Make Me Laugh

It is no secret to anyone who knows me that I take life far too seriously. That may even be an understatement. So much of my persona is built around the precept that there are right things to do, and right ways to do them. I have endeavored to apply that to so many areas of my life, it borders on obsession. This guiding principle has provided me a fair measure of success, at least in terms of academics and career. I don't really fear failure, but I would be lying if I didn't say that failure or mediocrity are things I tend to abhor. These are heavy expectations I place on myself, and I am my own worst critic. I am sure there are plenty others like me in that respect.

But I do take things seriously. Inauthenticity bothers me. Poor character bothers me. Injustice bothers me. It is illuminating really, because as much as I think I don't levy expectations of perfection or high standards on anyone else but myself, I actually do. Because in part, that's the way I am, so if I expect it from myself, I find it hard to understand people who don't expect it of themselves. Because in everything, there are right things to do and right ways to do them.

And all of that is understandable, if I look only at that part of me that "has it all figured out," those things by which men are most often measured in this world. Yet the result is often two-dimensional, lacking in the depth of what man was created to be. What do people see? They see a smart, intelligent, hard-working man who is cynical, negative and a worthy protégé of Grumpy the dwarf. Perhaps a good and caring man, passionate about Truth, but with a demeanor that simply brings people down.

Last week, my wife shared with me a conversation she had with my oldest son. I don't remember the exact details, but in effect, he was about to brush his teeth when he heard her outside the bathroom door. He said, "I knew it was you, Mom, because of your laugh! Dad doesn't laugh, or at least, I don't ever hear him laugh."

I'm afraid he's right. My kids don't often see me laugh, because laughter is usually a product of an inner joy. Joy has always been fleeting for me. But as I mull over the truth of his words, how sad it makes me! For all my efforts and attempts to do right things in the right way, I clearly have fallen short of being the kind of father my kids need to see to make their way in this difficult world. My kids have seen me angry, tired, sad and sick. Have they ever seen me happy? How can they hear me laugh with joy and delight when the truth is, I don't? They do know that I love them dearly, and that I am very proud of them for who they are today. But if that is all they see, then I risk robbing them of their joy and delight. I don't want them to be like me; I want them to be happy.

And so I wrestle with the reality that the right thing to do - as a dad - is to be sure that my kids know that joy is essential to their emotional and spiritual well-being. That fun and laughter is a delightful part of life that should be indulged, not frowned upon. That even though the world is hard and often dark, joy is the light that will enable them to thrive despite the forces at work against them. It is the right thing to do. And as for the right way to do it? Well, the simplest answer may be the correct one.

Try.

Can I succeed? Don't make me laugh.