Photography captures life,
flaws and all, a fraction of
a second of pure honesty.
No other art form has the
same efficiency.
© 2015 j.g. lewis
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photography
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Few and Fewer Options
It is not the first time I have seen him ( or others like him) pressed into a cold corner in the bank’s vestibule, seeking some sort of shelter from the rain.
It’s early, and I have just left the eternal comfort of my cozy bed and am walking the 1,200 or so steps to a familiar coffee shop with a sturdy seat and hot, overpriced coffee. It is a luxury I can afford: I’ve got a handful of change or fresh bills in my wallet that allow me a bit of time with myself, my thoughts, and my journal.
Despite my personal issues, concerns, and ever-evolving difficulties, I’ve got it pretty good. I have a place to call home, a purpose, and what I would call a meaningful life.
Others are not as fortunate. I am keenly aware of the imbalance.
This morning’s display of a fellow human being splayed out on a convenient concrete floor is more than a subtle reminder that there are people suffering daily in this city and country.
It is a difficult world.
In my charitable ways, I make monthly donations to a local shelter. I occasionally, have spare pocket change for some of the many panhandlers who dot my landscape. It is not enough, obviously, but I feel I do what I can.
I could do more.
We all could do more (or most of us).
The problems here are not unique to Toronto.
We are in the midst of a mayoralty by-election in this city, the fourth largest in North America. There is a hole in the budget large enough to slip a lesser-sized city into. There are a lot of candidates listing a lot of solutions to what they see as top-end concerns. In neatly-packaged sound bites, they speak in general terms of what they would do to make this a better place to live, but so many politicians are short on specifics.
They talk about “affordable housing” and a need to address the over-priced, undernourished economy. The verbiage they offer is only noise.
When politicians speak of “affordable housing” they are talking about $250,000 condominiums in a city where the market average is $726,664.
They are talking above the heads, and budgets, of those who may never be able to afford their own home and can’t afford the historically high rents.
Clearly and consistently the politicians fail to address social housing, now more than a necessity as city shelter spaces are above capacity. Those turned away are forced to camp out in parks or find a corner by some bank machine to try and get a little shut eye.
There are few and fewer options in this city and even less of a response or the political will. Toronto is not facing a housing crisis as much as we are smack dab in the middle of a humanitarian crisis.
We simply are not, or cannot, take care of each other
Or we don’t even try.©2023 j.g. lewis
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each of us
If you tell me your name
you tell me a history,
abbreviated yes, but one
of decisions, dates and
moments of significance
I know nothing about.
I too leave a shadow.
My fears may be different
or diluted; this life treats us in ways
nobody else would imagine,
or understand.
Each of us
will have questions.
We will always have questions.
It is human to want to know and learn,
and listen.
If you tell me your name
I will tell you mine.
Then we will be equal
and available to continue
the conversation.©2020 j.g.lewis
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Physiological Reality
Yesterday, the words of the illuminated advertising panel on a bus shelter captured my attention half a block away: “Feels like he can’t keep up with the demand.”
I’m not one to be easily swayed by advertising slogans or superlatives, but this message, even from a distance, hit home.
It is about feelings.
The ‘he’ could be ‘me’
I’m having a difficult time right now; actually, I have been for a while. I have ups and downs. You might call it depression, but I tend to use the word “glum”, as I’m not always in a morose state. But when it hits, it hurts.
I saw the advertising as I was walking to a scheduled medical appointment. I’ve had various appointments more frequently lately, dealing with a physiological reality that has presented difficulties in my workplace. The symptoms have spilled over into my personal life.
I have a visual disability.
The impairment is something I have learned (or am continually learning) to deal with or work with (or live with). I still don’t think it is severe, as many disabilities are, but that might just be the attitude that allows me a greater freedom to do, and try to do, the things I enjoy doing.
Yet, I am enjoying things less and less.
Right now, I am having difficulties keeping up with the demand. My work is suffering and my outside interests are suffering along with it.
I do not write, right now, in my usual prolific state. Keeping up with daily contributions to this website is, at times, challenging. My love of writing, and my need to write, keeps me going because it is something I simply do. I am finding it hard to express myself. My mantra of “write every damn day” somehow keeps me going, so I do.
But I know I could do more. I know I could push myself a little further, or a little deeper. Yes, it is a demand I make of myself, but I’m feeling I can’t keep up.
As I have stated, I live with the physiological condition. A few months back I began to feel challenged mentally.
I started seeing a therapist weekly. I’ve also had further consultations with other healthcare professionals in an attempt to get my mental health back to where I feel it should be; in fact, I know it should be.
And I recognize it will take more work.
Therapy has been both a challenge and a blessing. I am looking at things differently right now. I’m becoming more of an advocate for myself.
Self-care is taking on a greater meaning.
Though, at times, I still doubt.
It has been a tough couple of years for all of us. I think the pandemic period of our lives taught us about resiliency. We need our coping skills.
We need to learn more about coping. Above all else, it is important to learn that there are people out there who can help. The toughest part is asking. That, itself, takes strength.
When you think of it (and I have a lot) it takes a lot less strength to ask for help than it does to deal with some of the thoughts you end up having.
It’s about paying attention to your feelings
It is about taking care of your self.© 2023 j.g. lewis
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We Wait
Undetermined hesitancy,
well past procrastination, yet far less than wasting time.
Waiting is less a function and more of a state.
It is not stillness; for that to occur the mind must settle, not
impervious, but free to allow thoughts in. And out.
Then become silence.
We, then, are waiting, knowing time will tick on anyway.
If we can stop even for a moment, to simply breathe,
we can find perspective.
It is searching for something meaningful
from something meaningless.
We seek further meaning,
knowing our lives are deeper than our pockets.
We understand there is greater nutrition in a shared meal,
that Friday will arrive each week, and a bicycle and a car
each have a purpose.
We wait; believing home has nothing to do with boundaries.
For our past to catch up with our ever-present worry, for
today to be the gift we were told it would be,
the future must unfold as it should.
In searching for this equilibrium,
have we become stuck in the balance?
Our mind is occupied.
Waiting.
We know there are people, who miss us as we miss them,
and we wait in one space thinking that one person may find us.
Waiting may be a reminder
they are not coming.
As we wait, we attempt to determine if
our response is an action, or a reaction.
We know inaction.
© 2019 j.g. lewis
