Mythos & Marginalia

life notes between the lines and along the edges

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Posted on November 9, 2016 by j.g.lewis · Leave a comment

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J.G. Lewis

A writer/photographer living and breathing in the greater Toronto area.

original content and images © j.g. lewis.

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

a daily breath . . .

What Was Then

If we keep on waiting, will
we realize what has passed?
We are never aware of what
we had until time has come
and gone, and what was then
is here and now, and we will
continue waiting for change.
We fail to look, to see how
far we’ve come, fearing we
will miss all that was there.
And still we wait for more.

11/24/2020 j.g.l.

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Mondays are just young Fridays

I’ll begin wearing my new winter coat this week.
We’ve been fortunate in Toronto this year with extended fall weather. This weekend’s snow was a reminder of what is to come.
I’ll be dressed for it.
I took advantage of a pandemic deal and bought this warm wool coat in August.
A handsome coat, I thought it would be great to wear to the office when we all went back to the office. Or it would be suitable to wear to the theatre or symphony, dinner out, or a night on the town.
Unfortunately none of that will happen anytime soon.
Toronto went into a 28-day lockdown effective at midnight.
Restaurants are closed, except for takeout. The theatre and performing arts sector has been shut down for more than 8 months.
Nobody is going out. Nobody is going anywhere.
‘Stay home’ is the overwhelming message.
As I have every day over the past eight months, I’ll continue to go out for a lengthy walk. I’ll pick up morning coffee (the best kind), and then wander the streets for a while.
Mask on, I physically distance.
It’s emotionally isolating.
My new coat will warm my spirits.

11/23/2020 j.g.l.

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Today So Far

I slept in this morning, not on purpose, just because.
I am, pretty much, an early riser. I am also a light sleeper.
Not this morning.
My first night on a new mattress, I woke up refreshed. Relaxed. All of those aches and pains that have been a part of mornings past seem to be gone.
Now, I admit, I just work up and the day has yet to really prove itself, but I feel good.
Right now that’s good enough for me because some mornings (I know) aren’t like that.
Today is, so far anyway.
I hope you slept well, and you too will have a good day.

11/22/2020 j.g.l.

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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 . . .

Four Questions

What isn’t necessary?
What do you really need?
What can you do without?
What else could you
do with all that time?

11/27/2020 j.g.l.

Related
haiku 4 you

I hear those who sing
Melody fills space and time

Voice with a purpose

11/26/2020 j.g.l.

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The Big Test

Monday was good, it usually is, as the week is a little short on the uptake.
Yet the weekend bliss, being what it is, has subsided by Tuesday and all
those things you thought were dead and gone seem to be back. Of course,
then, there is something new.
By Wednesday there are things in your week you never expected you would
have to deal with in your entire life, and they arrived without explanation.
They were still there on Thursday.
You put up a good fight, and so far, nothing has got the best of you. You feel
unsure.
Today is the big test, how will it be?
You made it through yesterday. . . now let’s see how you do with today.

j.g.l.

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Only Wednesday

Wednesday sits naked
and ordinary
waiting

between the bookends of social Saturday
and restive Sunday. The day is
little more

than a cluster of hours or a stop on the
treadmill. Indecisive and
lonely

nobody chooses a Wednesday. Nothing
happens
on a Wednesday

and it’s the same each week.

Sept 11/01, a Tuesday. London Subway bombings: July 7/05, a Tuesday, also July 21/05,
and also a Tuesday. Assassinations: John Lennon on a Monday, Martin Luther King Jr. a
Thursday, and John F. Kennedy a Friday. Kurt Cobain’s body was discovered on a
Wednesday, but he chose his way out three days earlier. Nothing happens on a
Wednesday.

There are fewer concerts mid-week, and opening night is never a Wednesday. They
never open the Olympics on a Wednesday. Nobody gets married on a Wednesday.

Yet I will choose Wednesday, or I will start with a Wednesday. I'll begin with a page, a
place where I can plant my thoughts. I have many thoughts, each week, every day (even
on Wednesday), but I will commit to posting something once a week. There are seven
days to choose from, and I chose Wednesday.

Now I may post something else on some other day, I’m like that (a true Gemini). If I am
moved or if I have time, if the stars align or the moon gives me a nudge, or if something
is really bothering me, I won’t wait for Wednesday. But I will post something each
Wednesday.

Something will happen each Wednesday, every week. Right here. If you want to see, or
wish to be reminded, sign up. There will also be a daily breath (usually 140 characters or
less) and it will not be limited to Wednesday, but will, or should, arrive every day.

Until Wednesday . . .

-j-

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