Dear TruthGirls . . .
I don't claim any form of profound wisdom here, but what you suggest makes perfect sense. The antithesis of the laughter regimen you describe, that is, a mind set crushed into a perpetually antagonistic state of mind, does invoke specific neural chemistries, cortisol perhaps being the most extreme, which correlates directly with negative influences on thought and state of mind.
Reaching for pharmaceuticals, like the SSRI drugs, actually leads to far worse states of being, darkened by anxiety.
By extreme contrast, laughter instigates the exact opposite neurochemistry mechanism, including the release of endorphine and other related neurochemistries. Dr Bruce Lipton has researched this phenomena very extensively, articulated in his book"the Biology of Belief"
You seem to navigating you perceived existence in a nurturing way . . .
nibbles for thought . . .
ha ha funny enough when I was 15 my friends and I had a laughing club. We met once a week after school, sat on the lawn and had something to eat and drink and then one of us would start a fake laugh. Soon we were all splitting ourselves and crying on the back lawn - we loved it and just did it for fun - there you go!!!!
These are terrific - and great humor if your a kiwi. Love it RC - thanks for the DOOM BREAK!
Funnily enuff Fiona if u excuse the pun, in that very time frame of Not laughing, for some or most likely Same reasons I was unable to pick up my paint brushes and paint apart from one little painting I did for a telecom art award comp and it made the finals but did not win and that particular painting was Not my usual style Nor did I consider it to even be 'Me' but it was the one and only time I made the finals which kinda felt depressing as no one seemed interested in the 'real me' only what some would consider 'in vogue at the time'. A work pal asked if I was still painting a few months after that and was shocked when I said, 'No, I just can't get in the mood' and she replied, 'well you'd better get in the mood quick as I want you to paint me something special for my mum's 60th next year' so I did and she paid me well for it even tho her and I both were on the shittiest low wages in the place.
From Oakland, Cali.
Raising 3 traumatized kids, nieces, with my own 3 kids was... well, traumatizing. I'm a serious, nurturing person. Nice even. Seriously messed me up riding herd on this brood. I quit laughing, grieving my inadequacy. Then, one day, someone brought a three page printout of "bar jokes" to work and I took a look. I became almost hysterical. Had to hide those pages so I wouldn't even see them, else I'd break out in laughter. It was healing. I now have over 50 pages of jokes in my computer and occasionally print them out to share.
Here's one of my favorites: "What does an insomniac, dyslexic agnostic do? Stays awake all night, wondering if there really is a dog."