“The Son of God Forgot to Laugh”

Once upon a time…. (I love starting a story with these words)…before linear time was a thing….the Son of God had a tiny, ridiculous idea. A whisper of separation. A divine “what if”. And instead of laughing it off with cosmic humor he took it seriously.

Very seriously.

So seriously, in fact, that now we have traffic jams, overcooked pasta, broken printer cartridges, and arguments about the correct way to load a dishwasher. (Yes, the ego even has an opinion about rinse cycles.)

According to A Course in Miracles, the “tiny mad idea” of separation was never true. But by not laughing at it, the Son of God started

b e l i e v i n g it. And boom here we are, lost in a virtual reality game with no reset button, unless… we remember to laugh.

Humorism isn’t about denying suffering. It’s not the same as avoidance, sarcasm, or making light of someone’s pain. True humor lightens. It lifts the veil. It softens the edges of seriousness and says:

“Hey… you’re dreaming again. Want to wake up and giggle instead?”

Because if you’ve ever tripped over your own shoelace in public and then tried to pretend it was a Tai Chi move, you know what I mean. The ego hates looking silly. But Spirit loves it. It cracks the illusion. It deflates the pressure. And suddenly, the world doesn’t feel so… heavy.

Some examples:

You walk into a spiritual retreat thinking you’ll find peace, love, joy and someone steals your sandals.

You try to “live in the now” and burn your dinner because you are so busy thinking about the ‘Now’.

You spend an hour writing an angry email to your ex, only to accidentally send it to your son. (“I forgive you for abandoning me emotionally…”)

Your son is now very concerned.

Each moment like that is a portal: laugh, and it becomes a miracle. Stay serious, and you’ve just fed the ego a triple espresso.

The Course teaches us to observe the ego, not attack it. Humor helps us do that. It makes us curious rather than critical. It allows us to say, “Oh, look, there I go again, trying to fix the world instead of waking up from it.”

When we laugh at our own illusions, we stop trying to defend them. And that, dear friends, is true healing.

So next time your day feels like a cosmic sitcom written by a sleep-deprived angel, pause. Smile. Laugh, gently. It’s all part of the dream and the fastest way out is through the heart… with a twinkle in your eye.

As Mooji might say: “Don’t take life so personally. You’re not the main character. You’re the screen it’s playing on.”

With love and light,

G.