When your father calls (excitedly) to tell you he’s bought you a cemetery plot, you have been given a gift of great material. But a love of life? I-don’t-think-so.
After many decades of coffin talk with my Freudian shaman, I made the decision I would create a virtual house of mirth. And open my doors to everyone who shares that passion for high-spirited living.
Do you adore fun? I’m talking gaiety and joy not white knuckles from a roller coaster. Do you giggle when you flop? Just yesterday, I was purchasing frisee lettuce and kale from an organic farmer who uses recycled newspaper instead of paper bags and the organic farmer was so warm and helpful that I said, “You have very good table manners.”
Yup. “Very good table manners,” I said.
The organic farmer looked a bit confused but then we both laughed at my ridiculous comment. It felt delicious to be amused by my own slip of the tongue. (Psst: He also sells organic Delicious apples but they looked rotten.)
Mirth must be genuine. It comes from within you. And yes dear, we know if you’re faking it — your eyes and your smile must be in sync. Sparkling eyes + Hearty laugh = Mirth.
How to do it? You need to wake up and believe that something fabulous is going to happen. You have to create something fabulous so it’s not one day rolling into the next. Call someone to say hello (aside: My phone never rings! Will someone please call me?) Surprise the guy standing next to you and treat him to his decaf Americano with skim milk foam. Listen to that telemarketer calling at dinner time instead of barking “Please don’t call me again.” (Uh, please don’t call me again, okay?)
You see, mirth is like the muse. You cannot chase the muse — the muse must come to you. And mirth will come to you when you’re generous and lovely, silly and zany, and all the beautiful attributes that make people want to be in your air.
Join my party. My doors are wide open. Open your doors too and let the mirth in.