Brain studies believe the left side is responsible for logic and order.
The right side is more aligned with creativity and intuition.
Together, the left and right side of the brain allow us to function at top levels.
The late humorist Jeanne Robertson referred to her husband as Left Brain, and I can relate 100 percent. Like the Robertson’s, my husband’s a left-brained person and I’m a right-brained human.
For a couple of months, my bike has been making sounds, like something’s rubbing on the tire. My right-brained solution was to ignore the sound by playing music on my phone while riding.
I asked my left-brained husband if he knew where I could take the bike to have it looked over. He said he did or I could let him look at the bike first. I got off and handed him the handlebars.
He rolled the bike back and forth, made his hand into a fist and hit the brakes a couple of times.
“Try that,” he said. I walked the bike a few feet and, wonder of wonders, the sound was gone.
He then went into a technical explanation of how the brakes work… my right-sided brain tuned out and marveled at how beautiful the sky looked and how many leaves were falling now that the weather’s cooled off.
Despite my trouble in thinking logically, I keep telling myself I can do complicated mechanical things. For instance, disabling the “maintenance required” prompt in my car.
YouTube fix-it videos are some of the most popular clips on that platform. So I typed in the problem and a couple of videos popped up.
I chose the one I understood the best. I got in the car with my phone and paper because my right brain needs step-by-step written directions – on flowered paper, of course.
Watching the video, I followed the instructions – I pressed the start button twice. The lights came on, just like in the video. I followed the next step, but the prompt didn’t come up like it did in the video.
I turned the car off and restarted the video. After the third time of being unsuccessful, I decided I could live with having the “maintenance required” screen on permanently.
After all, my right-brain rationalized, that screen’s small and I’ve ignored bigger things than that in the past.
Failure was still aggravating. I came inside, slamming the door behind me and throwing my keys on the counter.
“That stupid prompt about maintenance won’t go away,” I said. “I’m done.”
He sighed.
“Maybe you can let your spouse try and turn it off,” he said calmly.
Two minutes later, he came back inside and said the problem was fixed.
We right-brained people have to accept the reality of what we can and can’t do. I’m always going to struggle with getting flashlight batteries in the right way, even though there are plus and minus signs on the inside.
I’m never going to remember how to reset the clock in my car when it’s daylight savings time.
I’ve yet to figure out how to use the convection setting on our microwave, and I gave away our Instant Pot because I couldn’t figure out how to use it.
However, we right-brained people have a few tricks up our sleeve.
We can take scraps of material and create everything from quilts to pillows.
A can of spray paint is an opportunity to transform junk into treasures.
We see the world in vivid reds, blues and greens with adventure around every corner. Our imaginations transport us to beautiful, imaginary worlds every single day.
I’m moved to tears by beautiful music, a painting, no matter the age or talent of the artist, and the sound of a baby’s laugh.
So I can’t fix my computer, the brakes on my bike or reset the clock in my car.
My right brain knows to appreciate and thank my left-brained person who can do all those things.
This column was originally published in The Fort Bend Herald.