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 . . .

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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Charity Is A Personal Thing
Posted on November 28, 2018 by j.g.lewisLeave a comment

We are entering the season of giving and, with that, increased annual charitable appeals.

Wherever we are, in all directions, we can look around our communities and see the obvious needs, in so many forms. Society is best measured in how we care for those who cannot care for themselves, and we respond with our time or money.

It is both admirable and appreciated how we give and to which causes, organizations and issues. A contribution is the match that lights a candle and allows hope to burn and radiate. Enjoy the glow. Feel the warmth. Share the light.

I’m humbled to say I give when I can, consistently. I give selflessly and without expectation. It is a value I treasure; a practice I learned and saw demonstrated by my parents. We were fortunate. I was fortunate to have learned this lesson early in life.

Charity. Empathy. Dignity. Respect.

I’ve taken on causes, supported groups and issues, and have seen the results of my giving. I have appreciated being part of a group whom, many times, I had little in common with except we all saw the worth in giving our time or money. That was my reward; seeing some results.

Charity is a wonderful thing.

I was recently notified of the launch of an annual corporate giving campaign I have belonged to for years. We all know a large workforce can raise a great deal of money, very quickly, through focused application. It is a good thing to give as a group.

But what happens when a campaign begins to seem less about giving and supporting a community, and more about promotion of a corporate entity and the benefits it provides within that community?

The emphasis is less about the good it does, and more about being good for business.

A corporation and its attempts to foster giving, to encourage philanthropy, is to be respected.

Charity is a good thing, but the moment it turns into a “look at me” or “look at us” initiative, the lustre is scratched off the patina. Charity should be felt, acknowledged, and furthered, yet a certain value is lost when an initiative or endeavor becomes boastful.

The expectation of recognition, even gratitude, for a donation negates the true purpose of charity. True charity is anonymous.

Silent charity is self-sustaining. It does not require promotion, endless reminders, or pressure. It is organic; both giver and receiver benefit. Charity is a personal thing.

Personally, I can’t support an appeal where the larger focus is on something less than the act of helping fellow human beings. When a charitable act becomes a number, sum, or price tag, the humanity is removed from the equation.

I don’t expect anything from a donation, other than feeling or knowing my contribution helps further a cause or group I believe in. I will contribute to give in my own silent way, each year contributing a little more than the year before, and I will do it directly. I simply, morally, or comfortably cannot support something that makes the giver a bigger focus than the giving.

I encourage you to look at where your charity flows.

Give. Oh yes, give; consciously; as generously as you are able, and as humanely as possible. Enjoy the spirit of giving, and enjoy it selflessly.

© 2018 j.g. lewis

“I have found that among its other benefits, giving liberates the soul of the giver.”
                                                                                                       -Maya Angelou

The Obscenity Of Silence
Posted on November 21, 2018 by j.g.lewisLeave a comment

What happens to the sleep we didn’t get,
words we did not heed, or tears never allowed
to travel down our cheek?
                          Those weeks, or months,
you refuse to speak of; what happened?
Then.
                         What became
of the people we didn’t need, or like,
or replaced? Have you given any thought to
what you meant to them? Once upon a time
fairy tale or delusion.
Shared.
                        Then, remember
the personalities or prospects,
the ones where you didn’t have the self-respect
to introduce yourself to.
                        Where was your confidence,
                        or willingness to bare your soul?
                Easier, is it not, to confide in a stranger?
Those familiar with your ways,
those who have read a few chapters of your story
may not understand
your reservation.
                                                    Someone back when
                       knew you well, wanted to know more,
                       then gave up.
Or was that you?
                       Emotions enrich our lives,
                       as easily as they can destroy
                       all we stay alive for.
           Is that a reason to hold back?
There was once value in vulnerability.
Now; well, you know.
          If you rephrase the question,
          are the answers still the same?
                       Long past a series of coincidences,
                           the obscenity of silence remains.

© 2018 j.g. lewis

How I See It
Posted on November 14, 2018 by j.g.lewis // 2 Comments

You do not see what I see. We all see everything differently.

We count on our eyes, daily, to navigate our way through this life. We count on our eyes to witness everyday events with friends and family, capture beauty, and see the dangers ahead.

Each of us interprets what we see.

This is highly personal.

You do not see as I do because I have a visual disability. You cannot even imagine how long it has taken me to say that out loud, even as I began to realize, or understand, what I am dealing with.

It is far more than pride.

By admitting I have a disability, I am confessing to a flaw. This is a hard thing to admit to anybody, let alone yourself.

It is highly personal.

When faced with diminished eyesight, at any level, you begin to think about how, and why, you use your eyes. My vision has always been important to me. My first career and educational training was in photography. I worked for many years as a photographer, then a writer, with a mid-size Canadian newspaper. What I saw became what readers of the paper read and looked at daily.

Even now, as a writer, my eyes are what allows me to place ideas, poems, and thoughts on a page. This is important to me.

My eyesight is now limited, in some way. I’m not sure if I can call it mild. At this point I still function well with most daily duties. I do not require a white cane (perhaps the greatest stereotype surrounding a visual disability), I can drive (save night vision, and my choice not to drive at night), and, for the most part, I get along well.

I have been receiving treatment, in the form of monthly injections, and have adjusted the prescription to eyeglasses I’ve worn since age five. Seeing things at a distance, or just the everyday stuff you associate with getting around, has not been substantially altered.

The difficulty I have been having is with my field of vision at close range – particularly when doing certain tasks, or multi-tasking at the computer. This, of course, begins to create problems with employment.

We all know most jobs now require an element of computer literacy and time in front of a monitor. Our lives are now, pretty much, reliant on a screen of one size or the other. We all text, we tap, to keep up, to communicate, to get our news and views, or do our shopping or banking.

I can do all of that, and with some consistency. I, however, have problems when running multiple programs on multiple platforms. This is a daily occurrence at work, and this goes past the eyestrain we all experience when you spend too much time in front of a screen (we probably all do).

My eyes do not react quickly, not as they once did, and this is not about age. This is more than a period of adjustment for me.

The greatest difficulty I encounter is that my disability is invisible.

Nobody sees how I see. Nobody sees that I have, or could have, potential problems.

Instead, I become the problem when I tell them I have a disability. I shouldn’t need to explain my impairment to the degree they are asking, and still they ask; or they ignore; or they doubt.

There is a stigma attached to the word disability. Many people believe disability means difficulty. I know this personally.

I continue to have difficulties with daily work required of me, even after months of adjustments and consultations, and appointments with medical professionals. Some of the measures have worked to a degree, yet some of the difficulties have not been about me, but rather the faulty equipment I have been working with. I question if the acuity of my vision will be further damaged by prolonged exposure.

This remains a contentious issue, obviously, because it has not been corrected. I, still, routinely experience eye strain, blurred vision and headaches like I have never encountered.

It hurts, yes.

What hurts even more is the lack of understanding, even ignorance, and attitude towards the disability I am facing.

We don’t see things the same. Some people don’t even have the foresight, or sensitivity, to look beyond stigma and stereotypes.

I’m choosing to look further ahead.

© 2018 j.g. lewis