem.

Sights

Eye Contact

eyes

The reality of life is that everyone has opinions about one another – things we like about each other, and frankly, things that we don’t. With that, we are constantly being watched – by strangers, peers, friends, colleagues, and even relatives.

Perception constructs a big part of our identities – in the eyes of others, and even in our views of ourselves. Consequently, though, we can get so caught up in this idea of perception and existing as products of external judgments, that we can lose sight of ourselves underneath society’s glare – beneath the imaginary magnifying glass that seemingly hovers over us.

Nevertheless, how we view and process what others see in us, is also significant. When we become aware of what people see in us and discover how we might come across to others, we have a choice:

On one hand, we have the choice to ignore these perceptions – to turn our backs on others’ judgments of us and continue living our lives ignorantly, in our own heads and behind our own eyes. On the other hand, though, we can turn around and acknowledge these external perceptions of us when they are brought to our attention, and evaluate their truth and significance with humility – by stepping behind the eyes of those around us, to see ourselves more clearly through a fresh lens.

Of course, we must realize, unfortunately, that sometimes people’s perceptions of us are false and tainted. We cannot avoid the presence of those around us who, for one twisted reason or another, would rather see us fail than succeed. We inevitably encounter eyes that behold jealousy and resentment towards us – whose negative opinions of us are perhaps projections of their own insecurities. However, in regards to the genuine beings around us, whose eyes see (and judge) from a place of clarity and honesty, we should utilize their perceptions and opinions of us as a source of introspection and a channel for self-improvement.

Therefore, maybe we shouldn’t think of other people’s eyes on us as a scrutinizing magnifying glass. Rather, it’s to our benefit to view others’ eyes on us as a mirror through which we can evaluate ourselves as individuals more clearly. And as a result, by keeping our eyes open to the genuine perceptions of those around us, we can embrace our honorable traits with more pride, improve our flaws with more understanding, and see – each other and ourselves – with more empathy, insight, meaningful depth, and vivid perspective.