March 17, 2008


I seem to change my spots from time to time. The other day I was talking with an old friend and I realized that I have a number of different people living inside me and I wonder if I am alone in that. Depending on whom I am talking with and a number of other circumstances, I morph into everything from a foul mouthed truck driver, to a business executive, a writer, an intellectual, a sports nut, a handyman and some sort of self-styled spiritual guru along with several other characters who emerge from time to time. Two different people last week recommended a change in my blogs; one recommended that I spend much more time talking about sports and drop the "touchy feely" stuff. The second person, who reads me regularly, felt that I should focus on more spiritual matters and even suggested a name change to "Soul-Gas." I dare say that I could poll a few others who might want me to spend more time on stories about my misspent youth and other indiscretions. All of these people think they know who I really am, deep down.

I find myself waxing poetic about matters of the heart and soul, talking of dimensions of spirituality and comparisons between Christianity and universal intelligence theories with overtones of past and future lives and our ability to attract, through our thoughts, anything we want. A moment later, I can walk into a warehouse and trade four letter word bombs with anyone in earshot and not flinch for a second. That same day, I feel perfectly comfortable castigating the local NHL team's lethargic power play and on a dime, switching to the many foibles of government's local, provincial and national. Don't even get me started on the International scene!

I can make a case for this identity confusion by referring to my life long need to fit in and realizing that I never have. Somehow this need to discover who I am has forced me to try and be everyone, without ever finding a persona that fits inside my skin. I can be friends with priests, alcoholics, street people, lost souls, social climbers, rich, poor, successful, secretaries, grocery clerks, managers - pick a title, if you must and I don't find it particularly difficult to see myself in the role. All of that being said, my reason for writing this semi regular diatribe, is to allow some of this excess energy to find an outlet by writing about whatever is on my mind, without regard to a particular focus. Sure, I could create a few more blog sites and then concentrate my thoughts towards politics, sports, humanity and whatever other areas pop up, but that wouldn't be who I am. I could flatter myself with words like multi-dimensional, diverse and complex but find myself infinitely more attracted to confused, undisciplined and unlabelled.

Furthermore, if that d*** team doesn't get its collective head out of its collective a**, then they'll be playoff pretenders instead of contenders! And if they don't make it to the post season show, just watch how colourful the ***k*** warehouse gets!!

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