Laughter as medicine

Humour is a Highly Sensitive Person's best friend.

Welcome to my weekly newsletter building a supportive community for Highly Sensitive People (HSPs).

As I thought about writing this week’s edition of The HSP Revolution, I felt a twinge of uncertainty. With so many people touched by the depth of grief at work in the collective, as well as weighed down by personal worries, I wasn’t sure if it was the right moment to celebrate the healing power of laughter.

But this week I was on a training day for a clinical research team I’m working with on a drug trial. As part of the training, we were given an experiential breathwork session to help us access an altered state of consciousness. One of my colleagues started giggling uncontrollably, and later said she felt so self-conscious she had shut her laughter down. She had been worried that she was intruding into the experience of other people who might have wanted to be quiet, or been quietly accessing their sadness. I told her that I loved her laughter — since I’d heard it as a release.

I’ve experienced the benefits of laughter so many times that I know we need to create space to welcome it into our lives. Let’s remember how humour can deepen our connection to others, elevate our mood, release tension and make life more bearable — even in the most challenging of circumstances. So, this week’s newsletter is a short ode to the best free medicine there is.

Genuine connection

There’s plenty of research to show that having a good laugh is physically energising; boosts our mood; relieves pain; lowers levels of the stress-hormone cortisol; releases feel-good hormones such as endorphins; increases immunity; relaxes our muscles and improves the quality of our sleep. Studies have shown that we can even trick ourselves into feeling more positive simply by faking a smile.

I’m not talking here about playing a role as a comedian or joker hiding our true feelings behind one-liners, or substituting genuine connection for superficial banter. Real humour is much more profound. When we laugh, we’re more able to access compassion, joy and gratitude. We can let go and experience the unique bond with others that can only arise in the shared appreciation of life’s absurdities.

Seeing the funny side

While HSPs are best known for our deep processing of emotions, we’re also naturally perceptive and skilled readers of social situations — which can equip us with a deliciously sharp wit. Nevertheless, for all the joy and release that laughter can bring, it’s not always easy to see the funny side.

If we’re feeling overwhelmed, depressed or drained, it can be hard to connect with humour — and we might find ourselves resenting those who seem to be able to take their predicament more lightly than we can. That might be especially true if we’ve internalised parental voices telling us that laughter diminishes another’s pain, or is a sign of disrespect.

Many other people grew up in homes where tears were not allowed, but there was plenty of laughter. In some cases, humour and joking were actually used as defences against deeper emotions. If your family used humour in this way, then laughter may make you feel a little anxious. Or, if you’re in a situation where you feel uncomfortable, you may use joking as a coping strategy — or you may even worry that you’re not funny enough.

Perhaps you were raised in a home where being silly and playful was frowned upon, and your parents always seemed quite serious and uptight. You may have had caregivers who were sarcastic, or teased you in a way which didn’t feel validating. Or perhaps you were a more introverted, quiet child who struggled with friendships and never felt part of the inside jokes at school. You may have been teased or mocked and, you may have suffered taunts like: “I’m just being funny. Can’t you take a joke? You’re so sensitive!” Jokes may have seemed threatening when they were used to hurt you in the past — reinforcing a feeling of being misunderstood, or not belonging.

Whatever your relationship with humour, it’s easy for all of us to get too serious — and forget that we haven’t laughed properly, or indulged our silly side, for some time.

Laughing doesn’t mean we’re ignoring the world’s problems. On the contrary, our capacity to laugh is often a sign that we can hold deep sadness and pain as well as joy and light. I’ve often noticed that the people who seem to have the most positive impact on the people around them are those who laugh most easily.

Side-splitting giggles

I’m certainly one of those HSPs who always feels so much better after a good laugh.

As a child, I was known in my family as “the giggler.” I can remember many times collapsing into side-splitting giggles that I couldn’t stop.

Despite the many losses we suffered in my family, laughter, playfulness and silliness were always welcomed, particularly by my nan, who looked after me after my mother died when I was nine. Looking back, I can see we were both struggling and grieving my mum’s death, but we’d have these spontaneous moments where we’d both be laughing so hard that I’d be rolling on the floor and my sides literally hurt. I can see now that this laughter was not only a way to bond — but a cathartic process that helped us both to manage our deep, unspoken emotional pain. Neither of us could connect to our tears and grieve openly, but we could have a giggle together. Ever since, I have been drawn to watching lighthearted comedy or funny films to help me through tough times.

Now when people laugh with me, I notice how seen, comforted and connected I feel.

Healing tool

Sometimes people assume that therapy — because it deals with challenges and trauma — must always be deadly serious. We forget that laughter is our birthright and that humour can help us see our problems in a new light.

Many of us worry about losing control of our feelings and so we often suppress, avoid or numb our pain. The irony is that when we release our tension through laughter, our nervous systems become more regulated, and we’re actually more in control of ourselves — not less. Laughter can also help us to dig deeper inside to reach the underlying layers of suppressed anger or grief, and let them go.

I often find that at the start of my coaching sessions, clients may start off in a heavy, low or irritable mood. An hour later, I’ll often notice that we’re laughing together and the energy has shifted. I can feel the palpable healing effect of these lighter moments, and my clients tell me they’re feeling better and more ready to face the day.

Cosmic giggle

We haven’t bypassed the overwhelm, the sadness, and the grief: We always make space for the difficult emotions that need to be felt, witnessed and honoured. But laughter helps us come back into our bodies, become more grounded, and remember that we aren’t the stories we tell ourselves.

I see laughter like tears: As a release. And if you’re not used to connecting with that side of yourself, it can feel just as vulnerable.

Becoming more present in this way can help us to rediscover some of the qualities of curiosity, playfulness and imagination that come so naturally to young people, but that can easily be overtaken by our commitments as adults. Don’t underestimate what every child knows: the power of the Cosmic Giggle to cut through an argument and lift a heavy atmosphere. We can’t be anywhere else than in the moment if we’re laughing.

Thanks, as ever, for reading The HSP Revolution,