For the past several weeks I have not been able to laugh. If something was funny and everyone around me was cracking up, I looked at them, laughing so easily, but all I could do was smile, and barely.
Why couldn’t I laugh? I asked myself. Laughing is so healthy. Laughing actually makes you happy — it’s a fact. I was laughless. I tried to figure out why I wasn’t laughing and here were some reasons I came up with:
I miss my daughter,
I hate New York, and I’m stuck here,
Fall was approaching (and is now here) and Winter is right behind, and I am a Summer Girl. I love the beach and light, and here it is dank and getting darker earlier every day,
The world is tough right now, especially financially, and the pressure is great to support my children. The thought of retirement and relaxation is almost non-existent.
I know. I’m a Debbie Downer, but that is how I’ve been feeling.
Yesterday I went to yoga. Elizabeth, my wonderful teacher, told a story at the beginning of class, as she always does. It was about her belief in astonomy, and a very, very funny and poignant little story about her recent readings for Geminis (which both she and her boyfriend are). It won’t be funny if I tell it here, but it was hysterical when she told it and…
I really laughed.
I was belly laughing, and it felt so good, like a cork had been unplugged from a very old bottle of wine, releasing all of the fruit and complexity and deliciousness out of a dark and trapped space.
Once everyone else had stopped laughing and we were in our first pose of the day, I still felt like laughing, though I was able to restrain myself. But that laughter lasted all day, and when I went to my Book Club last night I laughed again, and often.
It’s raining today, and dank outside. There is no sun streaming into my windows this morning, but I still feel the laughter.
I will find a reason to laugh again today.