Ode to a Laughing Fit

It rolls like waves then explodes like a clap of thunder.  My uncontrollable “HAAAAHAAAHAAA”  that sounds like a seal’s bark to you.  So you clap your hands like fins and I am completely undone.

Now we are engaged in that silent earthquake laughter, eyes shut, lungs desperate for air, gasping “I can’t. I can’t. I can’t.”

You need water but you can’t walk.

You rest your head on the wall, clutch your stomach and try to say “Make it s-s-s-stop.”

I imitate you.  We’ve gone mad.

You try again but your voice cracks.  I make a goose honking sound.  Someone snorts.

Cracking open in hilarious pain.

The world is still.  I am present with my seemingly elusive breath.

This, the most obnoxious form of meditation, is my favorite.

I Want This For You

When you are told you are a gift to the world, and you believe it.

I want this for you.

When your eyes take someone’s breath away, and that doesn’t seem strange to you.

I want this for you.

When you see yourself in the mirror and get knocked sideways, just for a second, that you’re here, on Earth, being magical and miraculous.

I want this for you.

When you can sit with your own pain, or the pain of someone you love, and feel your heart expanding into more feeling rather than shrinking, or numbing, or struggling to fix it.

I want this for you.

When your gifts are something you express gratitude for without judgement or comparison or fear of losing humility.

I want this for you.

When the love you feel for your awesomeness matches the awesomeness I see.

I want this for you.

I want this love for you. 

Inspired by my beautiful friends, family, students and guides, as well as a song by my gorgeous friend, Nicole Thompson, which has the refrain “I want this for you.”