Tell me what makes you laugh
I belong to so many support groups, it is mind blowing. I’m in a parent support group, a parent coaching group, an alumni parent support group, a two-hour adult children of alcoholics group, my own therapy and then there is the improv class.
The improv class is scary. Vulnerable scary. You get all your fears activated right up front – I’m not that smart, that clever, that quick, that creative – oh, the list is endless of what you are not and I am not. And yet we show up, this cohort of once ingenues and now in our nth season, we are seasoned – we show up, we take instruction from a pro, and we leave gutted from laughing so hard.
We belly laugh.
We laugh till we spit.
We laugh on the floor.
We laugh at each other, at ourselves, at all the crazy that comes out of each other’s mouths, brains, unconscious and subconscious minds – the therapeutic element of free forming stories, ideas, concepts, characters, scenes and even a simple sentence is proof that making yourself as vulnerable AF is alchemy for the soul.
