"Laugh at yourself and at life. Not in the spirit of derision or whining self-pity, but as a remedy, a miracle drug, that will ease your pain, cure your depression, and help you to put in perspective that seemingly terrible defeat and worry with laughter at your predicaments, thus freeing your mind to think clearly toward the solution that is certain to come. Never take yourself too seriously." Og Mandingo

Working as part of a writing and editorial team means, of course, paying close attention to how things are worded. Our antennae are geared to catch mistakes. So, it is no surprise that we often find ourselves sharing the bloopers we’ve seen or heard during the week.

Last week, a co-worker shared some commentary he had heard during a news story.

The reporter, commenting on the scene of an accident, stated seriously, "The emergency crews have been here since they arrived."

Wearing our editor’s hats, we had a good laugh at someone not only stating the obvious but getting paid for it, as well. It immediately brought to mind the now famous sayings of Yogi Berra, whose classics include, "It's like deja-vu, all over again," or "If you ask me anything I don't know, I'm not going to answer."

Early the next morning, I had to drop some letters in the mail bin downstairs next to another co-worker’s desk. I asked her in all seriousness, "Do you think the post office will return this to me if I don’t put a return address on it?"

My co-worker looked at me with a dead pan expression and after a few seconds of well-pointed silence asked, "How would they send it back to you if you don’t put a return address on it?"

There it was, the big, "DUH!"; the dead quiet filled up with my own unspoken thought, "How could you say anything so stupid?!"

Feeling duly chastised, I remembered yesterday’s laugh fest after hearing the reporter’s comments. "Who’s laughing now?" I chided myself. But when I was done feeling stupid, following yet another lesson in humility, I joined my co-worker in a hearty laugh at my expense.

Laughter and a good sleep, said my Irish father, are the best cures for any ill. He was a wise man; one who taught me the value of laughter and the value of learning to laugh at one’s self when necessary. This skill, he said, encourages us to not take ourselves so seriously, which can result in our becoming so "full of ourselves" that there is little room for anything else.

As a student of life, my father’s antenna was raised to the incongruities inherent in being human, and he was fond of pointing out that no amount of education, authority or power will prevent a person from making a fool of him or herself at some point in time. And while he admitted sometimes appreciating being there to see it happen, he was careful not to gloat too obviously because he knew his time was coming. And when it did, he was always ready with a laugh.

When I think back on the most memorable times and people of my life there is always laughter involved. Sharing and making memories with family around the kitchen table, friends at work whose humor relieved stressful situations, laughter in a hospital room or even in a funeral parlor which, if even for a brief moment, eased the pain of loss and offered a glimmer of life’s hope, beauty and the promises of God. "A joyful heart is the health of the body," says the psalmist, and certainly that has been true in my own life.

But on those days when even a smile seems hard to muster, I try to remember the words of another wise, but unknown, author: "Even if there is nothing to laugh about, laugh on credit."

Copyright © 2010 by Mary Regina Morrell