Back a few years ago I took on the direction of a couple of cantatas at church. Music for me has always been an emotionally moving experience. What I call “lousy” music is no different, except the mood isn’t nice in me. That aside, I approached the cantatas with eagerness and dutifully reviewed over and over the timing and phrasing that needed to coincide with the prerecorded accompaniment. As a right handed person, I attempted to use my right hand to direct. Well, wouldn’t you know; old happy hand on the right, my otherwise cheering section, would have none of it. She lagged behind, required a shoulder and arm fling to direct an upbeat, and was otherwise uncooperative. Good old leftie came to the rescue, however. I began to appreciate my left digits in ways I never thought I would. The hand was precise, in rhythm, and totally responsive to my brain’s command. What a blessing! Thanks to Mr. Happy, Miss Lefty got a chance to shine like a newly minted penny on a sunny day. You see, back then I thought the well performed cantata was the purpose. I discovered that Miss Lefty’s stellar rise in the performing arena was just as meaningful to me as the cantata itself. Others enjoyed the performance; I enjoyed the performance AND the discovery of a new friend; Miss Lefty.
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