When Laughter Doesn't Come

On most days I can find many reasons to laugh. Whether it's a funny comment from one of my kids, the seemingly endless antics of my dog, Cloey Margaret, a witty email or a fun Facebook video, (Pugs that waterski! Beagles that steal chicken nuggets from toaster ovens! Golden Retrievers with insatiable appetites!) I find myself smiling and shaking my head at the laughable absurdities that are part of this human's experience. If something is just a little bit bothersome, I’m often able to diffuse my frustration and instead appreciate the humor of the situation.

But then there are the days when humor is harder to access, when problems are big and scary. You probably know what I'm talking about: those days when you feel as if you're drowning in disasters and laughing is pretty much out of the question. Your mind is packed to the gills with the nasty complexities of life, whether it be rejection, poor health (yours or someone else’s), difficult decisions, distressing conversations and/or life situations that seem to have no answers, despite the fact that YOU NEED ANSWERS!

You've also probably found fear, confusion and sadness to be lousy conductors of laughter, particularly while in the throes of these awful feelings. But here's a thought I've been kicking around during my own bouts of distress: I'm starting to believe that taking short break from humor is a good thing.

How else do we stop and feel what we really need to feel? Laughter can serve as fantastic medicine, sure. But I suspect there are moments and days when the luxury of laughter is not ours to possess. There are instances when we have to face mental pain because laughing it off and shutting it out can be a terrible habit to get into. 

Despite our social need to keep up jovial appearances, there’s no shame in feeling sadness and admitting that there are some really, seriously rotten things that happen to us and to those around us, despite our best efforts to prevent them. And they're far from amusing.

But once we feel pain I've noticed that good things can start to happen. We ask for help. We step in. We're able to empathize with others and relate to what they are going through. The mind that’s so numbed to pain can hardly acknowledge and alleviate the pain of others.

So while a humorless life would prove wholly unbearable, having moments or even a day when we allow ourselves to soak in the gravity of the situation keeps our compassion in check. If we're honest with ourselves about how we feel, we can let down our guard and humor will slip in when you least expect it. 

In true, comic timing fashion.