Tragedy plus time equals comedy. It’s as much a law of nature as the law of gravity or E=mc2. The farther you travel from a hurricane, the less you feel its power. But once you are free of it’s ire, you can look back and laugh, pondering the near-death experience you had while in its eye, and it’s a healing moment when you do. Comedy is the nectar of life; the elixir and the fixer; it’s a great equalizer. If you can laugh at your troubles, they will weigh upon you less and less. I like to think of it as aerobics for the soul.
I had to be able to see to the absurdity of my marriage before I could even admit how much pain it was causing me. And the more I looked, the funnier it got; ultimately, that was what saved me and I made it through my divorce one laugh at a time. Forget about one day at a time; just keep the jokes rolling, I told myself, and you’ll get through it.
Before long, I had enough material to take my act on the road. Literally. I packed up what was left of my sanity and my self-respect and off I went, traveling as far away from my husband as I could get, without losing myself in the process. And once he was out of my life, I continued to try to see the humor in every situation; even the ones that really pissed me off. I had to – the alternative was way too bleak for me to contemplate.
Everything is funny eventually but most of the time it takes longer than you think it will for those old wounds to heal. But trust me, they do. And in the meantime, ask yourself: what is funny about this? And when you find the thing that is, be sure to share it, because it’s a hell of a lot more fun when you have a crowd laughing along with you. I once heard about a man who cured himself of depression by locking himself in a room for a week with funny movies and laughing himself back to mental health. And I’ve always held that picture in my mind as something to strive for. Go for the laughs, go for the gusto and perhaps you won’t feel like going for the jugular anymore; at least not your own.