I’m quite fond of all my bits. I haven’t got long shapely legs, or beautiful teeth or
gorgeous hair, but this body is the only one I’ve got and it’s mostly served me
well. So I do appreciate it, take care of it and treat it with respect.
But when it comes to my brain, well, I love it. And
as with many beloved things, it’s easy to take it for granted. Recently,
however, I’ve been reminded of just how awesome the human brain is – a blob of
electrically charged grey jelly – that is constantly developing, adapting and
I have an M.A. and M.Sc in psychology and I teach for a living, so yes, the workings of
the mind definitely interest me. But it’s been my writing life that has revived
my awe and respect – for the workings of this most amazing organ.
As I write my stories and novels I’m newly amazed at the brain’s creative abilities. I
love how it can be left to problem solve on its own. If the plot of the
work-in-progress stalls, I know that a night’s sleep, or the diversion of
exercise or music will give my brain the space it needs to tease out the knots,
puzzles and blocks. It’s like preparing a meal. You gather the ingredients, set
the mix off, and leave it to simmer. And while you’re not looking the ingredients
morph, mutate and synthesise into a pleasing and satisfying dish.
I love the right brain/left brain interaction of writing, I love the eureka moments, the
moments of change, inspiration, decompression that are all involved in the
creative process. I love the plasticity and adaptability of the brain – how it
constantly makes leaps and new connections. This process is obvious in my young
pupils, but it’s particularly heartening to see that the process continues
I hope that my brain and my writing continue to nourish one another until I draw my last
breath. I hope that engaging in the creative process keeps my brain as fit as walking
and jogging keep my heart and lungs. I hope my brain knows how much I love it.