Losing my Humour.

I am wondering if my sense of humour is being blighted. It just does not feel funny anymore.  Not that a global pandemic is ever funny but for some reason in the first few weeks of lockdown I felt as if I had a humour reawakening.  It could be attributed to spending more time with my children who have their own particular brand of wackiness, or maybe it's just that I had more time to find things funny. Maybe with time restrictions eased, I  didn't have to ask anyone to stop mid comedy to 'get ready' 'go out', 'put your shoes on' and all the other humour busting sayings one becomes accustomed to when busy, busy, busy.

I believe in humour - a lot. I am the type of person who when upset would rather you were comic than understanding. I don't really believe we can truly understand the feelings of another, empathise, yes - but feelings (at least mine) are often descended from mystery - if you redirect my perception to something absurd then I can freely release those much needed tears. I believe humour can reach places where reasoned argument, sometimes cannot. When I was much younger,  there was nothing I relished better than a good old fashioned contradiction- those endless, vicious, verbal tennis matches where the objective is to obliterate your opponent with your wordy volley or your ideological serve. As I have aged I realise that most people do not want their minds to be opened or grown or changed they want to either prove they are right or be bolstered in that certainty. I don't think I need that, although my husband may think differently- but his viewpoints are wrong. I may not be up for a round of verbal tennis but I am all out when it comes to a pointed, poignant joke. At least I think my humour is intellectually superior but in reality it is probably just facile.

The news has been especially not funny. Although, there is a million jokes to be had about a man who turns up late to a press conference: dressed like he scrambled to cover his modesty after being caught mid-way through copulation. Or that he is such a reasoned intellect he prefers car driving 30 miles to test his eyesight rather than an actual eyesight test. Plenty of jokes to be had, but few produce a belly laugh, only a snigger that you use to swallow down an unpleasant taste of 'being taken for a ride'. Or, in other news we hear about yet another black man, George Floyd,  being held forcibly unto his death and I scroll through the comments and here white people claim it is 'made up' or that the force that killed him for an alleged fake cheque is somehow justified. In this case, white people, we are the joke but not funny at all - in my head, this joke doesn't produce so much as a snigger needed to swallow any bile down.  So I sit with it in my mouth ashamed and angry.

I probably will rediscover my sense of humour, it will probably be in the bottom of a shitty day and in amongst the crazy antics of my children, although the youngest dropping his trousers is wearing a bit thin. In times like this I struggle to find the answer as to how much shielding I should offer my children. I perceive there is a fashion of raising children of privilege very separate from human sufferings, as we make them believe they are Prince and Princesses, but to me- that way only leads to callous adults or breakdown of confidence when the family protection does not cover the hardships life brings along.  How do we bring up children compassionate but strong enough to weather the storms of humanity? For me, as an adult, that is where I have often found, life- affirming humour, somewhere between the storm and the absurdity of it all and it never fails to make me smile.