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.
You question why you wear it, but know that you should.
You never know when you will need it, but you should be sure that you would.
A bicycle helmet; you may never need it, but you will be glad it was there.
I took a tumble on my bike yesterday. The details are sketchy, I don’t remember much about how it happened, but it did. It happened so quickly. Accidents often do.
I was a bloody mess, road rash and cuts, and a gash on the temple that required a trip to the ER. My sunglasses were totaled, and my pride was bruised even more than my elbow, knee or hip.
My helmet saved me from further damage; I can say that with certainty because the helmet itself was damaged during the fall.
If the crash had enough force to crack my helmet in two places, how much more damage would it have done to my head had it not been there?
I hate to even think about it.
Having had my unfair share of broken bones in various sporting injuries over the years, including a cerebral contusion sustained in a skiing accident decades ago (there are still a few days of my life I have no recollection of), I have always been a proponent of the brain bucket.
I’ve always said ‘a cyclist who wears a helmet has a good head on their shoulders.”
Thankful for mine, I still do.
Never question the value of a helmet.
I will go out today and buy a new helmet. I think I’ll purchase the same brand and style as I did a year ago, it having already proved its worth.
Despite the crash, I am looking forward to riding out the remainder of the summer. I’ll probably ride a little slower and with a little more caution and, hopefully, no more injuries.
There are far better ways to spend a Sunday than sitting in an emergency room.
06/29/2020 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.
One reply on “Mondays are just young Fridays”
I am very glad you wore ‘that brain bucket” and it protected you.