Sincerely Silly

A Goofing-Around Gateway

dear creators,

When’s the last time you let out a genuine, spontaneous all-out guffaw? Or maybe like a sudden surprising burst of giggles? Were any of your recent hoots, howls or cackles directed at yourself?

Lately, my students and I have been gettin’ caught in the snare of seriousness—I mean the kind where we take ourselves too seriously. You know, like when we have a dilemma or two and our egos get obsessed with the issue and then the inflated thoughts start ramping up; our minds are flingin’ all kinds of worst case scenarios— we just keep gettin’ more and more upset…And then we wonder why we’ve got a haggard perma-bitchy-cat look on our faces.

When this gets bad, my mind becomes a courtroom where I’m conjuring all kinds of killer arguments that no defendant (and everyone is a defendant) has any chance against. But really, I’m the one who’s on defence—all-the-damn-time. It’s a real bummer.

The first time I became ultra aware of my susceptibility to this was during a first-year metals/jewelry class at AUArts. My overall attitude at that time was driven to excel and to prove something— like, I was gonna work my ass off and suffer my way to success like a good person.

On one particular day of fussy and painstaking metal work, I had gone through numerous jewellers saws— these are teeny-tiny fragile strips of metal that make a condemning -ping- sound when you break them. It was my own fault for choosing overly ambitious and tedious work and then I got myself worked up in that intense C’MON! space.

At some point my professor took me aside and told me she thought it would be good for me to maybe spend some time in nature and goof around. What does goofing around in nature look like? You tell me! Actually, her just saying this was a bit of a cymbal clash moment for me and I ended up doodling this:

(notice how I unintentionally put all the detail in the head)

I can’t remember if I tried goofing around out in nature, specifically, but my perspective shifted and I was totally able to laugh at my own spellbound uptightness. Everything became much easier and more enjoyable after that.

Why do we need to laugh at ourselves, anyway? I’ve listened to Alan Watts answer this in a lecture or two. He said that the highest level of humour is to laugh at oneself because of the infallibility and finitude of our nature. When we’re taking ourselves too seriously, we’re doing our best to stay clear of the shame and guilt that comes with being wrong or feeling less than we think we’re supposed to be.

Basically, we’re brought up to behave correctly outwardly but also to behave correctly inwardly— in other words, to imagine that we can be without wayward, evil, or even just wandering thoughts, ideas and emotions. And that we’re supposed to keep our minds swept clean of these “funny oddities.”[…]

“And then you struggle and struggle all your life long to disown and be afraid of these purely spontaneous and strange creatures that arise in yourself like goblins from the abyss untrod.”

How does humour apply to this? Watts pointed out that it’s because there’s a big difference between what goes on the inside and what goes on the outside. If we hint that what’s going on outside is the opposite of what’s going on inside, we laugh— if it’s not done unkindly (there’s nothing self-deprecating about it).

When we laugh at ourselves, we’re admitting and acknowledging our disowned aspects. We’re basically pointing out the ridiculous and incongruences of our situation. It takes an exhausting amount of energy to keep the lid on our rejected self, so laughing about it is a way to be set free. Does anyone else experience this as a kind of superpower?

Susan Griffin shared the following story she heard about holocaust survivor and surrealist poet Robert Desnos (I’m paraphrasing it): Desnos had been taken from concentration camp barracks and loaded onto a truck with many other prisoners—headed for the gas chambers.

When the truck arrived at its destination, the mood was obviously grim and everyone was silent. But the silence was totally interrupted by Robert Desnos, who suddenly started energetically reading the palm of one of his fellow prisoners.

Oh wow, he said, I see you have a very long lifeline and that you’re going to have three children. His enthusiasm was super contagious and the other prisoners offered up their hands to hear about their longevity, future children and abundant joy.

As Desnos goofed around and read more palms, not only did the mood of the prisoners change but also the moods of the guards. It’s probably impossible to explain why (and we can only speculate) but the guards were unable to follow through with the execution of any of those prisoners.

Like, what does it take to be able to joke around when you’re facing gas chambers?!

Taking ourselves too seriously is right there with trying too hard and expecting too much from life. It’s hard to be in the flow when we’re squeezing the life out of everything. The qualities of seriousness can be cold, calculating, controlling, straight, stiff— though they have a place, are these the features we associate with a vibrant human spirit?

My strongest work— that is to say, the work I have the best time making— comes out of sincerely goofing-around. Whenever I’m doin’ my best while realizing anything I’m doing is just a game, I’m in direct contact with the most expansive possibility. I feel the most calm, clear and stable while being the most flexible. It only happens when I don’t care—meaning, I’m not expecting anything in particular nor am I rejecting any of the results.

It makes me think that I wanna be so strong that I can laugh at anything.

Big grin,

~Corrie