It’s about twenty after one in the morning and I’m writing this blog. For those of you wondering where I get the time to do this so much and at such random times, I’m currently recovering from surgery. Nothing life threatening thankfully, but it still means I’m off work and not too mobile. I have no television, video games or any of my other usual distractions so I decided to start a blog to pass the time. Post surgical discomfort limits my sleep to a few hours here and there so I’ve got time to surf news sites, read other peoples blogs, and think about what I encounter in my virtual roaming.

What I’ve been thinking about this morning is, “Why do I blog?”

The free time and boredom are certainly a contributing factor, but they aren’t the whole story. The fact of the matter is that I read the news and think about it even when I don’t have this much time. Normally I share my thoughts on what I encounter with co-workers or friends. Often-times that just isn’t possible (such as when I think of something at 1:20am) so the idea gets lost in the mental clutter which is my usual head space.

This blog is a way to hold on to those thoughts for future reference. It’s a sort of personal reference library by which to observe my evolution and with any luck growth. It is also an experimental lab in which I can play with ideas and express things in different ways than I might in other venues. None of this is to say that my ideas are particularly worthy of preservation. Certainly not to anyone other than me. Having said that, another part of the appeal is of course the reaction of and interraction with others. If I get a like, or even better a comment on something I’ve written, then I get an insight into someone else’s perception of me.

To some, the whole exercise of blogging amounts to nothing more than narcissistic, navel gazing. They are what I like to call, “Perfectly entitled to their opinon.” Being overweight, blogging is probably the only comfortable way for me to see my navel, never mind gaze at it. Rather than narcissistic, I prefer to think of it as an exercise in developing self awareness through interpretive pseudo-engagement. Means the same thing, but with less negative connotations. And I don’t have to try to see my belly button.

On an extremely tangential note, all this talk of navel gazing has reminded me of my love of Beluga whales. Now to tell you how that segue makes sense. In all other whales, the vertebrae in the neck are fused limiting the mobility of the head. Not so for my friends the Belugas. The last time I was at Marineland in Niagrara Falls, Ontario, I spent a lot of time watching these beautiful white whales swimming lazily about via a large window in the side of the tank. I noticed that because of the mobility of their head, a large number of them seemed to spend an inordinate amount of time coasting along on their backs,with their heads tipped forward. They looked for all the world like they were in fact gazing at their belly buttons, or possibly thinking it was maybe time to cut back on all the seafood. One way or the other, they looked thoughtful. Then I understood. What’s going through their minds is something like this. “I wonder what those things are over there. I can see them, but when I tried to go check them out, it felt like there’s an invisible rock there. I know I can’t get there to find out, so I guess I’ll just gaze at my navel and think about it for a while.” For me that’s what navel gazing is. It’s a way of trying to understand ourselves, our world and our place in that world when it’s impossible for us to experience things directly. See, there was a point to the Belugas. Then again, Belugas are so awesome they are their own point.

I called this blog “Brain Bits To Go” because that was the best way I could think of to describe this process for me. I take a bit of what’s in my head and package it for quick, convenient consumption. Like so much else we take in, some of it will be good, like mental health food, and some of it will be the intellect slaying equivalent of two pounds of refined sugar. Unlike when we were kids, we don’t have to eat everything in front of us. This is intended as a sort of Bufffet of Ideas. Take whatever you like, or don’t partake at all. In the end, all that matters is that whatever I serve up be fresh and well prepared.

All these food analogies have made me hungry so I’m going to make myself some sandwiches. While I eat, I’m going to surf the web looking for Beluga clips.

Cheers, Winston