George Burns said, “You can’t help getting older, but you don’t have to be old.” But how do you avoid the “old”? you may be wondering.
Gene Ahlf provides an answer you might find laughable: add more humor to your life. Research reveals that laughter, like exercise, reduces stress and promotes endorphins, which are a kind of chemical morale booster for the brain. Ahlf, a California resident, incorporates chuckles when he’s golfing, skiing, biking or walking. He’s been married nearly 40 years and says humor is a necessity for a union lasting that long. His secret? “I don’t try to run her life, and I don’t try to run mine. When I mentioned to her that I’d never had an ulcer, she said, ‘No, but you’re probably a carrier.’”
Norman Cousins, an editor diagnosed as terminally ill, undertook a study of his painful condition and found that ten minutes of belly-bobbing laughter gave him two hours of uninterrupted sleep. He made visitors bring with them tapes of “Candid Camera” and Marx Brothers movies, after deciding that laughter possessed curative powers. He lived for years after leaving the hospital. His book, Anatomy of an Illness, helped inspire some hospital and nursing home staff members to supply patients reasons for smiles and chuckles. It’s a movement that deserves far wider practice.
“When one of life’s tragedies occurs, it’s entirely up to you whether you’re stressed or angry,” Ahlf says. A case in point: You wait at the deli counter ten minutes then find out everyone else has a number. Instead of flipping out, find the humor in the situation.
Worry takes a toll because we can’t make decisions, Ahlf says. Try looking at a problem on a credibility scale from 1 to 9, he suggests. You’re staring into darkness at 3 a.m. with a worry. Typically you’d start midway on the scale with a 5 rating, then, upon reviewing the facts and probabilities, you could lower the rating and realize the problem’s insignificant, or you may need to up the number, and determine that, yes, it’s a concern that you will do something about first thing in the morning. Either way, having reached a decision, you can turn over and saw some ZZZZ’s again.
He quotes Robert Frost, who wrote, “The reason worry kills more people than work is that more people worry than work.” When he tried resuming softball, Ahlf found he could still hit and run, but his arm told him his throwing days were over. It was like Rodney Dangerfield telling the doctor, “It hurts when I do that,” and the doctor replies, “Don’t do that.” Limited athletic prowess provides some advantages. “When I drive a golf ball now I never lose sight of it,” Ahlf says.
He tells the story of the minister who asked his congregation, “How many of you want to go to heaven?” Everyone except a man in back raised a hand. “You, sir,” said the minister. “Don’t you want to go to heaven when you die?” The man replied, “Oh, when I die. I though you were gettin’ up a load now.”
After Ahlf experienced that most devastating of losses, the death of a child, he could in time look back to the happy moments with his daughter. “I steer myself that way.”
He sums up his message by recommending that you “Mobilize your body’s own natural healing resources with positive emotions. Apply liberal doses of humor in dealing with tragedy,” whether it be as minor as a spilled glass of water or the loss of a loved one.
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