the laugh of loving forgiveness

As the years of my life pile up on top of each other I find that some skills I have desired have become mine to wrestle with, while others I perhaps took for granted have become elusive. By means of example; after many years of cooking for my family the simple process of making rice that didn’t burn or stick to itself was beyond me until recently. Skill acquired. What has been missing from my life is a state of lightheartedness. I laugh, but there is very little joy in it. I see humor but, the wild abandon of laughing til my guts ache with tears streaming down my face took a vacation and has yet to return. I hold on to hope, and in that way leave a light on for my mirth to find it’s way home.

Is it just the passing of time that robs us of joy? or is there a choice we make to become so tangled with the serious matters of our adult life that we forget the simple pleasure of laughing for the sake of the joy it brings, risking absurdity, suspending disbelief for a moment to catch our breath. In a meeting yesterday someone commented about somnambulism which brought another woman close to tears with laughter. The general attitude toward this? Impatience. There was no joke, why would sleepwalking be so funny? Instead of enjoying the laughter as an opportunity to lighten the mood most crossed their arms, in the defensive stance of being in the presence of something offensive. How did we get so caught up in our seriousness? To be honest, watching this unfold, I felt a pang for my joy that is still out wandering.

For many years now I have relentlessly kept my true joy at bay, by numbing my pain. Five months after my mom died, around the time of her birthday (the first passing of that date without her life to celebrate) a dam wall broke in my heart. There was nothing outside of being in a coma that could stop me experiencing the full force of the pain that I had been holding at arms length. I was crushed. Overwhelmed. Dumped. Broken yet, inside all that pain, there was a trickle of the laughter that had been mine mingled with the warmth of the loving support of my children and new husband. These things I had held at bay with the same arm and hand that held away the unavoidable pain of being alive.

Today I’m thinking about what it would take to forgive life for being at the same time so impossibly beautiful, and so awesomely painful. How do I find balance between these two extremes, without sacrificing one for fear of the other again???

Please share your thoughts and experience on this subject with me in the comments section below – Thank you –

Love always.


7 thoughts on “the laugh of loving forgiveness

  1. Tony french says:

    You write beautifully cuz. It’s definitely a skill you’ve acquired!

  2. Claire says:

    what I have learnt with my skid mark of time on this planet is that you must always be replaceing each feeling with next one. Embrace the hurt and then like a six year old who has scratched there knee falling off there bike and just got a sweetie to smile then laugh and learn to tell a great story about the pain…..then scrape your knee again. The joy will come again and so will the pain!

  3. ally says:

    I think it important to feel each emotion to the fullest. Life experience begins to hang the veils of regret, insecurities, self-doubt, business, importance, priorities…and then we forget to stop and smell the roses. We go from one thing to another on auto pilot, flit from one thing to the next, and collapse in bed at the end of the day, making way for the new dawn we are to face.
    The dark veil of disappointment, tempers the spirit of youth with anger, bitterness, gloom. And then we forget to smell the roses. We can’t smell them any more.
    It’s all about balance, and really making an effort to find the roses. x

  4. Shelley says:

    I’m thinking about this, as we tend to do. Some of us do this too much, think that is. Although it’s the skill that helps us make sense of the sensless and see things that others may take for granted, it is also what can weigh us down, hide that true simple joy. Recently I took a drive and walk with a friend and her dogs. No plans, just being spontaneous. It wasn’t all day that we laughed, but we sure did laugh. Just forgetting that the next day had work in store, or washing was needing to be done at home ect. Just letting go and enjoying the freedom of her dogs, aswell as observing the way she walked down stairs, with her hands held half way up to maintain balance. I made a joke of her way of walking, called her princess prissy pants! She found it funny and as I laughed, I laughed so hard I let wind go?! Normally embarassing, instead resulted in laughter that made our sides hurt! I enjoyed that walk, the freedom. Letting go for a while of all I normally think about. So maybe sometimes we just need to be distracted with simplicity? Xx

  5. ernst says:


  6. narochelle says:

    The feeling of loss is overwhelming; and as one feels but only enough to carry on with the next day. And you fight to survive, you were strong and you slowly eased your mother into another world. That is brave and courageous. U put your pain aside to love beyond pain, to grow beyond self. Still that does not mean that you did not feel the full extent of that pain. Pain sometimes breaths over us like waves, and then our entire bodies become the sand…
    When I was 8 my gran was dying of cancer, and she was in Hospice. I went to visit her every single day. I did not mind the smell, or the way she looked. I touched her, brushed her hair, painted her toe nails, kissed her and fell asleep next to her. Never did I feel that death threatened her. Never did I feel fear. One day she asked me to walk over to the other side of the ward, there was an old lady there with some sort of stomach cancer. My gran had asked me to do something to make her ‘feel better’. So I hesitantly walked over there and then I instinctively lifted the blanket and rubbed the woman’s stomach, the woman started crying, in surprise and fear I looked back at my gran. She calmly smiled and nodded. So I took the woman’s hand and continued making circles on the mountain top that was her belly. My gran died the next day and exactly the time of death I bawled my eyes out over my cereal bowl at home. I am 22 years old now and I will never forget that day, that sort of compassion and love is Divine. That is the love and compassion that you gave your mother. When u opened up and surrendered to the Love the way you did, you also opened up to share your mother’s pain, you might have already shared that bond with her your whole life..
    Well in the short time I have been on this planet I have notices that like seasons we have times to blossom and sprout our joy and other times are for our leaves to fall. The balance I don’t know, the beauty always present and what you learn will reflect in your music, your art. The leaves that fall, you will use as soil for the blossoms of creations.. And one day…your wave will strike the right tide of the moon and the goddess that u are will go AHA.!

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