some kind of comedian?” “You think that’s funny? I’ll show you
what’s funny!” (This was my personal favorite, because they never
did show me what was funny.)
Again and again we were taught that laughter was a frivolous
thing and that responsible people were serious. Not wanting to be
considered irresponsible, we suppressed our humor, relegating it to
the realm of recreation and entertainment, appropriate only when
all our responsibilities had been m et. Consequently, the average 35
year-old now laughs only 15 times a day.
Reserving your hum or nature solely for entertainment
purposes is like owning a Mercedes automobile and only driving it
to the corner grocery once a week. It could take you so much further.
Besides, as it turns out, we have been denying ourselves the full
benefit of this marvelous resource based on erroneous information.
It appears that seriousness is not at all our most responsible posture.
When we are serious, we are not more creative, resilient or healthy;
nor are we better communicators. We are all those things and more
when we lighten up and take ourselves less seriously. Behavioral
research shows us that our seriousness has been holding us back.
Here’s an example of what we’ve been missing: About six
and a half years ago our family was in a painful crisis. Our daughter
had lost her first baby, which was our first grandchild. Six months
later, our daughter-in-law, who was also pregnant, went into labor
prematurely and delivered an underdeveloped baby who was not
breathing.
Little Jordan Kuhn was fighting for his life in the “Premie
ICU”, while we were struggling with the fear, rage and pain of a
possible second heartbreak in less than a year. You can imagine how
much tension we had that first morning when my wife Connie and
I were allowed to visit Jordan in the ICU. The tension was made
only worse by the presence of all the technology—the blinking lights,
the electronic alarms, those huge machines supporting such tiny,
frail bodies. It was a daunting moment.
At that moment in our lives we did not know what I can
now tell you. Later this year our family will gather to celebrate
Jordan’s seventh birthday. He’s a healthy, robust little boy who is
currently the star of his soccer team (at least his grandfather thinks
so). But we had no assurance of these things on that morning. We
were, to say the least, uptight.
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