Key Takeaways
Laughter disrupts the tension of life’s circumstances without distorting reality.
Play broadens our perspective and interrupts perfectionism.
Joy and seriousness are allowed to coexist.
“If necessity is the mother of invention, play is the father.”
- Roger von Oech, A Whack on the Side of the Head: How You Can Be More Creative.
“You can learn more about a person in 1 hour of play, then 1 year of conversation”
- anonymous, falsely attributed to Plato.
Observation
I laugh a lot. In fact, it’s a defining characteristic. I am known amongst friends as the person who laughs at all things—bad puns, good jokes, joyful moments, even the terrible ones. I don’t laugh to trivialize the severity of a moment, but to bring levity into the seriousness of life.
When I met my wife, she was smiling and laughing. I have often said, “it’s as if all of the Earth’s joy is surging through her body.” She has a disarming, slightly crooked smile, welcoming eyes, a face that can light up a room, and together, we laugh constantly. Our home is loud, playful, occasionally inappropriate, and rarely solemn for long. We find humor in trivial things—parenting missteps, our own intensity, and even our deepest hurts. Our children often roll their eyes, but they always join in on the fun. It would be easy to mistake that disposition for avoidance or immaturity, but it’s not.
Some of my most meaningful clinical moments were created through laughter. I remember sitting with a dear friend and client in the middle of her profound existential distress. We had moved through grief, fear, questions about purpose and mortality. At one point she paused, and deadpan said, “life doesn’t have to be so serious.” The laughter followed. That deep, freeing laugh that reminds your Spirit that it’s free. We spent the next several hours laughing about the absurdity of being human.
Nothing about her circumstances changed. But everything inside her shifted. She felt lighter, unburdened, and liberated. Her shoulders relaxed, breathing slowed, and vision expanded. In that moment, by inviting in laughter, her life, her perspective, and her vision changed.
That moment—and specifically—that sentence has stayed with me ever since.
Revelation
There is a difference between denial and disruption. Denial distorts reality; laughter interrupts our identification with it.
When we laugh, the body responds—blood vessels dilate, muscles relax, endorphins release, cortisol lowers, social bonds strengthen. Large longitudinal studies have shown that people who laugh regularly have lower rates of cardiovascular disease and all-cause mortality than those who rarely laugh.
The research validates what I think we all naturally know. Laughter is good medicine. It frees us from the shackles of our perspective, loosens the grip of perfectionism, and unlocks the prison of reputation management. It allows us to see ourselves not as projects to perfect, but as humans participating in something messy and alive.
I often laugh at serious moments, not to trivialize them, but to stay grounded within them. Laughter reminds me that I am not the center of the universe, nor the sole architect of outcomes. It’s the permission that leads us out of catastrophizing, disrupting our vicious cycles before they distort our reality and skew the perspective of our circumstances.
The ancient wisdom of the Old Testament acknowledges this eternal truth, “A cheerful heart is good medicine” (Proverbs 17:22). The New Testament reminds us to “count it all joy” when facing any trial (James 1:2)—not because suffering is amusing, but because endurance forms something deeper within us…resilience.
Meaning
Laughter is play expressed and shared. It’s infectious in the air, spreading faster and further than the cleverest microbe. There is nothing childish about it. In developmental psychology and evolutionary biology alike, play strengthens flexibility, adaptability, and survivability. It is rigidity that causes stress, strain, and fracturing.
Seriousness can quietly harden into self-importance. We begin to believe every misstep is catastrophic, every awkward moment defining, every failure permanent. But laughter breaks that spell.
It allows us to laugh at ourselves instead of worshiping our image. It invites silliness, which keeps us grounded and humble. It creates relational warmth, signaling “everything about this moment is okay.”
As a family culture, we lean into this. We tease kindly, we exaggerate our flaws, and we celebrate ridiculousness. It does not diminish maturity or responsibility but rather humanizes it.
Joy and suffering do not have to be opposites or antidotes. They can sit at the same table because laughter does not betray truth, it helps us bear it.
What to Carry Forward
You are allowed to laugh in serious times.
Levity is a practice, a right, and a responsibility.
Play keeps the heart young, nimble, and adaptable.
Reflection Question
Where can laughter soften tension without losing sight of what matters?