Left Handed

I tweaked my arm last week, enough that it hurt to straighten it.

I spent a few days being left-handed: opening drawers, brushing my teeth, closing the zipper on my bag and my jacket.

It was a reminder of how we, repeatedly and unconsciously, favor things that are a little bit easier, that make us a little more comfortable.

Each of these micro-choices deepens the grooves we’ve carved for ourselves, reinforcing what comes naturally and erecting a slightly larger barrier that keeps us from strengthening a weakness.

Right-handedness is also: the food we eat, the TV we ‘need’ to watch, the social media that’s become part of our lives, the way we react to emotionally challenging situations.

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