Grant Yourself Permission to Laugh

This week in the news:

Deadly locust plague Africa

1. Tornadoes touch down in Alabama and Mississippi
2. 6.5 Earthquake rattles Idaho
3. Dow Plunges 974 Point after Trump Warns of “painful” times to come
4. Coronavirus live updates: Cases top 941,000 globally

I am afraid to ask what else can happen as the question might provoke the skies to open and send down battalions of wide-eyed creatures (with scales and smelly breath) armed with instruments of destruction. In fact that is what it feels like when I turn on the 24/7 newscasts that simply increase my perception of doom and gloom by broadcasting terrible, frightening events live in my living room.

It is time to put life into perspective.

We do not have the ability to eliminate any of these problems. They will intensify, but the sun will come out tomorrow. (I almost broke out in song!) Yes, times are bad; it is difficult to get out of bed, but living in fear is not an acceptable choice.

I met a man who was diagnosed with a fear of giants.

It’s called Feefiphobia

I imagine all families confront trials in different ways, but my family’s motto proclaims, “Life is a shit sandwich, learn to devour the bad with the good.” Each day serves needed sustenance to survive but events can be really shitty sometimes. To survive I’ve learned it is necessary to accept the good with the bad. In fact, I suggest thumbing your nose at the bad, by making a joke. Seize the power from the pessimists and replace it with a dose of humor.

No point in being pessimistic..

It wouldn’t work anyway.

There is a time for everything; now, we must laugh. I have examined the two alternatives, which is to cry and wallow in the unfairness of life or search for the humor in a situation which allows for the discovery of the positive in the most numbing situations. It may sound callus, but laughter provides an emotional outlet.

Why was the leper hockey game cancelled?

There was a face off in the corner.

Sure, it is important to grieve loss, but in the long term that will accomplish little. In fact, reports state, negative emotions are catalysts for unhealthy side effects whereas, positive emotions stimulate beneficial outcomes.

“I’m sorry” and “I apologize” mean the same thing. Except at a funeral.

Personal experiences reinforce this belief.

The day of my mother’s funeral,

also my birthday, remains one of the hardest days of my life but we laughed. My youngest daughter shared a memory that brought tears to my eyes, both from sorrow and laughter.

“As Kari and I sat in the private backroom waiting for the funeral to start, it was almost impossible to make small talk. We sat in silence with our cousins and stared blankly at the walls. After an eternity had passed, Grandpa walked into the room and noticed the sadness and silence.

There is a time to laugh, and Grandpa knew that we needed a laugh at this moment more than ever. He stood boldly in front of us and asked us how he looked. We all replied that he looked nice in his funeral attire. The question that then came out of my Grandpa’s mouth caught us all off guard, “Do you think I’m sexy?”

We all just stared at him with wide eyes. Then without hesitation, Grandpa started taking off his suit jacket and proclaiming of the whole world to hear, “I’m too sexy for my jacket… too sexy for my jacket…” We all busted out into uncontrolled laughter in that small room meant for mourning. Grandpa knew that Grandma wouldn’t approve of us being sad and ignored his own grief to make us all laugh. Being a part of this family, I learned at an early age that laughter is the best medicine, even if it’s not always the most appropriate situations.”

On the day a doctor announced my daughter had bone cancer

and they would need to harvest a femur bone from a donor, we cried. However, as we walked in the forest later in the week, we found a large bone from a deer among the cattails and skunk grass on the side of the path. My husband held it up while I took a picture. Then with the caption, “We found you a bone,” we forwarded to the family. Maybe sick humor but it felt good to laugh.

When my daughter received the life saving gift from an anonymous donor, our laughter continued as we teased her about having one leg shorter than the other, telling her that she would run in circles because her new bone came from an Olympic runner, and reminded her that travel through an airport would set off multiple security alarms with the new hardware installed in her body. Blunt? Maybe. Inappropriate? Probably. Therapeutic? In our family, absolutely. The laughter sustained us through the bad until we moved onto a better place in our lives.

When I woke up in the middle of the night with chest pains,

My husband’s sick sense of humor supported me again. I didn’t want to go to the hospital, but he calmly said, “You are going. You may be having a heart attack. If you die, this would give a whole new meaning to waking up with a stiff one.”

My narration of morbid jokes could fill a book. But by now you get the point.

We’ve all heard the cliche, laughter is the best medicine. Maybe it is time for a dose of laughter. In fact, today I think I may overdose.

I overdosed on Dopamine

I died a happy man