The Laugh I Didn’t Know I Needed
I laughed so hard this week that I started crying.
My sister-in-law sent me one of those Instagram posts asking people to make famous band names more mundane, and my mom and I did not sleep on the comments.
Friends… the internet absolutely understood the assignment.
LinkedIn Park.
Walk DMC.
Depeche Meh.
Hootie and the Goldfish.
(My mom’s originals & two of my favs) OK Company and The Moody Dudes
We completely lost it.
You know that kind of laugh where every new comment somehow becomes funnier than the last one? Eventually, you’re not even laughing at the jokes anymore. You’re laughing because the person sitting next to you is laughing, and now neither of you can catch your breath.
Reflecting on that today, a question popped into my head: When did we stop having fun?
Somewhere Along the Way…
I’m talking about regular Tuesday-after-dinner-on-the-couch kind of fun.
The kind that sneaks up on you. The kind that doesn’t cost anything. The kind of fun that reminds you what it feels like to be completely present for ten whole minutes.
I don’t think any of us wake up one day and decide we’re finished having fun.
Life just gets fuller.
We build careers. We raise families. We care for parents. We volunteer. We answer emails that somehow multiply while we’re answering the other emails. We remember birthdays, refill prescriptions, schedule appointments, and carry around a running list of things we absolutely cannot forget.
We’re capable.
We’re dependable.
We’re responsible.
Somewhere in all that responsibility, fun quietly slips toward the bottom of the list.
“I’ll get to it this weekend.”
“Maybe after this project.”
“Things should settle down next month.”
I’ve said, and felt the weight of, every one of those things.
Back in 2022, I was postponing fun. I had stopped imagining it altogether.
My business was struggling, and every bit of energy I had was going toward survival. I wasn’t dreaming about vacations or buying the Jeep I’d wanted for years. I wasn’t thinking about where Megan and I might travel next or what adventure we’d have together.
I was thinking about payroll. Clients. Bills. How to keep moving.
When your brain is working that hard just to keep oxygen in the tank, it doesn’t leave much room for dreaming.
The Way Back Isn’t Always Dramatic
Looking back, I don’t remember one giant breakthrough that changed everything. I remember dragonflies.
Every afternoon I’d wander outside for a few minutes to clear my head, and almost without fail, they’d show up. Sometimes there was one. Sometimes there were six. I’d sit on my back porch watching them zip around the yard, completely fascinated by something I had probably overlooked a thousand times before.
Those dragonflies didn’t solve a single problem. They taught me something. They taught me there was still a world outside my worry.
Then there was Miley.
If you’ve ever met my dog, you know she has an extraordinary gift for making an ordinary day feel like the greatest day of her life.
Throw a tennis ball? Incredible.
Go for a ride? Incredible.
One of her stuffed animals that she’s had forever (and probably should be replaced)? Somehow… still incredible.
She doesn’t spend the morning deciding whether she’s earned fifteen minutes of play. She just sees life and jumps in.
Watching her has made me wonder how many of us have convinced ourselves that joy belongs at the end of the checklist.
Maybe that’s why laughing with my mom stayed with me.
It wasn’t just that we laughed. It was how easy it was.
Nobody planned it.
Nobody scheduled it.
Nobody said, “From 7:00 to 7:30 we’ll experience delight.”
Joy simply showed up because we were paying attention.
Life Begets Life
I’ve started noticing that the same thing happens in other parts of my life.
One afternoon in the garden makes me want another afternoon in the garden.
One walk outside helps me notice the hawks soaring overhead.
One really good laugh makes me want to call a friend.
One evening watching dolphins off the coast of Clearwater reminds me how much life I’ve missed while looking down at a screen.
Life begets life.
That’s become one of my favorite reminders because the more present I become, the more life I notice. The more life I notice, the more alive I feel. And when I feel more alive, I naturally bring more energy, curiosity, patience, and creativity into the people and places that matter most.
I see this happen every time I step onto a stage.
People arrive carrying deadlines, staffing shortages, difficult conversations, and everything else waiting for them back at the office.
Then something shifts.
Someone laughs.
Someone shares a story.
Another person lets out one of those big “Ohhh…” moments when an idea lands.
People start talking to each other instead of just sitting beside each other.
By the end of the workshop, the room feels different.
They’re engaged.
They’re curious.
They’re participating.
They’re alive again.
That’s the work I care about most.
Helping people remember that meaningful work and meaningful lives were never meant to compete with one another.
🎮 The 12-Year-Old Challenge
Let’s play a game. Imagine your twelve-year-old self knocks on your front door this afternoon.
They don’t know what an inbox is.
They couldn’t care less about quarterly goals.
They just want to know one thing:
“So… what are we doing today?”
What’s the first answer that comes to mind?
Riding a bike?
Shooting hoops?
Swimming?
Planting tomatoes?
Calling your mom?
Playing catch with your dog?
Eating an ice cream sandwich because it’s ninety degrees outside?
Whatever popped into your head first, don’t dismiss it. Go do the grown-up version of that this week.
Life begets life.
And I have a feeling that part of you has been waiting for the invitation.
You got this!
Imagine a Team That Feels Alive Again
If your team has been carrying so much that they’ve forgotten what it feels like to laugh together, think creatively, and genuinely enjoy the work they’re doing, I’d love to help.
My Stress Less, Serve More workshops create space for people to reconnect with themselves, one another, and the work that first inspired them. Because when people feel alive again, they don’t just bring more energy to their work. They bring more life to everything waiting for them when they get home.
If your team, organization, or audience could use more steadiness, more breathing room, and a healthier way to move through pressure, that is the work I do. Stress Less, Serve More helps people reconnect with what keeps them human while doing meaningful work.
If your team has been running on fumes, carrying too much, or forgetting what steady energy and joy even feels like, let’s bring this conversation into your next all-staff meeting, retreat, or leadership gathering.