It is a thought-provoking question, and one often asked of others (and ourselves). What would you do if you won a million dollars? Or more?

It’s a question asked each week as I buy a lottery ticket. Actually I purchase several lottery tickets as part of little group at the office. Every week we pony up and buy a number of tickets for Friday’s big jackpot. We each chip in the equivalent of a half a ticket. It doesn’t seem like a lot of cash, but together it is more. It’s like anything else you do as a group; it has a greater impact (at least we hope).

As everybody puts their money on the table, there is always a wishful smile, and each of us utters one of those hopeful phrases like ‘maybe this time’, ‘cross your fingers’, ‘good luck to us, and of course the big ‘what if?’

We all know the chances are slim. The odds of winning a lottery are stacked against you.
Canadian statistics indicate the odds of winning are about one in 14 million. The odds of winning at least $15 million in the particular lottery we play are one in 28,633,528. And the chances decrease when the number of tickets sold increases. In the United States, where this week’s Powerball jackpot is an estimated $1.5 billion, the odds are one in 292 million. It’s not only astounding; it is somewhat humiliating to even think you, as an individual or small group, have any chance at all.

Technically, or realistically, the odds of us winning this week’s $50-million jackpot are unrealistically high — well past the odds of being killed by lightening or dying of flesh-eating disease — at more than one in 86,000,000.

That’s a lot of zeros, a whole lot of unlikely.

Still we try. It’s only three bucks, the price of a good latte or shot of mediocre whiskey. It’s worth that to us, individually and as a group, because pooling a few of our modest shekels, utilizing our communal power of positive thinking, gives us a chance to dream, albeit remotely, on the personal impact of a life-altering amount of money.

Somebody has to win all that cash, and maybe the stars will align just enough to let it be us. We’ve won a driblet or two along the way, some free tickets, and those $2, $5 or $10 prizes that come with having a few of the lucky numbers, but those winnings are ploughed back into tickets on the next week’s draw. We do it proudly, or with heightened optimism, like the prize money is somehow blessed. It does, incrementally, increase our chances, so even at those odds there is more hope.

Hope seems hard to come by, at times, in this uncertain economy. If a few bucks is going to buy me a little hope for the week, I’ll go without something like a muffin or magazine in favor of gaining something else. Even if it is just a little more hope.

After all, there is no point in hoping if you don’t buy into it. Like the lottery advertising says: You can’t win if you don’t play.

Do you ever think about the things you do everyday? Those things you don’t think about, you know, you just do them. Those things.

The eating, sleeping, the way you wash your face each night, the direction and path you follow when you shave, how you tie your shoes, or which leg of the pants you put on first. The method of brewing your coffee, or how you take tea, that glass of wine at just about nine, the manner in which you butter your toast. The route you drive to work, or the fashion in which you iron your shirt; there are certain things you do because you’ve always done them that way. It becomes routine.

We are all creatures of habit. The things we do, and the way we do them, are how we function; it is our way of making it through the day. Habits are the things we, unconsciously, live our lives around. What you do every day influences how you do each day.

I have many habits (we all do); some are good, and others, perhaps, not so much. Still these habits become ingrained in the psyche. These behaviors, at one time, were learned. Now they are just lived. Some of the habits even form our personality. People know us, or know how we are, because of the things we constantly and continually do.

Whether or not we realize it, we are continually picking and choosing habits as we continue on this journey called life. People we encounter, those who grow to be more than a passing occurrence, will often cause us to rethink or adapt our patterns and protocol as we adjust. A change of workplaces, or move to a new city, the loss of a family member, or distance from others will find us recalibrating our existence. Along the way we pick up, or drop, habits. Some people are habit-forming, maybe even yourself.

Habits are formed easily — many times we don’t even realize it — and can take as few as seven days to become part of our process. The longer you do them, the more they become habitual. Studies have shown it takes an average of 66 days for a practice to firmly take hold. It’s all about conditioning, the brain transforming actions and behaviors, and the sequence of movements required, into habits. In little time we undertake the tasks without even thinking.

Still we try to think, or we try to adapt habits that may make our lives easier. We look at others and try to take on what we assume to be habits that will make our lives better. Who hasn’t read and tried to adapt The Seven Habits of Highly Effective People (or any of those popular self-help books) into their lifestyle at one time or another? Who is still trying?

We think more about adopting new habits this time of the year. We make resolutions to exercise more, eat less, or become bolder, or stronger. Early in this new year, we are all trying to foster new approaches, add new dimensions to our lives, or trying to rid, or escape from patterns or people that have not served us well. It’s a part of our evolution to try and change, always for the better. Ridding yourself of an old habit can be harder than adapting a new one, but still we try.

If, for no other reason, the adaptation of a new approach or undertaking is a way of adding excitement to, or breaking up the monotony of, our lives. Trying something different doesn’t necessarily mean trying something new. You might choose to write in your journal at a different time, or move your yoga class to another time of day. You might even try a new yoga style or studio. Perhaps you’ll rearrange the furniture and move the reading chair a little closer to the window. Maybe it’s eliminating that one thing from your diet that has been giving you grief.

Trying something different, and shaking things up a little, might just be the right habit to get into. It may only take seven days, but it might also last a lifetime. If nothing else, it is a way to break up your routine and, by now, we should all know the difference between a routine and a rut.

“The secret of change is to focus not on fighting the old, but on building the new.”
                                                                                                                                – Socrates

I’ve been writing on this website, posting something every damn day, for a year now.
It has become a habit. Thank you for taking the time to read what you can, when you can.

                                                                                                                                                            -j-

Of course there is fashion, and its necessary plight,
but how will it serve you on a blustery winter’s night?
As the weather now turns to what it truly should,
in the season that it is, and all is not good.
The only thing you can do, is dress for the weather,
and fashion is not enough to hold it all together.

A warm coat is a given, a soft scarf and gloves,
practicality is required, despite the trends that you love.
For style has no purpose in the chill that you meet
and what really counts is what you wear on your feet.
Shoes now, in this winter, are for the inside,
dig out your boots and wear them with pride.

Footwear with a soul, right down to the last,
make streets almost bearable, as it has in the past.
Waterproof and wonderful, and sometimes quite high,
boots keep spirits warm and your woolen socks dry.
Through an onslaught of snow, and sleet, and freezing rain
get a good grip on the ice, again and again.

Fine leather, common rubber, or high-tech synthetic,
winter boots have a purpose, and it’s hardly pathetic.
Tie them up tight; give me tough tabs to tug,
and sturdy laces double-knotted to make them feel snug.
Zippers, however, are an idea you can forget;
they are for old men and dandies, and I’m neither, not yet.

© 2015 j.g. lewis

 

We will soon leave this day, the shortest of the year, and surrender to the darkness. Knowing that each day forward we will experience more light, this is the optimum time to sit and find the stillness that comes with the night.

Embrace the darkness and set your bearings, check your needs, your wants, and desires; we all have them, yet too often the pace of everyday life denies us opportunities. Or we deny ourselves. Today, as we honour the winter solstice, find a moment to find your purpose, even in the midst of whatever conflict or confusion you may find yourself in.

Don’t be afraid of shutting your door to allow silence. You know when you need isolation to quell your thoughts and feelings. Just remember to open the door once in a while to take note of what’s going, or to let somebody in. Keeping a door shut is to disallow a view of the true you.

Communicate mindfully, speak or write your words with purpose and intention. Say what you have to say, and believe it to be the truth. Know who you are, or try to understand why you are the way you are. It is by fostering a deeper understanding of your self that you will develop greater compassion for others; and there are many people around you. Be conscious of your place on the planet while accommodating and being respectful of those who share this beautiful space. There are millions of us residing on this earth, and while our time is temporary, our words and actions are permanent.

Listen to others, especially when the words seem genuine or heartfelt. Sometimes communicating is difficult, particularly when emotions are involved. It takes a lot to open up and share certain thoughts with others; remember this as you listen, remember this as you speak.

We are all dealing with issues and events, decisions and disruptions on this ever-changing place. The times change; the world changes, and you may change, just as those you have come to know are certain to evolve. Remain aware of those who rely on you to keep the balance in this fragile world. Strive for consistency and, above all, be yourself.

Remember the value of kindness, and forgiveness, and acceptance. All of us maintain core beliefs, and they differ from person to person, but our true measure as humans is how we accept the opinions and ideals held by our fellow beings.

Take time to celebrate the achievements, big or small, of others. Everybody is out there trying, or managing, and sometimes even the slightest acknowledgement of another person’s progress can make a difference. Don’t forget to acknowledge your own advancements as well. Your strides forward may not be recognized by anybody else, but that should not stop you from celebrating each step.

These are times when the vividness of our world is overwhelming. The colors are bright, the volume and velocity of information is thick and fast, the truth is pure and distracting, and the depth of our emotions is humbling as we endure the transience from darkness to light. On this, the longest night of the year, dawn will take its time arriving, allowing us a additional time to contemplate who we are, what we want, and what we can do to make this a better place.
© 2015 j.g. lewis

 

December rain sneaks into a sleep that may
or might not have been. Gentle, with enough of a breath
to be noticed, yet crafty enough to remain unknown.
Window open slightly, the world from
the other side of the curtains
seeps into your space. If sleep is sleep, or has it been?
Wide-eyed now, hands reaching upwards, grasping at clouds
and the residue that comes with the season. Emotions,
struggling with premonitions of silence, you attempt
to fashion thoughts into dreams
of what you want or where you’ve seen
or what you wish, or what might have been.
It’s not bright, not this time of day. There can’t be a moon,
not one you can see anyway.
Clouds and thoughts, and your restless ways
fighting the fever for hours and for days.
You might seem so strong and still, right now, who can say.
Lucent thought, lenient waves, comfort you enough to stay
tangled in the life you knew
in this sleep, just not all the way through.
Who you are, or what you want
the raindrops fall, the memories taunt.

Night is only a time for precious remembrances. No one can hear
what you think, perhaps no one can know. Not even you.
A life imagined. You can’t turn it off, or
turn it down, or see your way to shut out the view.
The only one is you. Trying to speak the words
you need to feel, you come up silent against
the rain’s steady peel. It’s takes over, it always does.
December rain. It’s not the same. The chill
cannot be the temperature, you are wrapped in the blankets,
pillows pushed aside in a heap, as they are when you sleep.
A rest that is not now, for if it were 
would you hear your heartbeat, or remember
all that you dream? Or is it ever as it seems.
The steady rhythm never forgets, patterns of the past
come back slowly. It’s wet, its cold, the memory is old
but it is right there. Remember.
Of course you do, of course you have,
you cannot spend all those waking hours in
wonder, and not have it come rushing back.
When you’re ready for mercy,
December rain seems to know.
It crashes against the silence and the mystery it holds.
© 2015 j.g. lewis