Laughing Meditation

I didn't do a silent breathing meditation this (or last) week, but I did do a laughing meditation with a group of friends.

I learned laughing meditation (by learned I mean did once) in Yoga Class last year, and I enjoyed it surprisingly more than the breathing meditations we did for every class. I actually don't remember if I experienced that feeling of separation from my thoughts, because laughing meditation, to me, is more physically taxing than meditation where you concentrate on your breath. That's what I remember about it: it made my stomach muscles feel tighter.

This time, the laughing meditation was relatively spontaneous. A group of friends and I had just finished a large potluck dinner and were sitting around talking about silly things, when we decided to all do a laughing meditation. We lay down on the floor in a (rough) circle with our heads to the center and we began laughing. The plan was to laugh for five minutes. One friend sat out of the meditation to time us.

We all laughed together. Laughed at each other and ourselves, and it was indeed becoming tiring when some of my friends decided to get physical and start tickling each other to keep the laughter going. It broke the mood for me. I was trying to be serious about this laughing thing. I wanted to really laugh until I meditated (that's how I conceptualized it). I wanted to achieve that goal.

People started getting up off the floor. They were doing it wrong! You cant do laughing meditation by tickling and getting tickled.

I stopped laughing. Eventually, everyone stopped laughing. We checked how long it had been. Just over 2 minutes. Amazing: it felt like so much longer.

Conclusions from this experience? It was annoying not to have everyone invested as much as I was. Like the time I had tried laughing meditation in yoga class: it required everyone to be present and aware. It also seemed to require everyone, period. I didn't (don't) feel as though I could do a laughing meditation solo. For one thin, the laughter comes from other people, it shifts from them to me, ebbs and flows collectively, requiring a collective presence.

I wonder if you could do laughing meditation with two people, looking at each other. I think that seeing the person who is laughing feels a little more unkind, as though you are actually laughing a the other person, as though they are the butt of a joke. Maybe just lying together on your backs would work...