Everyone knows if they’re right or left handed. But do you know whether you’re right or left brained? Does it matter?
No, of course not. Although medical science attributes imagination, creativity and artistic pursuits to the right brain. (The left side is the responsible one, doing all the maths, and telling you not to buy that pair of shoes, no matter how hard the right side bargains for them.)
Personally, I like to think of my right brain as the free spirited,
inventive wild-child who likes to climb trees. It’s the source of all those
great (crazy) ideas which always seem to land at midnight; the bit of grey
matter which knits together those daydream moments of wisdom and enlightenment
and sees their true potential. For creatives, they are the moments of delicious
inspiration. It’s when characters are born, when the notes of a song rise into
being, when paint on a canvas evolves beyond a simple mix of colours.
Perhaps it’s more relatable to say your grey matter is how you see the
world. It’s your unique perspective, and the essence of you. As
individual as your fingerprint.
Ultimately, the privilege of having a human brain, language, and opposable
thumbs renders us capable of great things. However a wild imagination may
come with other distractions, such as panoramic vision and surround-sound
hearing. It can get overwhelming, being bombarded with so much detail.
There’s often an urgency to capture an idea when inspiration comes. But
things can get manic. A project can become an obsession.
Creatives talk about flow, and being in the zone – when an all-consuming
passion compresses hours into minutes. Sometimes it’s difficult to find
an off-switch. Life can get hectic.
Mine developed into a humming awareness of everything. The thrumming,
constant idling of my restless brain; the complex inflection of birdsong; the
musical chatter of a crowded train. As if I could hear each shift and sigh
of every living thing. It never stopped. Suddenly that slippery
creative slope had become so steep, and I was hurtling downwards. At some
point you will hit the bottom. The crash-landing will be spectacular, with all
of the consequences.
I’m better now. I guess you could say it’s the price you pay… I
mean, all of this thinking can burn up alot of energy, and sometimes my brain
just feels a bit too full.
Frankly though, if my right brain fell into radio silence, I think I’d be
bereft. I’ve grown used to its muttering – and I’d still rather live in a
noisy Technicolor world than the beige alternative. In fact, despite its
intrusive nagging, I generally welcome the contributions from my right
hemisphere. It’s always planning and scheming and making-up stories;
stomping around in the background. A subliminal auto-pilot, steering me
into the wind. And like that box of chocolates, you never know what
you’re gonna git.
I do make the effort to calm my restless brain by taking it to the beach for
a skate, or down to the pool. But while the rest of my body is swimming
laps, the right brained naughty child is poking me in the ribs with its latest
idea. It has no respect for boundaries, and no concept of down time.
At least I’m more aware of the need to step away from the page now; set some
boundaries. I’ve learned a useful lesson; that the brain doesn’t always
stop to consider whether the body is keeping up. Good to know.
There’s so much focus on image these days and taking care of your body, that
it’s easy to forget you should sometimes take your brain for a walk in the
park. Make it a cup of tea. Put down that phone. Chat with a
friend, face to face.
From someone who’s had their Icarus moment, may I make a suggestion?
Please be careful. It’s hot up there.
Even things with wings must come back down to earth to sleep and feed.
Angela J Dawson 
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