Loss of Laughter

minions laughing

The holidays are upon us. This is the time of the year that brings up all sorts of emotions to many. The winter weather (unless you live in Florida) seems to add to the struggle of disconnecting from others and the self. A dear friend of mine is a writer, a healer and a teacher. She is also creating classes and helping others move through worth issues and breaking old-thought programming. While having a discussion with her via email she sends me some of her questions and thought-provoking exercises. She ends an email with “I have this HUGE sense of loss.”

I am always amazed at how things come up when you are working on the self…you grab a hold of something over here and then another thing pops up over there. This thing of being human is tough and we make it even tougher when we don’t acknowledge the issues that come up. I ask her where the loss comes from, is it this or that? I send her several questions and she writes back:

Loss of never knowing how to laugh…Not sure…Definitely will explore. Someone who just finished her PhD asked on Facebook what people did for fun because she had forgot how…  I don’t know that I ever knew. Grew up in the country as an only child. By 6th or 7th grade I started planning my escape so that I could create my “perfect” little family… And I guess it was but not what I thought it would be… definitely not Ozzie and Harriet… but through all the planning and making things happen there was no time for fun and when there was an opportunity… it was awkward.”

We weren’t taught to laugh in many families. There was a sense of compliance, responsibilities, and duty. Laughing wasn’t part of the dynamic. I spent a lifetime thinking that laughter was a sin…that was not accepted because of duties. When I turned 40 I said, “The hell to all this crap. I am going to enjoy my life.” I made drastic changes. I went overboard deleting and creating a different course and life path. Some of my children resisted. Some went with the flow while feeling resentful that I removed them from a privilege life. There was money. Then there wasn’t. There was comfort and safety and definitely abundance of all types. Materialism was all around us. And then there wasn’t. For them laughter was always available. They laughed all the time…they didn’t feel or see the sadness in their mother. Now years later they all see it. The difference in a life is not measured by things but by the joy in simplicity. I learned to laugh and enjoy without guilt. My children were taught to play and laugh and continue playing throughout life. They are seeing it now in me like they never did in their childhood. I had a huge sense of loss and emptiness. I couldn’t figure out what I needed when I had so much.

To read these words from my dear wise friend I was transported back to a time that I can’t relate to at this moment in my life. Laughter is the best medicine. It raises our vibration and spiritual frequencies. Back then I wasn’t authentic to my spirit. I was fearful of others and what they thought of me. And now I see that there is a huge sense of loss from a lot of folks. I see the subject in emails and messages. It’s across the world from here to Norway, Mexico to Australia, France to India and then some. I read the words and feel the sadness and the sense of not knowing how to bring joy into their lives. I feel the pull of many who want answers and an easy solution. I cannot tell anyone what they need to do. All I can say is “You know the answers. Meditate and ask you higher self for guidance.”

We have been taught to be responsible, go after what we want, serve our families, study, work hard, etc. But, we aren’t taught to play. Watch a child playing and it’s a marvelous feeling of joy. They don’t worry about anything else. They are wholeheartedly focused on whatever they are doing. They don’t care how silly they look. When did we lose sight of play and laughter? At what age did we stop pretending and imagining? What happens to the soul when we shift our true awareness into the programming form of social experiment driving us into fear and anxiety? I don’t have any answers. I haven’t a real solution except to fake it until you make it. I have spent the last 7 years playing in the dirt, wearing tutus with boots in public, fishing for heart-shaped rocks in rivers, having colorful fairy hair, taking wrong turns exploring back roads, leaving loving messages on windshields, leaving funny messages inside books at stores, and truly giggling at the simple things in life. I have laughed with strangers, hugged more, and felt like a little kid tickled pink when someone notices my toes all have different colors. I don’t know how to show anyone else how to laugh but I can surely play. I can now be silly without worrying about what others think. I don’t care cause they are not me!

I believe we need to take more time for play and express joy through creativity. Something has to be put into place as part of the everyday list of things to do. Write it …follow through with it. Honor your spirit with joy. If you can’t figure out how to do something…well, Google it! Research it! Pinterest it! Treat laughter and play as you would a new job. And as your last resort come play with me on a sunny day. We can go to a Goodwill and try on ridiculous clothes and hats….oh…wanna laugh? It’s belly busting time! Create your own magical moments. The world is truly your playground so stop making it so hard to do something that’s naturally implemented into our DNA.  You got this.  EnJOY these holidays while seeing the magic of wonder. It’s not fun being an adult if you can’t also play like a child. 

The Hardest Job in the World

kidsOf all the jobs I’ve had in this lifetime the most difficult one (by far) has been motherhood.  I have worn many hats throughout the years from kissing booboo’s to holding the hand of a little one while in a hospital bed.  My children have challenged by intelligence, freedom, choices, and perceptions a million times over.  They have taught me how to be compassionate when I’ve wanted to snap.  They have taught me patience when I wanted to fix things immediately.  They have taught me to pick battles from one moment to the next.  Indeed, the most challenging job in the world is parenthood.  The FBI has nothing on motherhood.  It is M.B.I. (Mother Bureau of Investigation) and it requires being on-call 24/7.

I love hearing from other parents who have small rambunctious children.  They make the comments, “Thank God it gets easier as they get older.”  I laugh.  I used to think like that as well.  It DOES NOT get easier.  It gets productively more challenging with every passing year.  The more intelligence and scheming they acquire the more you are being pushed to test your parental skills.  Some days my IQ drops several points.  Other times I feel like Albert Einstein.

The hardest task as a mother is letting go while standing your ground.  Boundaries are never easy.  Kids will test, pull and push them to no avail.  One day I am the best mom in the world.  The next, I am the worst parent out there.  It comes with the territory.  I’m not here to be liked.  I am here to support, love, and have a safe haven for them to return when the world comes down on them.  They don’t need another BFF.  They need a parent to hold their hand when they hurt.  They need a shoulder to cry and be heard.  As I say around here, “You need a shower and a good meal.  Everything’s gonna be alright.”  I am here for the long haul with a great bathroom and a home-cooked meal.

Children are a breed of their own.  I believe that around twelve years of age (especially boys) a spaceship comes in the middle of the night, swaps your child with an alien and you don’t see him until around eighteen.  I can recall with most of my kids when they turned seventeen or eighteen standing in the middle of a conversation and saying, “Ahhhh, you are back, my child!  I’ve missed you so much.”  Just like that they return to being pretty normal.  They begin to hug and kiss and converse with you like no time has passed.

I woke today with heaviness about being a good mother.  This week has started out rather challenging.  It’s okay.  I get the ups and downs of this job.  I understand the rejections, avoidance, blame game, and so on.  I comprehend the state of hormonal imbalance passing through a teenager.  I also get that “mom’s not always right!”  What do I know?  I am living on top of a mountain escaping from the real world.  I also know that I shut down and don’t speak for days when I feel judged or ridiculed by my children.  The pain is never easy.  This is part of investing time in making sure they are safe.   It only takes a laugh to get me back to normal.  I just require some time to let ego take a backseat to the stupidity of an event.  I am always questioning my sanity, but I’m still here.

With each passing year (and child) I am learning that love is beyond reason.  It is a boomerang that returns time and time again when they need it.  Ultimately, I am their mother.  They might not like my rules or my opinions but they all know I am here for them.  They also know I give them the space needed to experience life through their own eyes.  I don’t have all the answers.  I only have one for sure:  I love them more than anything in the world.  They might not like me from time to time but unconditional love has passed on to them.  Witnessing the way they love others is the best return on this investment I could have ever imagined.  This makes motherhood priceless!