No matter how quickly our technologies evolve, or how fast our processors process, we still rely on ancient methods to make our way through each day.

Just yesterday I wrote in my journal, printed out a card to a loved one, and tapped a text message to my daughter. I started a letter to a friend, composed a forceful email to a pharmaceutical company, and contributed to ongoing dialogue with a curious collection of sensitive souls.

I scribbled out a couple of lines to a poem, added onto the grocery list, jotted down an upcoming appointment in my agenda, and recorded a client concern warranting further investigation.

I wrote with a pencil in a notebook and used a pen on a preprinted form. I also employed a laptop, then a desktop computer, and made use of a few apps on my mobile device.

Through it all, my daily communication — regardless of the format, font or function — was done using the same standard 26 letters and 10 digits that have been used for centuries, along with a handful of punctuation marks for proper order.

In a society that wants to do everything differently than we have on the past, we are stuck on such a simple practice. My country is bilingual; both languages (English and French) use the same characters.

In my life as a writer I have used all the traditional hand-held writing instruments from crayon to fountain pen, and mechanical devices including typewriter, mainframe computer, tablets and my phone.

But the alphabet has not changed in my lifetime, nor that of my father’s, or my father’s father.

The alphabet is old, its roots dating back to 2700 BC. Since the early days of hieroglyphics, we have used similar symbols to show love and anger, and to emphasize sadness or fear. Our wants, our struggles, and our fantasies are illustrated as they always have been.

The letters remain the same. A combination of curves and lines, an R is always an r, the S is the same, again and again, like an A is an a: upper case or lower. We have barely even altered how the letters are used. Today’s Apple keyboards are essentially laid out the same as the keys on yesteryear’s Underwood.

Even the meanings of words can change, but not how they are produced. Words keep the world moving, and learning; they maintain order or spell out anarchy. And we understand. At the turn of the millennium, the printing press was named the greatest invention of all time because of its ability to help spread the written word.

We use the written word more than we ever have. Yes, the format has changed (again) but it is still both our primary form of communication and the essential instrument in recording history.

Years ago, just as this whole digital thing was really catching on, as personal computer sales began to dramatically increase, there was talk about a paperless society. Oh how wrong they were. Newspaper and magazine sales (and production) have declined, but we still shuffle an awful lot of paper at the office.

While we don’t mail letters like we used to, yet our email inboxes continue to fill up.

It’s only words.

We can boast about how society has changed or evolved (even improved), but the foundation of communication are the letters that grew from symbols once scratched out on the walls of caves.

How simple; how profound; how enduring.

©2017 j.g. lewis

 

The flowers now bloom, even
on the graves. The severity of
the winter has passed.
Everything has blossomed again.
The birds sing, even in darkness,
because they can,
even on nights when
we cannot sleep.

A love of mine now destroyed,
even amid the beauty
of where we are, and
how we live, there is a sadness.
The birds sing, even as
the stars cry, everything seems right.
A summer’s night
and the flowers bloom.

Life is played, through the days. When
talking of the past, how far
do you want to go? Every detail,
every place, or struggle.
Things you one time wanted
to know. I think you should go.
The flowers still bloom. How often
do you think of that day?

How relevant is whatever it is,
to what is you? Now and
present. Just as we are comprised
of flesh and bone, and psyche,
the flowers still bloom. We water them
because everything has life,
but how do we care
for ourselves?

The birds sing, early, to remind of
another day. Our life, from the ground
up, is built on meaning,
moments, and relationships with
people and places. See what
is beautiful, remember what
is beautiful.
The flowers bloom.

©2013 j.g. lewis

 

Unrestrained now,
not always so. No longer
a tangle of censored actions, insecurities,
or efforts to blend into mindless,
matter-of-course, societal ways.
Today, resurrected
to unexpected wiles, barely the
shadow of a once-cautious child.

An impervious spirit,
no longer pacified by attention
from just anyone. Once mistaking paltry
pick-up lines for poetry, sucking in the
seduction of each stanza, forever
confusing choice with
chance. Always learning the
difference the hard way.

Now bypassing innocuous
thought, ideals embraced
only by the tame. Tried that before. Never
again. Wild heart now, not always so,
no longer does it pulse for the pleasure of
someone else. Security comes
from knowing blood rushes only
for favour of the self.

©2017 j.g. lewis

Estival Solstice, the longest day of our year, is a time when the sun stands still. Like the sun (if only for a moment) we should also simply be present.

Whether counting clouds by day and stargazing at night, be mindful of the space between each; our space. This is time not for thinking of goals or objectives, but to consciously be in the now.

The mid-point of the year, with so much brightness on the horizon, should not be when we look back on what has happened during the dark cooler months. Look forward, instead, through the summer heat. We know, all too well, that the cold and the darkness will return. We know we should, perhaps, be encouraged to savour this time.

There is a certain equilibrium to this solstice. While we are each guided by certain stars — our place in the astrological jungle — this period is common to us all. In fact, it is a gift. This is the big picture.

We share the same Sun. We all share the same sky. Our views may be different, but we all call this amazing planet our home.

Summer solstice gives us a brief, but needed, period of gentle inspiration. Here we have the opportunity to find balance. There is no rush. Take your time.

Make what you will of the longer days, the intricacies of each season are reflected in how we adapt to an ever-changing society. It is not to ignore the difficulties or struggles we have encountered, or have been living through, but to take in what we have learned. Perhaps you will find the freedom to make the decisions you have been avoiding, or those which offered no resolution.

This period of balance is further emphasized should you be fortunate to take a break on either side of the solstice and reflect on where you are physically. emotionally, and realistically. Travel away from your usual day-to-day will allow you to look at your situation from a different angle. Always helpful. Always appreciated.

This is where we will find our determination to continue through the remainder of the year, and to do what we must to maintain balance.

Time is neither relative or subjective, but an element that enters each equation and becomes a part of every decision. We cannot hold back time, nor can we rush ahead.

There is a rhythm to each minute.

Count the seconds as you count your blessings; separately they are a treasure, cumulatively they make up our true wealth.

©2017 j.g. lewis

 

Call it learned behaviour — something imprinted on the psyche — as you grow up watching your dad reaching for his back pocket. His wallet was always there; always in the right hip pocket.

I had a pretty good dad (one who always seemed to be reaching for his wallet) and I suppose I wanted to emulate him as I, even as a left hander, began tucking my wallet in my back right pocket.

Ever since I was 13, just like my father, my wallet has stayed in the same place.

Men’s wallets tend to be ugly things. Even those that begin as beautiful calf-skin or alligator leather, eventually turn into misshaped blobs of stuff. You see, a man has few options for carrying important things around, unlike women who have purses or handbags.

Even I who carries, daily, a backpack or messenger bag, cannot find a more secure place to store my wallet and its contents. The manly thing to do is stuff it in your back pocket.

A lot of stuff accumulates as you make your way through the daily grind: credit cards, loyalty cards, family photographs, receipts, tickets stubs, and . . . you know, stuff. There might be a little bit of cash, but mostly it’s stuff that has less of a purpose than more of a reason.

Eventually this brick-shaped bulge you sit on for most of the day affects your posture and your mood. It become uncomfortable. Your back and spine are forced into an unnatural curve, the sciatic nerve and even the sacroiliac are tested or stressed. You learn to accommodate, taking the wallet out of your pocket as you drive in your car, or sit at your desk.

But when you stand up, the wallet goes right back where you feel it belongs. When it is there you are aware of it being there, conscious particularly on crowded streets where potential pickpockets lurk.

It is just what you do, and have always done

Years ago I saw an advertisement for a front pocket wallet, a novel idea, but I never pursued it further. I did, for a short time, try wearing the regular wallet up front, but it just created a bulge in an awkward place.

I never thought much more about it until I recently saw the ad for these wallets in the New York Times. I’m not really an impulse shopper (unless it’s, like, music or paisley shirts) but I went ahead an ordered. Everything about the concept made sense.

The slimmer wallet was specially designed, and shaped, to fit the inner curve of a front pocket. Yes, it appears a bit awkward, at first, but it is unnoticeably comfortable.

This is not my father’s wallet.

Everything the company advertised was true. I purged my old wallet, and transferred over only what I believe I need. The front pocket wallet seems to hold the essentials. I believe. I could always use more cash, but this wallet works well and is hardly noticeable.

Except in the days following my adaptation to my wallet’s new location; you cannot believe how many times I’ve reached around back to pay for something.

We humans are, if nothing else, creatures of habit. We tend to do what we have always done. Face it, after more than 40 years I had become accustomed to the appendage in my back pocket. So much so that, even now, I will take the wallet out of the front pocket and place it in my desk drawer, just because that is what I do. Or have always done.

It is that much of a habit

This is not intended as an endorsement for a particular band of wallet (though given the quality of the product, and the lickety-split delivery, Rogue Industries is worthy of a nod) but is more about how we need to adapt to change as our lives evolve.

This is about trying to change, embracing change, and moving forward in spite of what you have done in the past. It is welcoming new concepts, or a new way of doing things.

Indeed there are many things worth keeping, but some things in our past are simply a pain in the ass.

©2017 j.g. lewis

The Rogue Wallet      www.rogue-industries.com