Ho Ho Here We Go (Again)

Last week was stressful. Unusually stressful. We dealt with rumors of more work cutbacks, a minor health problem, an unexpectedly high bill to repair the rototiller and of course, the continuing stock market saga. So as the week marched on, we had a decision to make:
Should we return to laughing yoga?
My husband and son had scheduling conflicts. My daughter, though, surprised me. She'd been assuming all along we would go again. And--little did I know--she'd been busy inviting friends.
Going to laughter yoga once out of curiosity is one thing (read account here). Going back is quite another. And going back in the company of two or more teenage girls...well, that puts it in a whole different dimension.
Irene, my daughter, is at the age when it becomes obvious that your parents need to be reined in. They should be told to keep their public actions more tepid, beige and uninteresting, lest they embarrass you.
To that end, we have a long list of things we've been asked not to do in public:
Sing
Whistle
Dance
Gesticulate excessively with the hands
Smile too much
Or generally do anything else deemed too goofy.
Now, I am to believe that I will be doing all those things and more, not only in public but in the company of her girlfriends. What's happening here? Am I being punked? Will I see a secretly-taped video of myself shooting "laughter arrows" later on Facebook?
Since I was a little leery about her motives, we had a talk before going. Just to make things clear. You can't isolate yourselves in your little group, I said. You can't talk to each other. You have to do everything the instructor says.
And I better not see you making fun of anyone else there, either.
But she seemed sincere and, just in case she was, I didn't want to be the harsh cop much more than that.
So off we went, with two of her friends.
The class was essentially the same, but with some changes in the exercises. It wasn't any harder to laugh the second time around. We still got tired and we still felt good afterward. Everyone behaved.
And--surprise, surprise--a laughter yoga class seems custom made for 14-year-old girls. Giggling and acting goofy are things they are well practiced in.
I also was happily surprised that there were no meaningful nods or elbow prods at the expense of others in the room. I guess when everyone is laughing together, it's harder to play the critical observer--another thing that teenage girls are often well practiced at.
Which brings me to the reason I like this yoga. It isn't so much the laughing, or even the goofiness of the exercises. It's the fact that you get to spend 45 minutes in a room full of people and they're all smiling and making eye contact with you the entire time. How many other times a month--or a year, for that matter--can you say that?
You're in a room where no one is casting disapproval. (Well perhaps they are, deep in their minds. But you could never tell from their faces, which are smiling. Anyway, I'm not so sure it's possible to be disapproving when you're laughing and doing crazy things.) For a social phobe like me, that's healing balm.
The person who thought this up, I am told, thinks it could hasten world peace if enough people do it. I don't know about that, but I could see it improving the clique-conscious climate of high schools and the anxiety of work. Who knows, maybe it would help the Pentagon as well.
President Obama, are you listening?