Corpus Callosum

I do not abide by the myth of being right brained or left brained because I am neither, and I am both.

I am the left hemisphere. I am the neuroscientist. Analytical. Precise. The realist. I consume information and process exactly what is given to me. I calculate my decisions down to the tiniest detail (my friends fondly call it indecisiveness). I spit out facts like they’ve been stored in an internal filing cabinet. I am a wordsmith. I am nearly fluent in three languages (including sarcasm). My identity is categorized in static boxes that wouldn’t dare to overlap.

I am the right hemisphere. I am the artist. The author. The visionary. I take nothing and create entire universes. I cannot be limited by small minded thinking or symbolic walls. I am a creator of art, poetry, and music (even though I’m not exactly musically gifted). I go off on tangents that lead me to different dimensions and am full of “what ifs” that defy laws of nature. I find comfort in the edge. My identity is only confined by my never-ending imagination.

I am two hemispheres connected by a corpus callosum. This bundle of fibers fuses my different personas into one. I am everything. I am nothing. I’m a know-it-all. I don’t know enough. I’m a scientist. I’m a writer. I aspire to be a science writer. I analyze every fold of the brain, but my fingers still yearn to thread words into concepts. I can’t let go of either part of my identity and have no desire to do so. So instead of severing the connection between my left and right hemisphere, I plan to continue the firing of neurons across that small bridge of white matter in order to stimulate my life and the lives of others.

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