I wrote yesterday about “cottage cues”: those things with which I surround myself to remind my soul to be peaceful and still.
Today I thought I’d tell you about the other side of remembering: the “giggle factor” side.
Yup… I also surround myself with reminders to laugh or giggle or smile and not take life too seriously (which, of course, is my propensity).
Laughter is, indeed, good medicine; it lifts the soul.
Here are just a few of my “giggle factor” reminders, all captured in my home office today:
My “Compu-Troll” (a woodland troll named “Acorn” — notice his nose and hat — who clings to the top edge of my flat-screen monitor and whose job it is to protect my computer).
My stuffed hedgehog, who sits atop my lightbox, and who occasionally receives a stress-release squeeze from me (he’s very tolerant and understanding). I keep threatening to take him into the office at work where I can throw him at my co-workers when they drive me nuts, but I haven’t done so … yet. But look out; that day will come (bwaaa ha ha ha ha!)!
One of my plush moose, who hangs out by my wall calendar and makes me smile:
My sleepy bear clock (always napping), who reminds me that sometimes the most spiritual thing I can do is sleep:
There are more, but these give you the gist of my giggle-factor items. Most bring smiles to my face several times a day. And each smile lightens my heart, even if only for a moment.
The God who created giraffes and manatees has to have a sense of humor. I like to think that my quickness to find benign humor in little things (and to smile at hedgehogs and mooses) somehow reflects His image and humor to a dour, frowning world.
There’s so much to frown about that I think we forget the joy of smiling. And there are always things to smile about even in the darkest places (I’ve been there; I know.).
I’m learning that a smile (not fake, but genuine even through tears) can go a long, long way. It can even make the dark places bearable.
So I choose to smile in the midst, just as I choose to take “cottage cues” moments to still my soul.
It takes only a moment and costs nothing. And I can’t think of a better return.
Won’t you join me?
‘Til next time,
Joan
