The Natural Right Brain Enhancement System, Part Two

Remember, every famous folly begins with a nidus of truth, and so too the NRBES. My quest for a functional right brain began with one of the oldest cliques in the book: "either use it or loose it." Accept this as your mantra and come along with me.

Frosted fecalith #2: The disclaimer. The NRBES requires lifestyle changes that may lead to unwanted attention from strangers, minor cuts and abrasions, and suspicious glances from your significant other.

First of all, bear in mind our goal: revival of the remnant that was once your fully-functional right brain. While success may take from you all sense of time and an above average credit rating, the rewards are worth it. Writers, find the final path to the climax of your story. Artists, the beauty in every-day things that were once a blur will come into sharp relief. Musicians, let the melody soar through every cleft without making a deal with the devil. Enough already. This is how I did it. The concepts are universal. Adjust them to your life.

Step One-the day begins. I walk into the bathroom and grab the vitamin bottle not with my right hand but my left. Then it's the shave cream followed by the razor, the comb through my hair: all left handed.

I'm dressing now, but when I grab the belt I circle the waist not counter clockwise, but the other way, pulling tight and centering the prong in the hole with my left hand. It will feel weird, but do it 24 times in a row and it becomes habit.

I tie my shoes left-handed, but only on days when i have a good half hour to spare. Not even I, lord of the NRBES, have mastered this step. I keep trying. When I succeed it can lead to one thing - a NY Times best seller.

Step Two-breakfast. My right hand recovers from the shock. Laced by a left uppercut in the bath, it springs off the mat and reclaims its rightful (no pun) place. My right hand reaches for the cereal bowl, the milk, the blueberries, and I stop. Nothing short of sweaty, grunting effort puts the dominant hand back at my side. I take a breath, and force the frail opposite to sort, grasp, carry everything to the table. By this time I am twenty minutes into the day and thirty minutes behind; but the quest continues. Cereal and milk pour into the bowl, I drink my o.j. and use the spoon, all left handed.

I must admit, in the first days doing the NRBES the mornings were ugly. By the time I got out of the bathroom and into the kitchen, there were half a dozen facial knicks dripping blood into my Frosted Mini-Wheats. Milk dribbled off my chin and my left hand wielded the spoon with all the grace of a lobster holding chopsticks.

Frosted fecalith #3: Don't let Gillette fool you, in an untrained hand even the Mach3 Turbo is a dangerous weapon.

For those with the temerity to slog through the initial shock of what can only be described as a self-induced palsy, the payoff is huge. Within days of starting the NRBES my writing took on a sheen it had never had before. Point-of-view was consistent; character development seemed to be in the hands of Philip Roth. And though I still struggle with passive verb intrusions, dialogue rolls and snaps and conjugation has been a revelation.

Now faithful blogger, enough for today. By now your right brain is exhausted and your left in open rebellion. In my next post we leave the friendly confines of hearth and home and take on garden tools.