Monday, April 15, 2013
What a lark is laughter! What a peal of silver bubbles from the mouth of a cartoon fish.
Remembering my son's first laugh (a monkey-meets-dog sound of delight) makes me want to snort my morning latte. When was the last time I laughed like that?
I laugh socially yip yip yip. Like a prairie dog. If I read something witty I go, haw. I'm known to point to funny signs, like the one I saw yesterday that was trying to say mousse, but said Semi-Freddo Espresso Mouse. But doubled over, helpless, limp in laughter; I love it so much because it happens to me so rarely.
My sister said of a photo of our father (who is always in a Tilly hat) off the coast of Africa, "There's the Hat leaving Gambia" and I felt a crack in the wall of my stoic subdue. Why was that funny? was my immediate reaction. No wonder I don't laugh often. I'm fine combing the sand.
Why ask why? In laugh yoga (a yoga fantastically easier for me than the regular kind) the point is not to tell a good joke or even to get the punchline, but simply to laugh, because it feels good who cares why; and even rats (I remind myself) will nudge the experimenter's hand for more because they want to be tickled again and again even if it is just for research.
Posted by Elizabeth Bastos at 8:56 AM