Mythos & Marginalia

life notes; flaws and all

j.g. lewis

original content and images ©j.g. lewis

a daily breath...

A thought du jour, my daily breath includes collected and conceived observations, questions of life, fortune cookie philosophies, reminders, messages of peace and simplicity, unsolicited advice, inspirations, quotes and words that got me thinking. They may get you thinking too . . .

cloud songs

    Kismet, naturally or unexpectedly,
holds sway on this or any other day.
       If we choose to notice.
       If we permit ourselves to linger
a moment or three in a transitive state 
between elements of darkness and bright, 
           morning quells emotions and
   disruptive thoughts we once embraced.

03/26/2024                                                                                     j.g.l.

Mondays are just young Fridays

Dented, bruised, scuffed up and circumstantial, the imperfections are obvious.
   It goes past superficial.
   Seeking more than a cover-up, healing is necessary.
   Hope is less than present but needed, so I try to do what I need to do. Each attempt to repair the damage that is done — the day-in-day out flaws that have become ingrained in my psyche — is another step.
   It takes effort. It takes encouragement, and it takes understanding even if I can’t completely comprehend the history that led up to the marks on the façade.
   I need to do the work.
   At times trying is the best I can do when I know I want to do better.

03/25/2024                                                                                                  j.g.l.

the weather still

‘When’ is a question greater than ‘why’.
   Important it is to know ‘when’ something will happen, rather than ‘what’ or ‘where’, because ‘when’ always involves a wait (that’s ‘when’ the ‘why’ kicks in).
   Our patience is tested.
   ‘When will we get there’ or ‘when is it time’? Both questions of our youth, at least, questions of mine.
   Spring has arrived, but ‘when’ will it come? The weather still indicates winter is hardly done.
   How can we wait, or ‘why’ is it we must? You might only find the answers ‘when’ you are ready to trust.

© 2022 j.g. lewis

I'm like a pencil;
sometimes sharp,
most days
well-rounded,
other times
dull or
occasionally
broken.
Still I write.

j.g. lewis
is a writer/photographer in Toronto.

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Mondays are just young Fridays

Posted on December 19, 2016 by j.g.lewis // 1 Comment

You never know when the spirit of
the season will arrive.
  It could be while strolling through
the mall as you participate in the
commercialized craze Christmas has
become, or it may turn up in a card
from a long-time friend you’ve lost
track of over the years. You may hear
a song that triggers memory.
  It’s highly personal, and varies with
the way each of us celebrate.
  The spirit rushed through me Saturday
night, in a church, during a wonderful
choral performance. Now, barring the
occasional funeral, I haven’t been to
church much lately. There has not been
the calling, and I may well have lost my
religion, but certainly not my faith.
  I hadn’t intended on going to the
performance, but a ticket was available,
and somehow it seemed like the right
thing to do. I love music (pretty much
any type) and the reputation of this
choir was sound.
  We were welcomed into the church
with a glorious prelude by Bach, the
pipes of a beautiful organ resonating
throughout the environment. The
church was full, all ages, and we were
fortunate to find a good seat on the
cushioned pews. Immediately it brought
back childhood memories.
  I used to enjoy Sunday morning services.
I always enjoyed listening to my Mom
sing; she wasn’t in the choir, but would
have been if three active children hadn’t
taken up all her spare time.
  The evening was full of memories, of
my mother, of my former minister (and
later school guidance counsellor) who
always had the right words for a teenaged
boy who could occasionally find a little
too much trouble.
  I also thought deeply of a young man,
my friend, who passed away under
horrible circumstances. Isn’t any
circumstance horrible when an
18-year-old is involved?
  Feelings, many hidden for the longest
time, began pouring out of me. My eyes
and my head filled with a complete range
of emotions. I was both joyful and
saddened. I’m not sure if the music was
doing it for me, or the setting, but I was
overwhelmed with the spirit.
  I even stood up and sang with everybody
else when the time was right, my seldom
used, but once-trained, voice was strong,
powerful and on-key. I was caught up in
the moment.
  There is something about organ music
and a wonderful community of voices
that can stir up some amazing memories,
and the spirit of the season.
  I found my spirit Saturday night. I hope
you find yours among the music and memories in
the days to come.
                                                             j.g.l.

 

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