Yo-ho-ho-ga

Ok, I'm a failure at the constant, forced smile. I know the research says your brain takes cues from your body. If you smile, then, you really should feel better. I totally believe in the psycho-physiological link, or whatever you call it. If you've ever sung in a chorus, you know the difference a good face can make in tone.
But it's just too hard to remember to smile. And if you have a teenager and you go around in public with a big goofy smile for no reason...well, there are consequences.
So this week I decided to kick it up a notch.
If I can't force a smile, why not force a laugh instead? Specifically, why not go to the laughter yoga class offered once a week for free?
"I think I'll go to laughing yoga this Friday. Who wants to go with me?"
To my surprise, my daughter agreed. To my stupefication, so did my husband and 22-year-old son.

I first heard of laughter yoga during chit chat at the end of my regular yoga class. One of my classmates had read about it somewhere, and explained that you just go into the room in your regular clothes. No downward-facing dog. No bound dancer pose. And you laugh. That's it.
When I heard this, I thought two things:
1. Here's another crystal-worshipping, space alien new age fad to make fun of. Why don't they call it ha-ha-hatha?
2. Sounds cool. Maybe I'll try it.

Actually, laughter yoga and laughter clubs are a growing national pastime. It was invented by Dr. Madan Katarian, who believes laughing is a great exercise and immune system restorer. For a better explanation than I possibly could give, click here.

The laughter club we'd heard about is offered at Plaza Wellspring and is 45 minutes free every Friday at 6. As Friday afternoon arrived, we were all getting a little nervous. My husband started to make noises about backing out. Maybe he wouldn't make his deadline in time. Maybe work would need to call. My son seemed less than enthusiastic but still game when I called him. And my daughter began texting her friends with the address in case one of them wanted to swing by during class and save her.

I was still committed, but a little scared that I might be greeted by this guy:




Or maybe this:

Our instructor, who had no trouble at all with the wide sincere smile, started us with a little explanation and some warm up exercises. There would be no talking or joke telling, she said. Then there were "introduction" type exercises. Walk up to someone else and give a silly handshake, shy giggles, laughing waves. The 15 or so of us could improvise how we liked. The only thing mandatory was the laugh, either real or faked.
Then came longer exercises--the winding up of giggles from a belly button key, bow and arrow, cocktail shaker, kiss throwing. We did laughing "drives" around the wood floor, bumper cars, a long set of silly dancing, during which there wasn't much breath left over for laughing.
Between laughter sets, we clapped with rhythm: HO, HO, ha-ha-ha. And then big yoga breaths for a rest.

I thought the laughter would be strained and unnatural and it was at first. But then, it was easy. The "exercises" are just so goofy looking that the laughter comes from self-awareness of how insane it all is. Turns out smiling is way harder.
As we laughed, I carefully checked my family to see how they were taking it. Here's the great thing about a laughter class: No one's face gives even the slightest hint that they want to kill you for bringing them because--smiling all that's allowed. They were all smiling, just like everybody else.
The best part came during a time when we were supposed to just lie on our backs and laugh at the funny images we pretended to see in the clouds. I looked over at my daughter and tried to come up with her old laugh--the hysterical one she used to do as she crashed into pedestrians in "Crazy Taxi" at age 5.
When I did that laugh, we both lost it. I had tears pouring toward my ears, and I could hardly stop when the instructor told us it was time to take some deep calming breaths.

I also didn't really believe the claims that laughing is a good workout. I'm a regular gym goer and can run 8 miles, for crying out loud. So I was a little surprised that at the end of 45 minutes I was spent. But in a really, really good way.
"That was the most fun ever," my daughter said as we left. "Next week I want to bring my friends." My son and husband also admitted to having fun, albeit a bit more guardedly.
"What's that on your face?" I asked my daughter.
It was big dark smudges where her considerable eye makeup had run.
Yeah. I'd go again.

Doggie Doo

I just started this optimism stuff what, a couple of weeks ago? It seems too soon to be having a big exam. It really does.
Yet that is what today is shaping up as.
Word started trickling out yesterday that my husband's employer, the McClatchy Company, is considering another round of drastic cutbacks--again. They just had two painful rounds of layoffs at the end of last year, which spared our family. However, it was awful to see good friends losing their jobs.
(Smile. Must maintain smile.)
Then yesterday the buzz was that the analysts would meet with company bigwigs today and that would likely mean more cutbacks, since company stock prices have fallen so low as to be in danger of delisting. Among the possibilities was the idea of a "furlough" which sounds, on the surface, like a kind of fun vacation ashore but in reality means you have to take unpaid leave time.
(Must maintain smile.)
The idea is that we could miss a week of pay this quarter. So I suppose there's a possibility there could be more furloughs in future quarters.
Like many people (see this poll) we would take a pay cut if it means being able to work. We feel lucky that my husband has this good job. If he lost it, my piano lesson fees wouldn't pay the bills, that's for sure.
But sitting here thinking about missing even one week's pay makes me want to throw up. We've just had our second son graduate from college and the double-digit tuition increases (at a state school) exhausted all our savings. Additional college debt payments, plus higher spending on doctors visits, home heating and groceries doesn't leave much for replacing our bald front tire, or the recliner that fell apart three years ago, or our old stove that is just limping along. We don't go out to eat, hardly ever buy clothes. I just don't know what else is left to cut. And our youngest will be college age in just four years.
It doesn't help, either, that various cold-blooded bloggers and blog commenters who read my husband's column are dancing around and clapping their hands at the idea of him being fired. Apparently they would delight in seeing us all sick, cold and hungry on the street as punishment for not being conservative enough. Bad enough that you have to face this kind of strain without people cheering on your destruction.

How to turn this s***storm of bad news into something optimistic is going to be a trip. But somehow I don't think smiling is going to be enough.

So let's see...What Would an Optimist Do?

Well, first of all I suppose she would not dwell on the negative. So let's deal with the haters first. These people rank with the guy who narrowly (and rudely) cuts you off in traffic and ruins your day. I think I need to use some visualization here.

Ok. I'm picturing a nice clean sidewalk lined with buttercups. There in the middle of my nice clean sidewalk is a ferociously huge bit of dog feces, partially stepped on. I'm taking out my hose. I'm setting it on power spray and--yes--there goes the dog crap, rolling away to fertilize the buttercups. Bye, bye, guys.

Yeah, that actually feels kind of good. But it's not particularly nice. Does being an optimist mean you always have to be nice?

As for the furlough. Well, I guess it would be good if we still had the income, lower though it may be. But doesn't that fall into the "it could always be worse" trap I said I'd avoid? So maybe there's some other reason this is good? Thinking...thinking...thinking...

Nah. I've got nothing. That's going to have to do for now.

Smile

It's been a little longer than I expected to post on this. Sick kids and time spent learning the techie aspects of this will do that to you.

So, to get on with my journey:
I chose to try the advice on smiling first because I've heard it pretty much constantly my whole life. My grandmother, who seemed only to like songs with the word "smile" in them, was always telling me to just paste a big happy smile on my face and go out and pretend things are great. "It takes more muscles to frown than it does to smile," she'd say.
First of all, I don't believe that for a minute. How many times have you been at a social gathering that called for lots of smiling--a wedding reception, let's say--and come home exhausted, cheeks aching, from the effort? How could it possibly be right? Wait. Is there a loophole here? Could be have a definition of frown, please? Because if frown is the same as neutral face, then I don't think so.
Turns out there has been some research on this. For a paraphrase, I direct you to The Straight Dope.
Anyway, I've never had much trust for all these smiling people. Some of the worst things that have ever been said or done, in my experience, were all delivered by people with great big phony smiles.

There's a certain segment of researchers out there who think smiling originates from fear shown in monkeys. The bared teeth are apparently some kind of warning or grimace.


Yeah, that sounds about right. Any time I see someone smiling too hard at me, I am afraid.

Plus, I always resisted because I thought there's a little sexism involved. Women are always expected to smile. Just look at your female news anchors and compare them with men. The men just have normally affable faces, while the female anchors are smiling so hard you can see the cords of their necks standing out. It always just seemed we smile to please everyone else. Turns out, according to some other researchers, this is true.

Forget all that, though. Optimism gurus say I must smile, and they have the science to back that up.

So I vowed I would try smiling.

Let me tell you, it isn't easy. First there's the decision of what kind of smile. Should it be a big sloppy grin that broadcasts, "I am a sucker" to passers by, or would it be an easier-to-maintain Mona Lisa number? And would I smile all the time or only when exposed to other people?

I opted for a smile somewhere in the middle of the spectrum, but all the time. If this is really supposed to be changing my brain, I want to give it maximum effect.

Through the grocery store aisles, in the car, as I sit here writing, my thoughts are the same. "Must maintain smile, must maintain smile." So far, though, there have been no big returned smiles and hearty handshakes. In fact quite the opposite. People in the store pointedly do not look at me, or sometimes give a sideways glance just as we pass. What's with this weirdo?

Maybe I just haven't given it enough time. Maybe I have to smile continuously for a certain time period before it begins to change my brain. Possibly, the people I see can tell that my attitude is not yet correct. I guess I'll just have to give it more time.

First Stop: Wikipedia

Hey since this "blogging" stuff is all new and techno, then I really think the first place I look for my definition of an optimist has to be that fountain of internet knowledge, Wikipedia. More specifically, WikiHow.

It's a fairly long article, filled with the kinds of things I've been reading from the self help crowd for years. Steps 1 and 2 merge together nicely. "Let go of the assumption that the world is against you" is idea number one, and "look for the source of your pessimism" is number two. Well, that's easy enough. The source of my pessimism is that the world is against me. Moving on.

The past does not equal the future, and to paraphrase, don't see yourself as a victim. These seem easy and sensible enough. Sometimes good things happen. Yeah, I get that. And although, as a poster adult for the shrinking middle class I have been a victim many, many times, it never helps much to dwell on it. So ok.

"Accept pain, etc. as a part of life but not the entirety." Well, here I run into a little trouble. All the negative stuff just seems to leave so much of a bigger impression. For instance, I can still recall every detail of the time the guy dove into a parking space at the swimming pool ahead of me, then got out of his car and called me a bitch in front of my kids--all because I honked at him.
The doctor who was snarky to me about my daughter's health problem still makes me boiling angry, even five years later. Why is it the one person who cuts me off in traffic has the power to destroy my mood, no matter how perfectly the rest of the day has gone? The person who practiced that random act of kindness, on the other hand, doesn't carry the same weight.

And then we come to point number 6, "Be thankful." The key to being an optimist is recognizing the benefits and possibilities of any situation, and understanding that it could always be worse. If all else fails, think of how life could be worse..." Useless (see previous post).

Okay, mostly this seems like good advice. But what's this practical advice under "tips?"

Look happy. Put on a smile, even if you don't feel it. Because positive facial expressions can affect how you feel.

Ok. I'll try it. More about the outcome in future posts.