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

I called up a friend on Saturday. 

   I had a question that couldn’t readily be answered by Google, and with my limited knowledge or recollection of the subject matter, I could not satisfy my curiosity.

   It was while I was wondering or trying to figure this all out, that I suddenly had the idea that this certain friend may have an answer, opinion, or perspective I was looking for.

   Now, I hadn’t spoken with this friend for quite some time. She lives in a different city, and while we do keep connected with occasional cards or letters and random comments on Facebook, it has been more than five years since we’ve actually met up in person.

   Still, I felt comfortable enough picking up the phone and making contact.

   I know I surprised her with the call, and her voice was as emphatically cheery as I remembered it to be. I asked the question; we conversed over the intended topic, and I valued her opinion and her recommendations. I expressed my appreciation for her thoughts, and then we went about randomly explaining certain aspects of our lives.

   We spoke of each other’s families, upcoming holiday plans, interests and experiences, relationships, and all the stuff that friends talk about. It was the kind of conversation that seemed to pick up where it left off. We shared, in bits and pieces, what our lives were about in the moment. It is what friends do.

   How one defines a friend — especially in these days where social media uses the term so broadly — is so very subjective. In my phone call Saturday, I realized that his friendship was far more than many others. I am blessed.

   Saturday’s delightful conversation went a lot longer than I imagined it would. It also strengthened a connection that is now more than a decade old. Given that I will soon be moving, and we will soon be in the same city, I am looking forward to experiencing this friendship on a more regular basis.

   A true friend is one you can call up at random, ask questions and have answers provided with clarity and consideration. Friendship recognizes where you are but eliminates the distance.

   Friendship is the type of thing you want more of.

   A friend is more than a name and number in your address book. Friendship allows you to use that number whenever it is needed.

11/25/2024                                                                                                                                            j.g.l.

 

this journey

How do we choose to travel?
What is reliable in the rain?
What is our ultimate destination,
for this time, this journey, or
this day?
We move at the speed of life.
Depending on traffic, others
may chose to follow your path,
but not your direction.

© 2021 j.g. lewis

this season

A little cold, little wet,

a little tired and yet

I am here. Still,

full of wonder.

The morning chill leaves

little to the imagination

and much less

to hope for.

Expected, perhaps, as it

always is, this time, this

season is only what

we ask of it.

11/21/2024                                                                                                                    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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Clearly Spelled Out

Posted on January 4, 2017 by j.g.lewis Leave a comment

I’ve got this fabulous set of coloured pencils, each distinctive barrel displaying an empowering word. From BIRTH to DEATH, all significant emotions and expressions are included. Even without the words the colours are magnificent.

I don’t use coloured pencils a great deal. I use a blue pencil when editing hard copy, and a red one to draw attention to important notations in the margins. Sometimes, or occasionally, I will add a little colour to my journal pages to differentiate words or highlight a quote, but then I will use a random selection from a collection that has accumulated through the years.

But I never use this one specific set of pencils. I do pull them out of the desk drawer and look at them once in a while. Pointy, precise, and virginal; I admire them and then tuck them away. These are special pencils and are to be used only for special occasions.

For four years these pencils have been sitting in the original packaging. Still. Waiting. Idle.

Pencils are not inanimate objects. A pencil has a purpose and is designed to be used; each one is meant to spread colour and brighten up a page. Every pencil is designed to be worn down and then sharpened, and re-sharpened, and used, until it can no longer be.

This particular set of pencils just sits there looking pretty.

I think we all have items like these pencils, things we keep tucked away for a special day. There’s that crisp shirt or blouse hanging in the closet, a watch or piece of jewellery, or the flask of rum or bottle of fragrance we believe is best suited for one of those occasions that does not happen every day.

Everything we own has been designed or manufactured for a reason. To not use something is to not realize its potential; imagined or otherwise. To wait is to waste.

We all hang onto stuff, our possessions, our thoughts, all waiting for the right time. Sometimes that time does not arrive or is postponed or put off, so the stuff remains and so does the question.

What is more special than this day?

Are we not breathing?

Have we all not passed through obstacles or accomplished something worthy of recognition? We’ve made it through to yet another year, are these not days to be celebrated? Is that not significant?

Is each day not special?

Maybe, by using those things we keep stored away, we will make each day a little extraordinary, a little different from the ordinary.

I’m going to take the pencils out of the acrylic case and put them to use. If I get a kick out of reading BALANCE or JOY in big block letters, will I not easier find my PEACE or a little more FREEDOM by writing with a pencil where the intention is clearly spelled out?

Today is the first day of making special happen. I’m going to add a little more colour to my life and appreciate each exceptional stroke that I leave on the page.

I may even colour outside of the lines.

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