A Shiny Thing

“Her laughter was a shiny thing, like pewter flung high in the air.”

-Pat Conroy Beach Music

There are multiple ways to measure health. I can use medical indicators, strength, work capacity or my percentage of body fat. All these factors can paint a picture of my current state of wellness; however, I have discovered there is another indicator that is much less scientific in nature yet closely tied to my overall sense of well-being. Laughter is said to be the best medicine, but what if it is also a symptom? Can it be an indication of a thriving life, stemming from a core of health and wholeness?

I used to think emojis were stupid and swore to never use them, much like I swore off skinny jeans in order to stand in solidarity with squatting women everywhere. Then they created stretchy skinny jeans and I folded. But the emojis I found to be ridiculous. Why did I need faces to act out my feelings? Couldn’t I just say, “Winking at you” or “I’m laughing out loud” (not to be confused with “LOL”-- I will NEVER use that one). Soon, I realized that I really do laugh out loud so often that it is tiresome and cumbersome to constantly type, “I’m laughing so hard tears are rolling down my face.” There is a perfect emoji for that one. I have also decided that emoji is precisely the symbol I need to represent a healthy version of myself.

Photo by Amanda Iannella.

How often do I laugh until I cry? Last week, I actually counted. Sixteen times in one day I either used the emoji or literally laughed until tears pooled at the corner of my eyes. I shed a lot of tears that day. My adult self, while more open to about anything and everything, is also more open to joy and laughter. My younger self spent her days guarded and hyper-concerned with what other people thought about her. She was a prude. She rarely ever threw her head back in laughter. Perhaps she thought too much or was too incredibly busy trying to manage all the things in this life that were beyond her control. While she would probably not even recognize the woman I have become, she would most likely envy this freedom and all the happy tears I shed.

Play is essential to our health. I often promote the idea of people “having fun with their fitness.” As a CrossFit coach, I am known to introduce my classes with a game. There is something so beautiful about watching grown-ups forget about “adulting” for a moment and get lost in a game. They laugh like nobody is watching. Children always do this. They laugh out loud all day long. They get caught up and lost in the moment. Adults can’t be bothered; there is no time. However, I know that when I laugh more, my health thrives because my mental and emotional health are just as vital as my physical health. Stress can damage my well-being as much or more than poor nutrition and lack of exercise or sleep. I need to find light and laughter in order to grow and feel alive.

A coworker recently posted that he missed our laughter. For ten months out of every year our roaring laughter echoes through the hallways of our campus. I work with amazing people who always promote spilling our joy onto everyone around us. We share our work and life together and laugh out loud a lot. I tend to avoid the teacher’s lounge, known to be a breeding ground for negativity and complaints, and migrate towards the spaces where humans find the lighter side of things and let their joy bubble out now and then. I am not sure everyone appreciates the way my co-workers and I live out loud, but it was nice to hear that this coworker, deep in the trenches of summer teaching, missed hearing our boisterous cackling.

When I started teaching almost sixteen years ago (gasp!), I made a vow to myself. If I got to a point where I could no longer laugh in the classroom, I would get out of the business. Fortunately, I am still laughing and have found other hobbies and occupations where I can add even more laughter to my life. My younger self did not have the lines on her face, carved from both happy and sad tears through the years, but her health was already under attack and teetering under the weight of stress and adulthood. Unbecoming involves releasing control and cracking open to let my joy spill out into the world. I must actively seek and create laughter in my home, workspace, and relationships. Laughing out loud has become the soundtrack of a healthier, happier life. May my laughter be a “shiny thing” my kids remember and seek to emulate.

Here are some other ways I find laughter:

• My husband and I make videos and take hilarious pictures, which we force on our best friends. They have come to expect ridiculous tableaus of our humor. We are still not sure if they find us funny, but we sure do crack ourselves up.  
• The kids and I frequently have impromptu dance parties. I dare you to let your guard down and really dance like no one is watching without laughing. I think it will be impossible. Your body will not be able to contain the bliss; it will bubble over in laughter.
• Please always laugh at yourself. I give myself so much material. I am like my own private stand up comedian. Part of living your life in a big way involves making a fool of yourself now and then. I refuse to let others reap all the laughter and benefit of my slip-ups.
• Spend time with kids. Laughter will happen. There is nothing sweeter to my ears than the sounds of my children belly laughing. It is deep-down, rib scraping laughter. It is meant to be shared.
• Surround yourself with people who get it. It’s difficult to laugh if you are constantly around grumpy people. Find those around you who are seeking the light in every situation. Borrow their laughter when you can’t find your own.