When we were 13, my friends and I accidentally walked into the wrong movie theatre. We had inadvertently stumbled across a film we never wanted to watch called My Left Foot. This wasn’t what we paid five dollars for! We had bought tickets for a masterpiece of juvenile comedy called Madhouse starring John Larroquette (of Night Court fame) and Kirstie Alley (of Cheers fame).
For interest’s sake, I read a couple historical reviews of each of these movies. My Left Foot, the true story of a man with cerebral palsy who becomes a successful artist, ranks as one of the best movies of that year, winning two Academy Awards. Madhouse? Let’s just say this film's attempt at humour – a poorly written Christmas Vacation without the Chevy Chase – hasn’t aged well. It probably was never funny.
But at 13, we couldn’t be bothered to watch the inspirational story of a man struggling to overcome a condition that left him bullied, poor and suicidal. We wanted Madhouse! And so, after expressing our teenaged angst with the nearest cinema attendant, we found the correct theatre. If I recall correctly, we thoroughly enjoyed one of the most forgettable movies of that era.
This is a poor segue into what I want to talk about, but I thought it might pique your interest. Sorry, I got nothing else!
What I want to talk about today is my left hand. I want to know specifically: What is it good for? It is a very poor replacement, I’ve recently learned, for my right hand.
While I’m a decent badminton player with my right hand, I couldn’t win against a toddler with my left. While I can write and cook with my right hand reasonably well, when I use my left to hold a pen or cut a vegetable, I am but a child.
Yet when my right hand goes down, this is what I’m left with (no pun intended). Due to a strain in my right forearm, otherwise known as “tennis elbow” – in my case, it should really be called badminton elbow – I'm forced to rely on my feeble, nearly useless left hand.
Not to be overly dramatic, but it’s humiliating. For the last few weeks, I’ve been trying to re-learn how to use a computer mouse with my left hand. Every push of the button takes an extra moment of thought over which button to press and where to press it. The lack of precision is unbearable. My right hand can only watch in exasperation. I’m sure it’s thinking to itself, “What the heck are you doing? Hand it over, now!" (No pun intended.)
Did I really ignore my left hand for so long that it’s become this useless?
Remember back in the day, when lefties were viewed with suspicion and derision? I have relatives, born left-handed, who were forced to use their right hand growing up. Let’s keep an open mind – maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing? If they ever get tennis elbow or, God forbid, lose an arm, they will thank their parents with all their heart for forcing them to be ambidextrous.
Learning to be left-handed at my age is difficult. It’s like trying to put on your pants left foot first every morning. It’s like learning how to Ukrainian dance as a 46-year-old. It’s like learning another language when you’re nearing 60 – just ask my sister-in-law and her husband from Ukraine. It can be painful!
I’m going to bring this full circle back to the movie I never ended up watching. My Left Foot was literally about a man’s left foot – the one body part he could use with precision, given his condition, to create works of art. I’m sure this was no easy feat (no pun intended), but he did it – enriching his life by doing so.
When we try something new or different, it expands our minds. Learning Ukrainian dance pushed me like never before – I am a non-dancing Mennonite, after all. My sister-in-law and her husband are developing parts of their brain they never thought possible at their age by learning English. They were forced into this situation because of the war in Ukraine, but they also want to succeed in our society. That takes not only mental stamina but courage.
The benefits of learning something new are many. Research has shown that challenging our brain and body later in life can reduce the risk of Alzheimer's and delay dementia.
So try putting your pants on a different way next time (no, not backwards), and see what it does for you. Put your best left foot forward and try something new, like dancing – even if you have two left feet. (No puns intended!)
If you’re like me, you might even start to like it.
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