Funny Thing.

One method for maintaining physical well-being that perplexes me is Laughter Yoga. Which is a form of yoga that employs laughter as a form of excercise. I suppose. It seems to be based off of the old adage that laughter is the best medicine, and supposedly prolongs ones life. Which may well be true.

I have serious doubts about the veracity of its claims. Firstly. Where this yoga technique falters is in the interpretation. The old saying doesn't actually express the belief that the physical act of laughing is somehow healthy in and off itself. What it is expressing, to my ears at least, is that a certain mirth and light heartedness makes you on the whole - live a better healthier life. And there are facts that back this up. Depressed people tend to take care of themselves less well than those who are not. Couple that with a sharp increase in substance abuse among people with depression and there appears to be some truth to the whole thing. Who hasn't had a drink too many from simply being a bit down in the dumps?

For people who believe in chakras and energy patterns and other unproven things they take some things surprisingly literally. I would have expected a little bit more imagination and anagoge.

If the act of laughing alone is somehow healthy, is then giggling also good for you health? Not in equal measure of course (that would be absurd) but how many percent on the total laugh-o-meter are we hitting with a simple spasmodic burst from the mouth and nose? Not to mention all the different varieties of chuckles and chortles. And what about a disrespectful snigger? Is that also a way towards a good long life? Perish the thought. Some asshole will live to be a thousand.

No. We need to stop this right away. Laughter should be reserved for manifesting joy, amusement or in some cases scorn. No more laughing without actually meaning it. What's next? Sneezing when we're not feeling...sneezy? Shaking hands although we've already met the person and are quite familiar with them? High-fiving at the funerals of loved ones? Complete madness. Almost as mad as standing around in a group and laughing hysterically for no real reason.

Musings on moisture.

The wonderous world of weather phenomenon. It's perplexing, how such things evoke thoughts and feelings in me.

Mist can be romantic and mysterious. As it creeps and lingers around trees and up against moss-covered blocks of granite I sense something otherworldly. Infiltrating and caressing. Implying a spark of life it does not possess. Like a stalker, only less likely to carry a knife.

Fog is sometimes comforting when it envelopes your house on an autumn sunday while you enjoy a cup of tea. Turning your humble abode into a safe island, plunked down in an ocean of upcoming and stressful monday morning musts.

Haze mutes the world, bluring the harsh colours and blunting the sharp edges. Making the world seem distant and soothingly at bay. Perhaps a moderate bout of cataract would be beneficial? Not only for the weed-privileges.

Few things can compare to the pleasures of imagining a simple cloud into a rambunctious little turtle driving a tractor (fueled by nothing but chocolate) on a marvelously sun-drenched spring day. That so much joy can be drawn from water vapor floating aimlessly through the air. From what is in essence just dampness taken flight. So why don't I feel the same way when it infiltrates my socks?

I even find mushroom clouds quite attractive. In their own way.

The Joy of Words.

Every little word fascinates me. Fills me with ideas and images that make up my mental mindscape. Why does a word fit in a certain place and not another? How come just the sound of things intrigue me? And I'm not talking about the rules we all follow according to proper grammar. It's more a psychological thing, I'd say. When a well constructed sentence finally reaches its conclusion I feel like I've been on a little ride. - "Wheeeeee!". A soothing cathartic feeling washes over me. The core of this feeling probably has to do with the ideas that are conveyed. I'm always craving a nourishing exchange of ideas. But what turns them into something extra scrumptious is the way in which these ideas are delivered. The yummy coating that makes the healthy thought go down smooth. Words that aren't just used to obscure the truth. Infotain me baby! All this makes me feel a sort of joy. The anger that I often carry around on a regular day disperses right then and there. Where does all the hate go? When someone makes me a better person I love them for it. I just hope I can repay this elegant favour in kind. Too bad most people are God damn morons. The next guy who tries to talk to me about football or some such meaningless activity is getting punched right in the penis! I do not demand intelligence or even wit of others, as I have precious little of these commodities myself at times. I just hope for an eagerness to learn and thoughtfulness in all situations. - Cuteness, I'm quite smitten with you but I don't dare say it yet.

5 grams of glee.

Did you know that in Sweden you're not allowed to carry around more than 5 grams of glee at any one time? Anything more than that would be illegal. Above that amount and you're considered a dealer of delight, a pusher of joy. No, 5 grams is the sanctioned amount. It's not even enough to make you properly merry. But it is however enough to make you fine, without being too dandy. Scientific studies have shown that any more than 15 grams of glee can cause you to become more than happy, a dangerous mental condition. Afflicted with which you'll be put in a special institution. Locked away, prohibited from gladdening anyone's day. Society can only handle a specific amount of bliss each month. More than a specified amount and it would just become obscene. Felicity frenzy would break out! Gangs of gaiety would be rampaging up the streets spreading joviality all around. Pandemonium of positivity! I think I just gleed a little. Better clean up. Hand me my mirth-towel.