The answers are far less certain
than even last week, to all those
perennial questions or solutions
you might seek.
What do you believe, or
what do you believe in?
Come Monday, you have fewer
questions than you had last week.
For a while there are less doubts
in what you believe.
Whom do you believe in,
and who believes in you?
11/18/2024 j.g.l.
We want to know what
we don’t know, or hadn’t thought of,
or forgot.
What mattered then,
or what mattered when, shifts over time.
We notice.
Perception is what you don’t see.
Deception is what know.
You see it differently through your aloneness.
The truth behind a lie,
you question how and why.
It made sense.
Anticipation keeps us waiting
for only so long. Will it matter
if you felt it never did?
© 2021 j.g. lewis
Slow down: even with the ideas that come to quicky. Take the time to acknowledge the feelings that arrive, as they arrive.
Write it down. How else will you remember what you were thinking?
Print neatly. You hardly understand the thoughts at the time, why make it more difficult to comprehend weeks or years from now?
Follow your own logic; only you need to truly make sense of what is happening, or all that has happened.
Pay attention to the lessons of the past. Be mindful that not all are worth repeating.
Clarity. Make corrections as you go. Flaws become more difficult to correct the longer you live with them.
11/14/2024 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.
I began the weekend with a list of things I needed to accomplish. There are deadlines involved, a certain order required, and, perhaps, my creativity will be tested.
I woke yesterday morning in dire need of coffee (not unlike most mornings), and feeling a bit on the lazy side. I made a trip to the market, picked up a watermelon and a bundle of fresh garden carrots, and then returned home.
I ironed half a dozen shirts, threw in a load of wash, played a couple of records, organized my desktop, and was then inspired to go for a bike ride. The sun was out, and it seemed like one of those days where you shouldn’t be inside. I placed my journal in my backpack, feeling I may find a bench along the way where I could take time with some daily thoughts
It clouded over midway through the ride, and then I felt the first few drops of what would be a torrential thunderstorm. Fortunately there was a coffee shop nearby, and I waited out the storm, journaling, writing a letter to a friend, and capturing the essence of a poem that will be completed when the spirit moves me.
I enjoyed an afternoon nap, a simple dinner, and a few more albums.
I went to bed at a reasonable time, and slept in this morning (so unlike me).
I’m enjoying morning coffee at my regular Starbucks, and as I write I’m thinking about the list I need to tend to, about all those things that must be done over the next few days.
I didn’t work on any of the tasks yesterday, in fact, I didn’t even think about them.
And, really, my yesterday was filled with nothing, or nothing really important.
Yesterday was just a day. It was a day for me.
Days of nothing are important; they are free of schedules, devoid of tasks or jobs, or (in many ways) are not complicated by thinking and planning.
Days of nothing are days to be cherished because, all too often, days are full of everything.
Today is a different matter.
I’ve still got my list, and deadlines are looming closer, but because I took a day off I am better prepared to tackle that list, and I will.
I have no apprehension, or anxiety, and because of a day of doing nothing I am in a better mindset to do everything I need to do. . . as soon as I finish my coffee.
Enjoy your day, whether you choose to fill it with everything, or nothing at all.
08/18/2019 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.