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On the Other Hand…
(a piece written for Kaskade which annoyed at least one person)
Part of what makes juggling extraordinary to the spectator is the balanced use of both sides of the body, as well as the ability to do several things at once. Actually, we are very rarely doing several things at once. Most jugglers are doing tempo juggling and this is usually a series of actions carried out in linear sequence, only appearing to happen simultaneously because of the speed. It can't be by chance that SO many computer buffs are into tempo juggling.
We describe the space we occupy with three dimensions. UP/DOWN which is the difference between head and feet; objects can be rolled, balanced or bounced on the head, kicked with the feet, or even manipulated with the feet when lying on the back. The next dimension is FRONT/BACK and again, most people juggle in front of the body, even though objects may pass briefly behind the back. The third dimension is LEFT/RIGHT and here we find a mystery. The difference between head and feet, and the difference between the front (containing most of the sense organs) and the back are quite evident How do we distinguish the right from the left? It is very obvious to us that they are different, and yet we would find it difficult to explain clearly to an alien just what the difference entails. A right-hand glove turned inside out will fit the left hand. The size and shape of the hands is the same, so what is that difference exactly?
We have different words for the two sides, and in many languages there is a clear distinction, because of the significance of the ways we use our hands. In many cases the fact that a larger proportion of people use their right hand has led to a preference for the use of the word for "right" to carry connotations of true, correct, fair, proper, etc., while the idea of the left can carry implications of clumsiness, sneakiness, weakness, etc. If you can't dance, you are said to have two left feet, (oh yes, it is not just the hands, but the whole side.)
When I first took up juggling I thought about this a lot, because I was training myself. I discovered that a lot of jobs actually involved both hands, but one would get the credit. If you write with your right hand, for instance, which hand holds the paper?
The truth is that most people are not entirely right or left sided, but they don't notice. There are a series of exercises to find out. In fact, the hand we credit is the active hand, but the other hand is passive rather than actually inactive. Which hand holds the nail when the strong hand holds the hammer? Check it out with mime. How do you strike a match? Which hand holds the fork and which the knife, when actively cutting? Which hand holds the fork when you are using only that and no knife?
Interesting? Which foot do you kick with? Which foot do you take off from when jumping and on which foot do you land?
There is also often a dominant eye. Hold up one finger at arm's length, and try to cover some distant object. You may have two images of the finger, but try to blend the images and cover the object. Now if you shut first one eye and then the other you will see which eye's input was the one you depended on when judging if the object was covered.
Which ear do you put the telephone to? Language is processed by the side of the body which writes, so perhaps the spoken language too has to be fed in that side. Can you follow conversations equally easily with the other ear?
It is endlessly fascinating when you realize the difference is there. When you fold your arms, which forearm is on top? Try these things the other way.
When I realized
that juggling was throwing rather than catching, I knew that I had to build up
the left arm's active confidence by practice. To awaken that arm I moved my
small change to the opposite pocket. The first few times I dipped my right hand
into its own pocket before I remembered. Then my right arm took to reaching
awkwardly across the body to reach in the left pocket before finally remembering
and using my left. It was interesting trying to do things with the opposite
hand, and very frustrating. When I tried learning the fast clapping rhythms of
Flamenco, I had a problem, because traditionally the right hand strikes the
left. I was surprised to find out (thinking that I was right handed) that I clap
left-handed. In fact, clapping appears symmetrical but if you try it you will
find that one hand hits the other. There has been a lot of
simplistic media-science chatter about the left and right brain - the left
hemisphere of the brain (controlling the right side of the body) has been
related to analytical brain functions; it's logical, rational, linear, it
controls language and maths, etc. The right hemisphere is assumed to be intuitive,
holistic, it appreciates art and music, its only link to language being emotional
(swearing and cursing, the lyrics of songs).
This is a half-truth, ideally suited to magazine articles. Some left-handers have reversed polarity, so that their right brain is the logical one, but others are wired the same way as right-handers. Whether that means that they are more "artistic" and less rational is hard to say. The hemispheres trade information, and can learn each other's jobs (to some extent) if there is any damage. Often a trick learned on one side is more quickly learned on the other.
Stan Gooch has a theory that both the hemispheres of the cerebrum are the conscious mind, and it is the cerebellum that houses the dreaming mind. In most medical textbooks, the cerebellum is considered to be solely in charge of physical balance and coordination (which makes it of interest to jugglers, anyway).
In a playful column called Tarmac the Magnificent's Show of Ignorance (IJA Newsletter) the writer suggested that the tonic effect of juggling is to do with the rapid switching back and forth between the hemispheres.
Another interesting aspect of this research is the possibility that when learning non-dominant hand tricks we should talk or do mental arithmetic to distract the dominant hemisphere, which otherwise can be hypercritical and keep trying to take over. It's a bit like Laurel and Hardy, "Here let ME do that!"
In juggling terms, this material is relevant to training. Are your backcrosses lop-sided not because of the throwing, but because your dominant eye tries to do the job on both sides, causing a variation in degree of head turn, etc?
Although it would seem ideal to be symmetrical there may well be good reasons why we mostly develop asymmetrically.
When I learned acrobatics I was encouraged to practise cartwheels on both sides (thus avoiding the embarrassment of having to enter from the difficult side of the stage and ending up with my back to the audience). When it came to learning the round-off, however (this is the move that leads into flic-flacs), my coach discouraged learning to do it both ways. She said, "When you are going into an ambitious move, it is better not to have to make any decision about the lead-in, which could lead to hesitation."
Habits save us from a multitude of tiny decisions, as you will discover if you start experimenting in everyday life, and have to decide which hand to use every time you do anything.
There was, in fact, an Ambidextrous Society in England at the turn of the century, promoting the idea that we should train everyone to use both hands equally, so that we could get so much more work done (!). This does not only mean doing the same thing equally well with either hand, like Da Vinci painting, or doing the same thing simultaneously with both, but actually doing two different things. Ruskin was a member and could draw a horse with one hand while sketching a portrait of someone with the other (which makes juggling three balls in one hand and two rings in the other sound easy)- Whether this was an exceptional talent, or could really be learned by everyone, is hard to say.
From learning acrobatics and juggling I discovered that if you have been heavily asymmetrical then it is important to treat your weaker side gently when you begin to balance up. Many problems can arise when the weaker side tries to train as hard as the stronger side - and strains or tires itself in the process. Having strained itself, it then does less training, and confirms its own self-image as weaker or less competent.
Remember that, like athletes, the more you chase the "human limits" (even with scientific, systematic training), the more likely you are to expose previously unrecognized weaknesses. Many jugglers do not even warm up, let alone train their bodies, so losing generally balanced coordination in pursuit of a specialised "balance".
There are many joys in symmetry and balance, if they can be achieved and sustained (and tempo juggling offers a lot in this kind of training of the hand and arms), but bear in mind the possibilities in asymmetry, which can astound people even more - isolating different limbs for combination tricks - like spinning a hoop on one leg, while balancing a prop on one hand, bouncing a ball on the head and tossing three balls with the other hand. This kind of work is very demanding, It is more artificial and less flowing, and is less seen these days - but it is extremely impressive. I think it is likely to re-emerge in the next few years, with its entirely different set of challenges.
Toby Philpott, Bristol ©
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