I’ll never forget the moment when, all of a sudden my awareness expanded to include not just myself, and what was happening to me, but to include the person who was “doing it” to me; and the scene was so ludicrous that I burst out laughing.

I had suddenly shot out of my body to take in the entire scene, including my father in the midst of standard punitive behavior, learned from his own German parentage. Not thinking, just acting out of habit, as a good parent. “You do that, my child, and this is what happens. Cause and effect. Hopefully, it will teach you to never do it again.”

There I was, entire body placed over my father’s lap, so tall that feet and hands both reached the floor, and laughing. I was ten years old.

He stopped, and never did it again.

My laughter woke us both up. 

I no longer remember what it was that I had “done” to deserve his punishment. Probably, at that point in my life, I “talked back” to him. Verboten!

The laughing was unexpected, resulting from a sudden shift in my point of view, from  the floor in front of me while feeling the sharp slap slap of flailing hands pummeling my bottom, to encompass the entire scene from above, my body slung over his sitting knees. Had I not gained that larger perspective, my perception of the moment (cowed down by shame, guilt) would have remained as before. Obedient. Compliant. The usual punishment would have worked.

Let us learn to see the entire world this way, as if it’s an absurd theatrical show . . .

Yesterday, to my delight, an old friend from Jackson Hole came for a visit. This was his second visit; the first time was seven years ago. So wonderful that he appreciates what I’m doing here in south central Indiana, a place most people in the mountain west would never consider as a place to live.

Though Rich has since moved “to the other side of the (very steep) pass” over the Tetons, to Driggs, Idaho, we share memories of the good old days in Jackson when rich urban refugees had not yet begun to price out the locals.

And, not surprisingly, since he’s 72 and I’m 79, much of our first few hours visiting had to do with catching up — reminiscing about mutual friends and lovers who have since died. (The longer I live, the more I recognize this life as a stage, and we the players, who come and go.)

Then, at Thursday Community Dinner last night, I asked Dan (my trekking partner) to take a few photos of the two of us. Rich was in a merry mood . . . Me? Grateful for his presence. Spent most of the evening laughing at his antics, as he worked to exaggerate the effects of ego to the point where it breaks into smithereens.

Notice, in this series of three photos, the effect of his shenanigans on me.

Belly laughter resets all the systems of the body. Whatever has been held in tension, suddenly explodes, dissolves, “cracks up.”

I remember my Mom’s mom Nana, her sudden belly laugh, so startling, coming from a proper woman with a pearl necklace. Her laugh sounded almost wicked. Or like, what we enjoy around here, a —

“cackle” — a loud laugh suggestive of a hen’s sound after laying an egg.

The phrase, “laughter is the best medicine is no joke. 

Yes.

“The person who can bring the spirit of laughter into a room is indeed blessed.” Bennett Cerf

Okay. Now try this one on for size:

No matter what they — deep state, cabal, black hats, NWO, etc. try to throw at us in their final desperate attempts to  lock us down into their long planned globalist new world order, we need to laugh our frigging heads off.

What a joke! Are you kidding? Says this SOVEREIGN SOUL, AT ONE WITH ALL.

Which reminds me of a time, 40 years ago: I had fallen asleep around midnight, knowing that my abuser husband Phil would come home sometime during the night, and that I was finally strong enough to tell him I was leaving.

1 AM: I awaken, to a commanding internal voice: “CENTER YOURSELF. YOU HAVE ONE MINUTE.”

So now, let us first laugh our heads off, to rid ourselves of any residual programming, and then

CENTER OURSELVES. WE HAVE TWO WEEKS.