"Something special happens when people laugh together over something genuinely funny, and not hurtful to anyone. It's like a magic rain that showers down feelings of comfort, safety, and belonging to a group."--Mary Jane Belfie
It is no secret that I love to laugh. At life's abusrdities, at myself. Laughter, shared with friends and family, is healing. Laughter used as a weapon is not. It shames me to admit that I have laughed at another's misfortune, at another's embarrassment. Why I did that, I'm not sure. Perhaps it was in relief that the cause of the laughter did not happen to me. Perhaps it was because I have a nasty streak that too often rears its ugly head.
I am working on curbing this pernicious habit, working on developing a softer heart, a more compassionate soul. In this, as in so many other things, I remain a work in progress.
This I know for sure: laughter can heal; it can also hurt. How we use it is, in large part, a measure of the people we are.
I think that when I laugh that way, it's my own judgmental nature coming out. Perhaps I see someone's "just desserts" handed out to them without my having to say a thing. Of course, my laughter speaks much louder than my words ever could.
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