I’ve always been fascinated with the study of the brain. I’m especially interested in the differences between the two hemispheres: the left and right. They are complete opposites when it comes to learning, taking in new information, and making decisions. Here is a brief description:
The left uses symbols, words, numbers, and anything concrete. It works efficiently and shrewdly. It learns sequentially and logically. It’s predictable and knowledgeable.
The right? It’s perceptive. Intuitive. Random. A swirl of feelings, sensations, and ideas. Holistic. Spatial. It’s the source of imagination. Silent.
My personal definition:
The left brain understands the world; the right brain understands the universe.
Think about our lives here on Earth. We thrive on communication. We perfected the art of acronyms, protocols, languages, and codes. In our hi-tech society, instantaneous knowledge is the norm. We’re sequential. We live by production cycles, 12-step programs, career paths, assembly lines, and instruction booklets. We’re logical. We make decisions based on statistics, economic indices, point spreads, and interest rates. We’re predictable. We’re born, go to school, work, marry, have children and die. This is the life of a left-brainer.
Now imagine that you pause for a slight moment to look up at the night sky. You study it. You ponder the vastness of it all and how creatures as relatively tiny as us fit into the picture.
You are curious. You feel the irresistible need to search for the source of and reason for all things: life, eternity, the universe. You instinctively know that the answer lies somewhere out there. The only way to satisfy your curiosity is to explore the vastness out there. To go as far as your mind and imagination will take you.
You are creative. Focused and self-sacrificing, you learn how to travel across the universe by warping space and time. Though you can only do this for a brief time, you’re thoroughly confident in your skills. You also know that this will take many tries. Not just one. And for each journey, you pick a star. Any one will do. As soon as you’ve chosen a handful, you use these celestial orbs as indispensable guides for the most exhilarating trips of your life.
You are courageous. You summon up the strength and determination to venture into the unknown. You leave behind all that you know and love. Traveling hundreds of thousands of millions of miles, you feel like you belong to eternity.
You are depressed. At times you find yourself drifting through the deepest and darkest regions of space. Devoid of any fiery haven or celestial glow. It’s a vacuum that’s 200 degrees colder than anything the Earth has ever known.
You are angry. At times your dreams collapse under their own weight and blows up into nonexistence. The same goes for the star you chose for this journey of yours. The celestial orb spontaneously explodes right before your eyes. It can the most intense sight in the entire galaxy. With the power of hundreds of billions of suns, it engulfs any heavenly body within its vast reach. Even planets dependant on it for life are abruptly dissolved or scorched forever.
You are at peace. Every so often you find a star that’s the center of an unlikely paradise. An oasis in the midst of darkness. A sort of sanctuary all to yourself. This is what you’ve desperately hoped for. This is where you thrive.
Then comes the time when you must return to Earth. You don’t have the power to live outside of the world forever. At least not yet. You slowly begin to prepare yourself. It seems to take much more courage going back than it did when you started.
When you finally arrive back on Earth, nothing’s really changed much. Except you. This is the life of a right-brainer.
I’m a right-brainer. Which side are you on?