“There is nothing wrong with me. In fact, I’m a very good boy. I do all the math. I separate color and white clothes before laundry. I can tell when a traffic light is red, a floor slippery or a person angry, thus increasing my owner’s probability of survival. And man, do I enjoy all of it!
I’m absolutely great, no doubt about it, so I cannot tolerate so many misunderstanding spread around. O.K., maybe it is true that in certain occasions I am a bit greedy with perception, to the extent of mistaking myself for the WHOLE reality… but I cannot accept rough terms like obsessive or megalomaniac. In any case, it is important to remark that most of my excesses, if there are any, are not my fault, but caused by a BAD EDUCATION, imposed on me by other left brains while I was a very tender and young brain.
…I love calculations, structures, right angles, putting some order in this strange, heterogeneous mashed potatoes structure we call reality. But of course I know that I am only a part of it. The problem is that I don’t know it all the time. I sometimes find it hard to stop, I must admit, and I rarely act as a whole with my twin brother the right brain, because, when I finally pass him the ball, I am usually too exhausted to contribute. So we live kind of divided.
What do you have to say about that, right brain? Oh yes, I forgot that you don’t talk. You’re too busy being this or that. It would be so easy if I could have a conversation with you, from time to time… I sometimes envy you for your nice existence, no memory, no anticipation, just your pure, nice present. But then I figure out a new way to classify butterflies, napkins or human beings, and it feels nice being myself again.
You’re so easy to victimize, right brain… I have to set myself the limits, and it is hard: you never contradict me, you don’t blame for my “me first” stance. I would like us to work as a unit again; I’m sure that we could learn a lot from each other. But first I have to learn to stop grabbing. I’ll try, I promise. I’ll try not to try so hard. Until that day, I want to apologize for blurring every experience with words. I remember that old novel by Aldous Huxley where a guy runs over a dog and simply processes it as “data”, giving a “lecture” on biology and alive beings to his horrified wife.
But, oh, you see? Here I was, throwing all my files again into you. I’m sorry, honey, I didn’t mean it. Come on, take a deep breath. Draw a picture, sing something, do some of those peculiar things you’re so good at. I am a good boy, damn it…”
Any left brain reading there? Won’t you show some solidarity?
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Dear Left Brain,
Have you thought about learning music? I think you’d enjoy it, since music can be quite scientific and mathematical. If you learn the basics, then we’ll be able to chat
Sincerely,
Right Brain
Oh yeah, the sweet sweet music… there’s room for both of us in music. But I’m not sure it is exactly scientific… I mean, it is you the one who started to mumble weird things in our cavern days (remember?) All I did was coming up later with a way to keep and arrange all that stuff… you know, there were terrific and so-so things mixed up there…
Thanks for commenting Melissa