God, laughter is contagious.
I am so that girl who is always laughing. I find humor in everything because, if you really look at this whole Earth experience, it is one big ironic boom.
It’s all irony. It’s all fun and games. We are here playing this wild little game called Earth, and I really believe it is meant to be fun. Joyous. Easy. Happy. Free.
And I love being in spaces where people’s hearts are open enough to receive that.
No hardness. No coldness. No walking around so closed off that nothing can get in or out. Just open hearts giving, receiving, connecting—and laughing.
Because have you ever noticed that when one person really starts laughing, everybody starts laughing?
You don’t even have to know what’s funny.
That might actually be my favorite kind of laughter.
Spirit laughter.
The kind where somebody else is cracking up, and suddenly you’re cracking up. Then somebody across the room starts cracking up, and at some point nobody even remembers what started it.
Your spirit is basically going:
I have absolutely no idea what is happening, but apparently this is good for us.
And it is.
Laughter is medicine. My gosh, it might be the medicine of the ages.
Human beings have always needed humor. Satire. Comedy. Plays. Stories. Irony. Shakespeare was full of it. Humanity has been finding ways to laugh at itself forever, probably because sometimes this whole experience is simply too ridiculous not to laugh.
There is so much in this world to laugh at. So much to laugh with. So much to giggle about. So many tiny things to be easily amused by.
And I LOVE being easily amused.
This whole laughter kick really hit me at the gym.
JP was telling me to do something and said, “Okay, just do a little tap.”
Naturally, my brain immediately went:
“Tap, tap, tap-a-roo!”
You know—Billy Madison.
So I said it, and Eli started laughing. Then I started laughing. Then JP burst out laughing.
And JP goes, “I don’t even know what we’re laughing about.”
Which, of course, made it even funnier.
And I thought: THAT’S IT.
That is spirit laughter.
When your mind doesn’t even know why you’re laughing anymore, but your body does.
Your spirit does.
Something inside of you recognizes:
Ohhhh. This is good for me. Take it. Eat it. Laugh.
Maybe we don’t always need a reason. Maybe laughter itself is the reason.
Maybe sometimes the person laughing beside you is unknowingly handing you a dose of medicine.
Maybe joy travels through sound.
Maybe an open heart recognizes another open heart and says, Oh good, we can play here.
Because laughter breaks things open.
It breaks tension. It breaks awkwardness. It breaks seriousness.
It breaks that illusion that we have to have everything figured out and behave perfectly and understand every single thing happening around us.
Sometimes we can just be humans standing in a gym laughing about absolutely nothing.
And I think there is something incredibly spiritual about that.
We talk so much about healing as though it always has to be serious. Deep conversations. Meditation. Breathwork. Journaling. Shadow work.
And yes, absolutely.
But sometimes healing sounds like:
HAHAHAHAHAHA.
Sometimes medicine is your friend losing it over something stupid.
Sometimes spirituality is a belly laugh.
Sometimes enlightenment might just be realizing that this whole thing is a little bit hilarious.
So laugh loudly. Laugh easily. Be ridiculously amused.
Laugh until somebody else starts laughing who has absolutely no idea what you’re laughing about.
And when they ask what’s so funny?
You can tell them:
“I don’t know. Just take your medicine.”
