Learning to laugh again

I don’t routinely spend my evenings sitting in a Southend pub wearing a red wig and devil horns but then again

I don’t routinely do therapy or self-help groups either.

Yet there I was attending a laughter workshop in a bid to inject a bit of humour into my suddenly uncertain and somewhat chaotic life.

I’d been going through some serious upheaval in my personal life and I desperately need something to lighten the mood. So I enlisted the help of laughter therapist Angela Day and agreed to join her for an evening of

one-to-one counselling followed by a group laughter session.

A week before my appointment, Angela phoned and set me some homework. I was to undertake a life audit and she told me to think about all the things that make me happy. Specifically, Angela wanted me to go into each room in my house and have a look for things that brought me joy.

She also wanted me to keep a laughter diary and to record every moment of happiness I experienced over a two-day period and then sit quietly, read it back and reflect on my findings. Angela stressed that in the process I might realise that I hadn’t laughed until I cried for a very long time.

I don’t know if I was simply too familiar with most of my household possessions but as I wandered from room to room, I struggled to raise a single jolt of joy. So instead I took photos of random objects that made me laugh.

On the day of my one-to-one session, I showed the pictures to Angela and found myself smiling as I relayed the history of each item. First I told her the story behind an enormous toy dog that sits in my hallway. On the day I bought it an elderly gentleman on a train had thought it was real and to spare his embarrassment I had gaily indulged him.

Next, I regaled Angela with a picture of Stephen Fry painted by my brother and a stuffed squirrel that had once been in the opening credits of a television antiques show.

As I talked more about the objects, I could feel myself experiencing a real sense of pleasure. I was laughing a lot as

I spoke and felt relaxed and confident. I was totally at ease and without thinking, I suddenly stopped talking about the photos and started pouring my heart out.

Angela sat quietly and let me talk before gently reminding me that it is fine not to be laughing all the time. However, she added that sometimes laughter can give us power over a distressing situation and help to diffuse awkward situations.

She asked me to think of a way to bring some more joy into my life and how I could find a way to deal with my current unhappiness through laughter. Between us we decided that I would have 15 minutes every day where I endeavoured to seek pleasure from something no matter what else was going on.

It could, she said, be as simple as preparing myself an indulgent lunch, spending time looking at photos or listening to music that had a positive effect on my mood.

I chose the music option, though confessed that I was generally a fan of maudlin sounds. Angela laughed and said it didn’t matter; if it made me happy or at least pleased me to be listening to it then there was no wrong approach.

After my invaluable one-to-one we moved on to the group session where we were joined by three other women and a man. Angela unpacked lots of props and encouraged us to play with them. There were wigs, masks, soft toys and funny books, items with amusing sayings or pictures on and a piece of potpourri on a stick, which she explained just made her laugh.

We introduced ourselves and the props were a real ice-breaker. I put on a red wig with devil horns and immediately got the giggles and began chatting to the person next to me. It was difficult to feel uncomfortable or shy when everyone was sitting around with multi-coloured hair and woolly dreadlocks.

Angela gently steered the conversation and we talked about what things made us feel happy and safe in our lives and why they made us feel that way. The general consensus was that our homes provided us with the most laughter and contentment along with being surrounded by things that were important and precious to us.

We took turns to tell jokes, something I’d been fretting about before, worried that my slapstick sense of humour might not appeal to everyone else. I needn’t have worried; the combination of the wigs, the props and the easygoing nature of the group meant we were getting giggly before the jokes even started coming.

And with the laughter came relaxation; I felt completely at home and comfortable with the setting. Through all our chortles, snorts and chuckles we had wound down, de-stressed and bonded.

None of it felt forced or as if we’d been in therapy because Angela’s gentle questioning combined with her buoyant humour – both in the one-to-one session and in the group situation – merely guided us towards a happiness that came, presumably, out of a feeling of safety and security.

I didn’t leave the session feeling that all my problems were solved but I definitely left with a spring in my step and a smile on my face. And now I know I have the ability to find humour in even the darkest of times.

l Angela Day offers courses in laughter therapy, health, personal and business coaching.

Contact angela.day.contact@googlemail.com