Screwing or Unscrewing?

I am, without question, the resident handyman in my household. Whether it's changing a light bulb, hanging a picture frame, or tending to the garden I proudly planted, I'm the one who gets it done. My personal mantra is simple: “If I don't do it, it's not going to be done—so I may as well do it, and do it now.” It’s a mindset that has served me well—most of the time.

The problem is, though, that some of these seemingly simple tasks come with unexpected challenges—particularly anything that involves screwing or unscrewing. Because of my center brained propensities and my directional challenge, I have a chronic inability to instinctively know which direction is which. Lefty-loosey, righty-tighty? Sure, I’ve heard the saying. But in the heat of the moment, tools in hand and frustration mounting, those rules are inadequate, especially since I have to first ascertain which side is "lefty" and which side is "righty."

Take my garden hose, for example. A few days ago, I discovered it was spraying water wildly—not from the nozzle I was holding, but from the connection at the spigot. It was like the hose had decided it no longer wanted to cooperate and was just venting its frustration all over me. Clearly, something had gone wrong with the threading, right? Cross-threaded? Cross-screwed? Whatever it was, water was escaping in every direction except the one I intended.

Now, there are a few plausible explanations for what had gone wrong. It could be that the regular movement of the hose from one place to another had gradually caused some misalignment. Or maybe the hard water had built up mineral deposits over time, leading to an uneven fit between the hose and faucet. Then again, maybe—just maybe—it had been cross-threaded from the start, and I never noticed.

Either way, I decided to fix it. How hard could it be to unscrew a hose and reattach it correctly? Famous last words. I twisted and turned and strained and struggled, but the hose stayed put—defiantly. It wasn’t until I was already soaked and increasingly irritated that a humbling realization hit me: I had been tightening it the whole time instead of loosening it.

Armed with this revelation, I reversed direction, confident that I’d now triumph. But again, nothing. The hose clung tighter still. I went back and forth, switching directions, unsure whether I was loosening or tightening anymore. At one point, I think I actually tightened it from both directions at once. All the while, I was getting wetter by the second, and the hose was getting more snug.

Eventually, I gave up. Drenched and defeated, I walked away, humbled by the fact that something as basic as direction—clockwise, counterclockwise—continues to be my nemesis.

This isn’t a one-off event, either. As someone who enjoys taking things apart in the name of repair or curiosity, I’ve often found myself unable to put them back together, simply because I twisted in the wrong direction. Before attempting anything now, I sometimes rehearse the motion with my hands in the air, like a mime trying to screw in an imaginary jar lid. It’s not glamorous, but it helps.

I tell you, life has some unique challenges when you’re directionally challenged—not just geographically, but mechanically. And I’m convinced there are more of us out there. The world needs to hear our stories.

So—do you ever find yourself stuck in a similar spiral, wondering if you’re tightening when you’re supposed to be loosening? Or am I alone in this twisty struggle?

If you are like me in any way, I'd love to hear about your experiences. And the rest of the world definitely needs to know about our experiences.

I've actually written about many of my and others' experiences  with deciphering directions in a book I titled: "Center Brained: Why you can't tell left from right, east from west or north from south." In this book I delve in to possible causes of this condition, and I make what I believe are salient suggestions to deal with our handicap. This book is already available on Amazon and other platforms, in e-book, paper back and hardcover, as well as audio formats.

Choose the format you like and learn how we all - even the directionally savvy - can collaborate to improve the lot of the directionally disoriented. Let's endeavor to make this world a better place. Won't you join me?