I’ve been here before. I know how silly this is going to make me feel, and it’s already outside my comfort zone. So what is this TV camera doing here?
My sister, Susie, is a certified Laughter Yoga instructor. Sure, I attend yoga sessions fairly regularly, but what’s this about laughing? And how could it possibly have anything to do with yoga? When she invited me to one of her classes last year, I just had to go. To find out what it’s all about.
Standing in a circle of adults in the basement of her church, I prepared myself to feel foolish. Susie and her co-teacher, Jessica, had already prepared us for that. “The body doesn’t know the difference between real laughter and fake laughter,” they said. “It has the same beneficial effects on the body.” Apparently I was going to fake it through this class.
To start, they laid down the guidelines. Among them, no talking. (Except for the instructors, of course.) So in order to introduce ourselves to our fellow participants, we were to turn to each one, stretch out a hand, shake theirs and, well, laugh. Okay, this seemed pretty weird. But there was no point in being there if I wasn’t going to buy into it, so I did as I was told. And laughed. Then laughed again. As long as everyone was doing it, it really wasn’t so bad. It almost began to feel real.
The class progressed, full of good sports willing to play along, follow instructions, and laugh. We worked our way through warm-ups, laughing, breathing, laughing, chants, laughing, singing, laughing, cheers and laughing. And it felt good.
So when she invited me back again, I took the bait. Only I wasn’t counting on that TV camera. I begin to get the picture when he interviews Susie and Jessica before class starts. I can hear them touting the health benefits of laughing. The mental boost it provides. The origin of Laughter Yoga in India in the 1990s, and its founder Dr. Madan Kataria.
Once we gather in our circle, I try to screen out that cameraman. I do my best to ignore him moving around behind us, capturing our silliness from all angles. Blot out thoughts of who might see this on tonight’s evening news.
“Children laugh an average of 400 times a day,” Jessica tells us. “For adults, it’s 4-7 times daily.” I believe it. I know my day often lacks levity. The wrinkles around my mouth turn down, not up. I think I need this laughter injection. Soon I’m shaking hands with my fellow students once again, and laughing.
As we work our way through the progression this time, I finally get the yoga bit. It’s all in the breathing, the foundation of yoga. It’s not about poses, it’s about filling our lungs with good air, expelling the old. Feeding the body with oxygen. Finding positive energy.
As before, I draw my cues from my fellow participants. We’re all in this together. If they’re willing to do this, so am I. Studiously ignoring that camera, I focus on them instead. Look into their eyes and find joy in their laughter. As their laughs escalate, so do mine. We feed off one another.
Our final exercise brings us onto the floor. Atop a colorful Indian-looking tapestry with concentric circles, we form our own circle. Heads in the middle, legs spreading out like spokes, we rest on our backs. Then laugh. Tentatively at first, then gaining momentum. I hear others laughing, and they spur me on. I hear Susie across the circle from me, her infectious laugh triggering mine. Memories of her childhood laughter, our innocent youth, her happy giggles. Me, the serious one, she the jokester. I let go and a belly laugh ripples through my body. Later I overhear Susie telling someone, “I was laughing, and then I could hear Molly, my sister, laughing across from me!”
This goes on for many long minutes. Just as I think I’ve laughed my last, someone else starts up again and the cycle repeats. By this time it all feels like the real thing. I’m literally quite worn out by the time Jessica moves us on to the final relaxation phase.
I don’t know these people who have shared this Laughter Yoga hour with me, but we all embrace before parting. And yes, laugh. At ourselves, at our newfound positive outlook, at life in general.
And sure enough, we’re all on the Fox21 evening news. I’m proud of Susie, as I watch her speak eloquently in front of the camera, and lead our troupe through the paces. I cringe only a little when I see myself. But more importantly, I just may have reached my childhood 400 laughs that afternoon. And indeed, it was good medicine.