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 . . .

Mondays are just young Fridays

Very early this morning, I couldn’t help but glance westward to the brilliant full moon hovering above the CN tower and office buildings of downtown Toronto. The lights inside the sky-high structures not nearly as bright as Luna, but nonetheless picturesque.
   It was a beautiful scene capturing the city I live in and the celestial delight that has guided me for as long as I remember.
   And, I without my camera.
   Pre-coffee, I was not awake enough, or wise enough, to reach into my pocket and at least snap a few shots with my mobile device. I didn’t think, at the time, my simple phone would do the Moon any justice. I instead held the scene in my head.
   While there is a certain convenience to the trusty mobile device, I prefer to use my camera where I have a greater selection of focal lengths and can more artistically control the light entering the lens.
   The camera, I feel, gives me the control I need. Even in the darkness.
   It is all about control.
   I have spent a lifetime learning the intricacies and settings of a camera and its lenses, both digitally and in the more traditional film format. A true camera allows me to make photographs and not simply take snapshots. I like to control and compose as I go through this life. My camera allows me to do that, when I have it with me.
   I later searched the digital files of my computer to find one photo or anther of the Full Moon. I have many times captured both the subject and its essence, but I did not this morning.
   I will however remember this morning’s Moon.
   And I will regret not being prepared enough, or aware enough, to capture what was before me. I did not have the control I wanted.

02/26/2026                                                                                   j.g.l.

times change

When do you decide to make a change?
   Are there circumstances that force you to rearrange the way you run your life?
   Health concerns, living arrangements, sudden interests, or new people and possibilities.
   Change is not always organic.
   Sometimes we have to fight with old habits and patterns, while other times change just happens (good or bad). We still need to rethink what is important.
   How do you decide, and where do you begin?
   The answers can be found, only, within.

© 2019 j.g. lewis

02/23/2024

Words intentionally scribbled in an old notebook, a quote from someone or somewhere. that often comes to mind.
   ‘Do what is right, not what is easy.’
   Many people have said it (or variations of such), so attributing the inspirational words to somebody specific is more difficult to understand than the moral itself.
   A powerful thought from someone who probably thinks more than me (and I do a lot). It is not easy, and sometimes my thoughts are not right, but I try to own them.

02/23/2024                                                                                           j.g.l.

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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Too Much Misinformation

Posted on December 9, 2020 by j.g.lewis Leave a comment

I shouldn’t be surprised, not in this era of doubt and disbelief, not at a time where presidents cry “fake news” over even a weather report not favourable for golf.

I am not surprised that this vicious rumour has persisted since I was a child. For years now there has always been that bit of hush-hush, nudge-nudge, whenever his name is mentioned.

Yet, there it was, in black and white, a leaflet stapled to the message board on Queen Street proclaiming Santa Claus is NOT REAL. Of course it caught my eye.

It was a detailed document explaining one of the many legends of Santa Clause I have read in my time. I’ve heard, over the years, of Kris Kringle, of St. Nicholas, and even Sinterklaas. In countries around the world, legends vary in size and stature but the good and gracious generosity of this grand fat man in a red suit is universal..

He, the likeness and the mystery, is part of what makes Christmas a time for children. I think of the memories of this most wonderful time of the year. It’s what makes it real.

I believe in Santa Clause. I have seen Santa Clause, and I have been Santa Claus.
I know about the man, and those reindeer, and those elves (some of them by name). Many have, and still do, doubt his existence and much has been written about the persona and the possibility. . . Yes Virginia, there is a Santa Claus.

I remember, in elementary school, a boy my age, a friend in fact, explaining this fictional or farcical character could not be. He said the tale was not factual; twas not even logical.
“How on earth in such little time could one man provide gifts to all the children everywhere,” he said with such confidence.

Now, my mom had already explained about Santa’s helpers and the range of shopping mall Santas I began to notice more and more, but they weren’t the answer. I knew.

“It’s magic,” was my response then, as it is now.

Of course, I would later learn that my friend was Jewish, or I would later understand what that meant. and I knew Santa wasn’t a chapter in the New Testament. I learned he didn’t believe in Christmas, so how could he believe in Santa?

I knew I did. I still do. I believe, especially this year, that we all need to give the guy a break. I believe we need to believe.

There’s not been a lot to celebrate on a worldwide scale, and it’s still premature to call the COVID-19 vaccine a Christmas miracle (Christmas is not science). This year, we will not gather around big tables with friends and family recipes like we used to do. We will not share the spirit as we have, or how we would like to.

Main Street corners and shopping malls are desolate, some boarded up, and there are no Salvation Army kettles to collect change for those less fortunate. Everything is supposed to be done online, both the shopping and the charitable giving, but it is not the same.

There is a feeling I count on every year about this time. I’m not getting it without the hustle and bustle of seasonal shopping and it’s not because of the physical distancing (or any devote sense of consumerism). I need the mental and emotional stimulation that comes with Christmas, and with Santa Claus. I like to see smiling faces on strangers and children. I like the little holiday spirit I get from a barista with my morning coffee, even the casual happy holiday or seasonal greeting I get from salesclerks, waiters, and receptionists.

I even enjoy growing tired of the overplayed Christmas music (at least the bad stuff) and listen to my favorites year after year, as I will this year.

But it’s not the same.

This year, more than ever, we need a little Santa. We need to believe, again, in the gratitude of what we have, the precious nature of relationships and the connection with friends and the love of family near and afar. Especially this year as we can’t get as close as we’d like, for as long as we’d like, whenever we like.

We know, or should know or hope, the sacrifices we make this year will mean a safer and happier holiday next year. That’s more than a Christmas wish.

So I looked at this sign on Queen Street, not as an insult, as evidence there are people who still need to believe in the magic of Christmas. Maybe, when this is all over, more people will.

I looked at the sign, and did what any father, or any believer, would do; I tore it down.
It was unsettling enough that I had seen it; I wasn’t going to let another child walk by and question the reality of it all. There is already too much misinformation in this world.

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