Hello. I am Left Brain and I’m honored to be able to be here today, speaking to you all.
Let me tell you a little about myself. As you probably know, I am a scientist and a mathematician. I love the familiar. I categorize. I am accurate. Linear. Analytical. Strategic. I am practical. Always in control. A master of words and language. Realistic. I calculate equations and play with numbers. I am order. I am logic. I know exactly who I am.*
I am always cast in a dull grey light and fall victim to a snoring, boring reputation. People think that I’m a first class party pooper and I’m rarely featured as anything more than a supporting role in this thing we call life. You view me as a necessity but never thank me for my vital role in your life except in hindsight.
And I’m tired of it.
You people just don’t seem to get it. You praise my partner, Right Brain, for all the fantastical things you experience. She is creativity. A free spirit. She is passion. Yearning. Sensuality. She is the sound of roaring laughter. She is taste. The feeling sand beneath bare feet. She is movement. Vivid colors. She is the urge to paint on an empty canvas. She is boundless imagination. Art. Poetry. She senses. She feels. She is everything you wanted to be.*
But the truth is, she, the Right Brain, couldn’t exist without me.
The brilliant, flying colors of a phenomenal fireworks display wouldn’t be if I hadn’t mastered the science of chemistry and combustion.
The most creative writers of our time wouldn’t have their thoughts and legacies bound within our favorite books if they couldn’t have used me to analyze the world around them and find alternative perspectives.
The paint on Dali’s canvas wouldn’t be nearly as moving if I hadn’t provided him the ability to comprehend how one pigment lying atop another would impact the outcome of mixing colors.
Without my appreciation for the familiar, you would always be on the prowl for something new and never feel the safety or security of a good friend or a place to call home.
Every scientist is an artist – they just work from a different palette. They paint glorious pictures of healing through the construction of genetic blueprints.
Every mathematician is a poet – making sense of this world through carefully crafting just the right equations. Numbers are their nouns and symbols serve as their operators and verbs.
Each and every analyst on this fine earth bares the bones of creativity as they pick apart the unseen and forge conclusions from things they’ve never experienced themselves. Much like our most beloved authors.
Athletes become stars when they pair their movement with the strategy of the game.
Friends become lovers when their passion is partnered with the realization that their beau is literally one of a kind.
Bravery becomes heroism when someone understands the odds and chooses to defy them anyway.
You can feel, and taste, and smell, and hear without me…. but you can’t make sense of any of it with just her. The smell of Grandma’s cookies, the sound of your child’s voice, your favorite holiday dish to pass… none of that would bring you reminiscent joy without my appreciation of the familiar.
I’m tired of being left out in the credits when it comes to all things beautiful in this life. I am integral to beauty. I am essential to your experience of beauty. And you need to give me a little more love than you have been, people. I demand a little respect and appreciation, folks.