When Was the Last Time You Really Laughed?

When Was the Last Time You Really Laughed?

I don’t mean a polite chuckle or a laugh at something funny on TV.

I mean really laughed—the kind that bubbles up from deep inside, until you can’t catch your breath and tears roll down your cheeks. A belly laugh. A soul laugh.

For me, it had been a long time. But last week, I got to experience it—not just once, but several times.

I was spending time with my daughter and grandson. We were playing Marco Polo in the pool, and I was “it.” At some point, a wave of giggles hit me—completely out of the blue. It wasn’t even something funny, really. I just laughed, and laughed, and laughed. I couldn’t stop. I remember asking, “What’s so funny?” and answering myself with, “I have no idea!” Which only made me laugh harder.

It felt like pure, unfiltered joy. It filled my entire being—head to toe—with lightness. Glee.

We often say things like, "Have a good cry. Let it out—it’s healthy." And yes, it is. Sometimes emotions build up and need releasing. But what about the release that comes from laughter?

Sometimes laughter is nervous or awkward. We’ve all had that kind. But this was something else. This laughter had no attachment, no reason, no backstory. It was a spontaneous release, and it filled me up in a way I hadn’t felt in ages. It brought me to the present moment—the sunshine, the splashing water, the playful spirit of my inner child, the simple joy of being alive.

Even now, the echo of that joy lingers in me.

I’ve taken many vacations—alone, with family, with grandkids. I’ve had fun, planned things, made memories. But something about this last week was different. I wasn’t trying to make it special. I was just in the flow. Totally present. Not thinking about the past or the future. I slept well. I woke up happy. I simply was—and it was enough.

But then I returned home trying to settle into the routine, surprisingly, I experienced what felt like a mild anxiety attack—the first in years. Nothing in particular had happened, but I felt unsettled. My stomach was in knots, I couldn’t sleep well, and I was stuck in a loop of overthinking and self-doubt.

And then... everything flowed again. The day unfolded just fine. Nothing fell apart.

It made me reflect—how quickly we slip back into old habits, old mental patterns, familiar worries. Even after deep presence and joy, we can still get caught in the same tangled nets.

So how do we find the balance between those beautiful moments of flow and the inevitable returns to routine and responsibility?

This week, I’m trying something simple. Not necessarily meditation. Not silence. But sensing inward.

I want to remember that giggle. That glow. That joy.

I’m not trying to recreate the exact moment, or force a laugh. I’m simply going to sit and feel—breath moving in, breath flowing out. Not just as air, but as energy. I’ll focus on its coolness, its presence, its rhythm.

And once I’m comfortable in that space—not analyzing, not overthinking—I’ll invite in a feeling of joy. Not attached to anything. No cause. No effect. Just joy for its own sake. The kind a child feels when splashing in water or laughing for no reason at all.

That’s my gentle invitation for you this week, in the heart of summer:

Take a moment—maybe even just a breath—and instead of quieting your mind, feel it. Sense your breath. Notice where your attention goes. If it’s scattered, gently come back to center. Let your breath become your anchor.

And when you’re ready, breathe in joy. Let it move through you—not because something happened or something went right. But because it’s already there inside you.

I'd love to hear from you—When was the last time you laughed so hard you cried? What brings you back to joy when life gets overwhelming? Do you have a way of sensing your center, your flow?

Let’s share with each other. We learn so much from these little glimpses into one another’s lives.

With warmth and a smile,

Nancy