My Opposite Hand

In April of 2018, repetitive strain in my right hand (my writing hand) had me teaching myself to write with my left. The process was both intellectually fascinating and emotionally healing. Just this week, Bookanista.com published my personal essay about it, which you can read here.

“Knowing how to write with my right was no help at all. Holding the pen in my left, I couldn’t even imagine my usual way of writing the letter A, let alone any of my flourishes and shortcuts. What my left hand did was try to write the way I was taught in elementary school. At first it was spindly, more like the writing of an old person, but over time it began to look more like that of my fourth- or fifth-grade self.

“I didn’t feel like a child as I wrote, though. I felt thoughtful, partly because I could only grasp a few of the words I was transcribing at a time. So much of my mind was wrapped up in forming the letters. This meant very close reading, leading to revelations that wouldn’t have arisen on faster reading. But I’m sure this thoughtfulness also stemmed from accessing different brain areas, and from a slow emotional reveal that I will get to in a moment.”