When my 70-plus-year-old friends and I go on long trips, we always ask our funny friends to sit by us. You know why. We overlook the time when we keep laughing.
Humour brings joy, alleviates stress, and enhances our social connections. I only wish I have this sense of humour. Sadly, when the Angel of God distributed this gift, I was not around. Still, I am here to share how humour can benefit Seniors.
Here are a few:
Laughter boosts mood. Humour and laughter release endorphins, which are natural feel-good chemicals. Seniors who engage in humour and laughter experience an improved mood and increased happiness.
Stress relief. Aging can come with challenges, but humour can be a stress reliever. Finding humour in everyday situations helps seniors cope with stress, lighten their outlook, and maintain a positive mindset.
Social connection. Sharing laughter and humour strengthens social bonds and fosters connections with others. Simply sharing funny stories with friends can create a sense of camaraderie and alleviate feelings of loneliness or isolation.
Mental health. Humour stimulates the brain and promotes mental agility. It improves cognitive functioning, memory, and creativity. Activities like solving puzzles, playing games, or watching comedy shows can be mentally stimulating and entertaining.
Perspective and resilience. Humour helps seniors maintain a sense of perspective and resilience when facing challenges. It allows us to find the lighter side of life and approach difficulties with a positive attitude.
It is, however, essential to note that humour should always be respectful and sensitive to individual preferences. What may be funny to one person might not be to another. When using humour with seniors, it’s essential to consider their cultural background, values, and personal circumstances. Otherwise, it can break relationships.
I used to visit my home province, but only sometimes and only for short periods. Thus, I couldn’t explore the changes since I was a child growing up in this place.
Revisiting Your Roots. Copyright: aesta1
This time, I decided to stay on for four months, and after a month, yes, it took me a month to settle down and fully appreciate the experience of being a local again, not just a foreigner visiting another place.
Even inserting back into my family again, knowing the new members and seeing the growth in each one is a bit baffling. Sometimes, it is hard to comprehend how some people can change so much, but they do. The dynamics have changed, too. It is interesting to watch and find out what role I can play, especially in celebrations they have done without me for many years.
It used to be that I was only visiting, and everyone tried to accommodate me, knowing that I would be gone in a week or two. These days, it is different. I am putting down roots again, which shows continuity. I am reestablishing relationships to which I have not given any attention for years, knowing my former friends and relating with them again. I have changed, and they, too, have changed. It is interesting how this plays out.
Some have detached themselves from the group, but many try to be part of the interaction. We visit each other and organize activities to bond once more and refresh our memories of things we used to enjoy. Some have passed, and we hold masses for them lest we forget. It is sad because, at our age, we face our passing daily.
We had our Christmas party this year, and I hosted it, but each one brought food. It started at nine and ended at 5. I thought at first, what are we going to do? Time was even lacking for other things we wanted to do. It’s as if we were in high school once more.
Those who had not attended other previous celebrations enjoyed themselves so much that they promised, from now on, to be in all of the gatherings. They had so much fun that they wanted to experience it again. We forgot ourselves, and we were children in the playground of the past, playing, shoving, dancing, singing, showing our talent, and taunting each other. We were together our whole childhood but lost touch after high school graduation.
The years of building a career and raising families have left our relationships without attention. Only when the kids had grown did we find time to connect again. This connection strengthened when we saw each other at our golden jubilee, 50 years after graduation from high school. Many of us had not seen each other or talked to many.
Strengthening these connections gave us so much joy that we tried to gather whenever there were occasions to celebrate or gather. We always find reasons, of course, especially when some who now live in other countries come home. These were occasions to connect, celebrate, and share whatever we had, even around snacks in the afternoon.
Gathering of friends. Copyright: aesta1
These occasions always lead to reminiscing about our childhood days, what we remembered and what news we received about our classmates and friends. We often learn about the families in our town since childhood. Some information brings joy, some pain, and others, sorrow, but whatever they are, they are always welcome. If the persons are around, they will get congratulated, praised, reprimanded, or sternly talked to, depending on what is shared.
Because we grew up and knew each other’s families, we feel free to react to the sharing as in a family circle. We could be brutal among friends who have grown up together because we are secure in our care for each other. It is such a comfort to be with people one could be one’s self.
Our roots are solid. We belong to the same town knowing the same families. We knew each other’s families and shared our joys, frustrations, and pains. Going back to one’s roots is a very comforting experience. If you still need to do this, start now.
I lost an article I worked on for hours and am distraught. I felt inspired to write that article. I was happy about it, but it got lost in the process of posting it. I got angry at myself. I had only my stupidity to blame. Or my ignorance or carelessness.
Trillium. Copyright: aesta1
I took time out to escape the state I was in when I lost it. Many tries at retrieving it frustrated me that the only way left for me was to give it up, let it go, and start anew.
As I relaxed more, I reflected on it. Losing is so much a part of our lives. It happens almost every day. We lose an object we like, our pet dies, or someone takes our plant. The worst is when a loved one passes on to another life. It leaves us angry, disappointed, afraid, or empty.
I sat down again to write, hoping to recapture the article. I know this is only my way of dealing with the unfortunate situation, but it will not return. I must let go and keep living and creating something new and different. Instead of moping and thinking of the lost one, I focused on creating something new. Yet, the loss kept coming back. The feeling of anger is still there. The disappointment prevents me from thinking. I knew I had to give it time to let it go. It is gone. It is not gone to me, though.
Losing is a daily occurrence. I thought over 70 years that I would be a pro at this pattern of accepting and letting go. No, every event is new. Every event makes me go through the process once more. Is there ever an end to this. Will I ever grow muscles to let go when I lose someone or something quickly?
People tell me to keep myself busy. I’m trying to do that, but the struggle between the loss and the new creation gives me a headache. It continues to play in my mind. Ah, the mind. It refuses to let go.
The only way is for me to quiet my mind down. I can’t fight it. I can only allow its unfolding process or go beyond it. I know I am not my mind, Nor am I my body. I am not the things I lost. No matter how precious they are, they are not me. They are their own. I need to set them free so that they can be. I am my being, and letting them go, allows me to be.
It is this being that I need to be in touch with, to be in its core, so I don’t get lost when I lose things. I know this truth, but each loss brings it back for me to understand it fully. Each day, I need to remember that losing is part of life.
I can watch the unfolding of things, including the loss, and let it be. Being in Me is an anchor. I am.
