I attended an educational workshop once where they used the old right brain left brain theory as an ice-breaker. Just as a refresher: the left brain is the side that thinks logically and linearly. It’s the Mr. Spock of the bi-cameral world. The right brain is the flakey new age Aquarian who’s all about intuition and imagination. Being an actual Aquarian born on St. Valentine’s day and a writer to boot, I had high hopes for being a righty.

            We all completed a questionnaire and calculated our right or left orientation. I was surprised and maybe a little disappointed to find I was somewhere in the middle range, with neither lobe dominating. ‘What do you have to do to be right-brained?’ I wondered. Write Haiku on magic mushrooms? After all, who’s more intuitive and spontaneous than a guy like me who does weird whimsical art? It didn’t seem fair somehow.

            The convener then told us to go sit in the area of the room that corresponded to our brain dominance. It was supposed to get us up and talking. For my part, I sullenly slumped in a centre aisle chair, jealously eyeing the educators to my right. 

            In my funk, I happened to turn around and notice one woman who was so far to the left she was almost splattered on the wall. Poor automaton, I thought. Probably not a creative bling in her entire black, white and grey ensemble.

            Later in the meeting, the participants were split into groups, and I found myself seated with the extreme left-brained lady who had apparently managed to peel herself off the wall. She was neat and symmetrical and she wore large owlish glasses. It fit. 

            The ice-breaker exercise never came up—we were way past that, but as we discussed the focus of the workshop—educational priorities or some such—there was a little casual chat back and forth. 

            Somehow it came out that this woman lives with a ghost. Her house is a modest bungalow which I suspect is as neat as she is. She wasn’t at all perturbed by this state of affairs; it seems she gets along fine with her spectral roomie. After all, we all have to make adjustments. 

            Nobody scoffed or rolled their eyes. Maybe it was because she seemed so…together. Turns out this lady was the head of business at her school, a job that requires a level head and good organizational chops. It’s hard to imagine a more down-to-earth colleague.

            I hope you’re not expecting me to draw any conclusions here. I suppose as a mundane middle-of-the-road rationalist (sigh) I’m equipped to draw reasonable conclusions. But why any self-respecting ghost would choose to move in with this lady, I can’t imagine. (Sniff)