Laughing through Life, Laughing at Life
by Cindy Halvorson, MDiv, DMin
Years ago, when our children were young, my husband bought a new-to-us car for our family. We had been driving a two-door vehicle, but with two children we needed a vehicle with more doors. For that matter, we needed more doors when our first child was born – but that’s beside the point. Our new-to-us car was just right – four-doors, fuel efficient, and appropriately priced for our budget. However, there was a problem. My farm-boy husband, who had been driving various kinds of vehicles since he was 10ish, bought a vehicle with a manual transmission – a stick shift! I had no idea how to operate such a thing. I mean, seriously, there was a clutch and shifting gears to consider, complicated by the nuance of letting up the clutch while pushing gently on the gas pedal. Add into the mix, the need to pull away from a stop sign with another car awaiting their turn. The thought of it was enough to increase my heart rate and my body’s temperature. But never fear, my husband said he would teach me how to drive a manual transmission.
My first lesson occurred while we were spending the weekend at my in-laws’ house. What better place to learn the finer skills of driving a stick shift than on the very flat plains of South Dakota. While my stomach churned with anxiety, we loaded our two children into their car seats in the back seat of the four-door car. Getting the children in and out of this vehicle was so much easier than what we had been doing. Certainly, this car was a wise choice for our family. My husband drove to a parking lot and we traded positions. I took a deep breath and gave it a try. Up with the clutch. Down with the gas pedal. Smoothly. Smoothly. Hmmm, not smooth enough. The car jerked. The engine sputtered and then stalled. Start again. Up with the clutch. Down with the gas pedal. Same result. After multiple attempts, I seemed to be getting the hang of it. So, we took to the road. I had successfully started, shifted gears, and then stopped at the stop sign. Another car pulled up behind us. This was the scenario that I had dreaded. With my heart racing, I tried to pull away from the stop sign but to no avail. My anxiety caused me to let the clutch out too quickly. The car lurched to a halt. But now there was another car observing and waiting for me. I tried again. Same result, except this time our conversational tone turned brusque. The volume of instruction heightened and my grip on the steering wheel tightened. I tried again. Lurching, sputtering, stalling. At this point, our three-year-old added his voice, “Wow, mom. You sure are jerking us around a lot.” My husband held his breath as he looked at me. I couldn’t help myself; I started to laugh … and my husband laughed too, easing the tension. Eventually, somehow, we returned to my in-laws’ house, where upon entering, my son announced to his grandparents, “Mom is a jerky driver.”
Life has so many funny moments, especially when we intentionally make the choice to not take ourselves too seriously and to seek out the humor in a situation. Research shows that laughter releases endorphins, carries oxygen throughout the body, and enhances our mood. If you want to see the research, do a google search – there are a vast number of articles on the benefits of laughter and laughing at oneself. While laughter is not fitting for every situation, there are plenty of times it can provide perspective. Many years ago, one of my mentors commented that to help himself find the light-heartedness of some circumstances, he would envision the events taking place within his favorite sit-com. I have utilized this tool and found it to be very helpful … like maybe at a challenging church board meeting? Or when, as the piano accompanist, I couldn’t figure out the timing of a song? (I played the song as if it were written in 4/4 time, instead of the appropriate 3/4 time.) Or, as the leader of Sunday morning worship, I skipped part of the order of service and congregants don’t know whether to sit or stand?
I wonder … is the research accurate when it claims humor and laughter can bolster our health – physically, mentally, and emotionally? My personal experience supports the research. I wonder … what is your experience?
May all our wonderings and wanderings lead us home.
(And yes, I learned to skillfully drive a stick shift.)
