My left hand didn’t trust me. My right hand wanted to lead.
When I sat down to play Ode to Joy with both hands for the first time, it felt like trying to pat my head and rub my belly while riding a bicycle on a tightrope.
Simple melody. Complex coordination. My brain lit up like a city switching on its lights at dusk.
Something shifted. Not just in the music. In me.
I started slow.
Thumb meets thumb. Then they split—one holding the ground, the other carrying the tune.
I missed notes. I laughed. My fingers argued.
And then, for a few bars, they agreed.
Harmony.
Like two friends finally walking in step.
Something shifted. Not just in the music. In me.
Playing with both hands is a workout for the brain
You’re running two programs at once—melody and harmony—while your eyes track symbols, your ears check timing, and your muscles calibrate pressure.
Executive functions, working memory, processing speed—this is their gym. Each repetition isn’t just practice; it’s construction.
New roads. Better traffic. Faster routes between neighbourhoods that rarely spoke.
Science backs this.
Intensive piano practice trains the brain. It strengthens attention in noise. It sharpens working memory. It speeds how we process information. It even reshapes the map—more connectivity in frontal, temporal, parietal regions. More integrity in white matter highways. Less decline with age. More resilience. More life in the lights.
I stopped playing for the last couple of weeks due to some reasons but after reading a scientific article recently I am starting again!
What about you?
Have you tried? Do you wish to?
What happens in your body when both hands move?
Do you feel the tug-of-war—or the truce?
What song will you make your first handshake?
