I’m on a mission right now to re-discover the path to my creative brain. To be present in my dreams, listen to my silent brain, and ultimately remember what it feels like to be a kid.
My jerk ego gets in the way of these efforts, so I have to play tricks to get around him. Tricks like keeping a notepad close at hand while showering, or writing as soon as I wake up in the morning, while my dream-thoughts are still fresh. My ego doesn’t like when I play tricks like listening to a musical artist that I admire, or watching Ray Bradbury youtube interviews.
My left brain is one of those silly British guards with a fuzzy black hat and a rifle and a permanent wedgie. My right brain is a flamboyant and idealistic young prince.
One has a furrowed brow, the other a pair of wide hazel eyes.
Of course I can’t live without Mr. Left Brain. When I brush my teeth, he helps me grab the toothpaste tube instead of the alcohol rub. But if I let him take complete control, then I become less like a living community of organisms and more like a marching corporation.
Adulthood and responsibility inevitably push us toward a life of funlessness. It’s natural to move along the spectrum from simplicity to complexity as you get older.
This year I’m on a mission to swim against the current, and regain some of that ground that I’ve lost that’s rightfully mine.