Shit. It’s three in the morning. I always say this like it’s a surprise. Where DID the time go? But let’s face it, this happens constantly. For over a year now I’ve been sitting down last-minute, exhausted, to write. I tell myself I’ll write earlier, that I won’t write as many words this time, but I don’t. Please don’t think I’m playing the martyr here. These are the facts–these are my choices. But clearly I haven’t quite made peace with them yet.

I’m working on it, dear reader, I’m working on it.

Today has been a wonderful day. I spent most of it doing what I love–reading, learning. I picked up two new books yesterday, and they’ve cut to the front of the line. One is about how facial structure relates to personality (who knew?), and the other is about how writing with your non-dominant hand can help you tap into your inner child and healer (that is, the other side of your brain). So far both books are fascinating, but I’m completely taken by the one called The Power of Your Other Hand. A terrible title for a single person like me, to be sure, but the book itself is solid gold.

(That was a sex joke, Mom.)

Since it’s late and I’m only two chapters in, I’ll be more detailed about the book later. But I will say the theory is that using your non-dominant (normally left) hand directly accesses your right brain, and so far my right brain (creativity, playfulness, spirituality) has told my left brain (logic, order, control)–“You’re too serious,” “Give it a rest,” and “I’m important too.” These messages alone are enough for me to reconsider my general approach to life and myself. How long have these opinions been waiting to be heard? How long have I been silencing or ignoring–even partially–half of who I am?

I spent this evening decorating at my aunt’s house–well–her dining room, since she just bought a new dining room table and china cabinet. I love doing stuff like this. First I thought, I have no idea where to start. But then I began grouping her knickknacks and pictures by color, size, “feel,” figuring out what went with what. Eventually a plan came together. I arranged one cubby in the china cabinet, then two, and so on. After that, I began hanging pictures on the wall. All night long I was back and forth to the other rooms, the garage, searching for other items that went with our theme.

“Do you have any books?” I asked my aunt.

“Yes, over there,” my aunt said.

“Okay, but I’m real picky–I only want hardback ones in certain colors.”

After four hours, it had all come together. Sure, there’s still work to do, but the china cabinet is done, and a several large photos or prints are on the wall (not pictured). I can’t tell you how good it feels. I love seeing a decorating project coalesce. Much like writing, there are so many surprises along the way. My aunt had bought a wooden tray with three clear Mason jars that set inside it. Originally I’d planned to use it “as it,” but my aunt has a lot of colored vases, and I thought, What if I put the glassware collection inside the tray instead and used the Mason jars elsewhere? Eeek, I just love the way it turned out. So much better (I think.)

I’ve never really thought about it before, but decorating really uses both sides of my brain. Most certainly, it uses the creative side, the side that’s more wild and not contained, the side where’s anything’s possible. But then it also uses the more logical, structured side, the perfectionist side, the side that has limits. One of the exercises in the book today asked that I draw both sides of my brain as I intuitively sensed them. Oddly enough, I drew my left side as “sunny” and my right side as “stormy.” I’m still fleshing out what this means, but I know that most of the time, I present a shiny face. I extend my right hand (which connects to my left brain), smile, and put on a good show. The other side of me, my left side, my “darker,” stormier side, I keep hidden. But that side is me too (and, like a storm, it’s powerful), and I’m learning that both sides are not only useful but necessary, that both sunshine and rain are required for growth.