Don't take yourself so seriously!

When my daughters were younger we used to love to indulge in 'laughing meditation' together. We'd sit where ever we were, take a deep breath and, if safe to do so, close our eyes and begin to laugh. From the belly. Big round ovals and circles and balloons of laughter erupting up in a burbling stream of good feelings.

At first, the laugh notes would appear soft and tentative. Kind of shy. They'd sneak their way to the top of your throat, slide hesitantly over your tongue and slip out of your mouth with an inquisitive note stuck to their sides. "Is it okay to be here? Am I alright?"

In a breath of goodwill, you'd let the note go. Let it dance a little jig on the fresh air of its release and then, bring up another one. The next one would be stronger. More assertive. More present. Though, sometimes it might take three or four notes filled with laughter before you got the rhythm. Got into the stride of laughing just for the sake of laughing. Of letting 'er rip, just because.

Eventually, immersed in the pure joy of letting laughter out, you'd be holding your sides, tilted over slightly to the left, or right, laughing so hard tears streamed from your eyes.

That's laughter. And sometimes, we just don't get enough of it.

My daughters didn't like to keep their laughter in -- isn't that wonderful about children? They're not stingy with laughter, nor love. For the girls, laughter meditation was something to share. Their friends would come over, or I'd be driving with their friends in the car and they'd pipe up from the back seat, "Mummy. Do the laughing stuff!"

And we'd start to laugh.

It came pretty naturally to me back then. The laughter. The laughing just for the sake of it. Just for the pure exhilaration of feeling joy rising within me.

Recently, while coaching at Choices, after the trainees had left the room and we coaches were assembled for a quick debrief, I had to lead a group exercise. I invited the team to sit on the floor, and start to laugh. At first, there was a stunned incredulity. Now? Right now? What's the joke? It's 11 pm. You want to laugh? Here? Like this?

Just start from where you are, I told them. Just give one hoot. One burst. And then another. Just let it happen. Don't think about it. Close your eyes if you want. Reach deep. Reach into your soul and let its natural gift for joy be released. I was doing it to remind them -- don't take yourself so seriously.

It had been a long day. A day of many tears. Much joy. Much soul-spirited rising up of hearts breaking open. And in that day, every coach, especially the 'newbies', felt moments of tension where they wondered, "Did I do it right?" "Why didn't I... " "I should have..." That second guessing that comes when we are treading lightly amongst open hearts and searching souls.

I wanted to remind each person of the gift of laughter and its power to release; tension, fear, self-centered criticism. I wanted to remind them to 'lighten up'.

I was really doing it for me. Doing it to remind myself of my lightness of being. Because, I've been taking myself so seriously lately I seem to have forgotten the relevance and importance to just "Have Fun!".

Life is a joyful journey. And sometimes, okay read that 'often', I invest too much in those dark moments where I forget to be light and end up taking myself too seriously. In those moments, when the thought of fun awakens the beast of self-doubt, or criticism or just plain old resistance, laughter is my best defence and offence. Laughter is the best medicine to keep me from falling into the belief, darkness is all around.

That this pain, this sorrow, this loss is not forever, just as now is not forever.

Now is... not forever.

Laughter is... a gift. A rainbow infused moment sparkling in the sunlight breaking through my tears.

Laughter is the shortest path back to the light.

Laughter is at the heart of my being. Laughter is the heart of my journey. And when I fill each moment with my painters brush dipped in all the colours of the rainbow, laughter is a primary colour illuminating my way back to the lightness of being me.

The question is: When is the last time you gave yourself the gift of laughter just for the pure joy of it?