Patients laugh a lot in my office. I do, too. Which is, seen one way, ironic, especially when you consider that no one comes to therapy who isn’t suffering. But, seen another way, humor is an ally for those who suffer.
I admit that some of the laughter is a consequence of just me being me. Humor is a vital part of my life, my personality. I enjoy seeing the world with a bit of a tilt. For me, respecting the value of being human includes noticing the absurdity of being human. In the end, only the truth is funny.
But, some of the laughter is deliberate. I mean that I use humor with deliberate intention as part of the therapeutic encounter. The use of humor in therapy is a valuable tool.
Humor: “The faculty of perceiving what is ludicrous or amusing, or of expressing it in speech, writing, or other composition (The Oxford English Dictionary).” Here are the key components:
Irony is a figure of speech in which the intended meaning is deliberately understated, overstated, or is the opposite of that expressed by the words used. Sarcasm (from the Greek “to tear the flesh”) is the use of irony as a sharp, cutting expression, jibe, or taunt. Satire is the use of irony to expose a truth, usually to denounce, deride or ridicule vice, folly, absurdity, indecorum, abuses, or evils of any kind. Lampoon is a particularly virulent satire of an individual or ideology. Parody is a deliberate imitation of a person or ideology designed to point up what is ridiculous. In our culture, parody is used both as hostility and as high compliment. Characterization is like a parody, but involves deliberate exaggeration or cartooning.
When humor is therapeutic, that is, used effectively in therapy, it opens a chain of positive possibilities.
Humor, at once, creates a space of psychological safety AND it evokes vulnerability. This is important, because patients come to therapy to explore great vulnerabilities, but great vulnerabilities are more likely to emerge freely and undamaged in the safety humor provides. Said clinically, humor opens a gestalt. It cranks us open.
Humor in therapy makes unhelpful psychological defenses less necessary. It creates a “spontaneous honesty” that often surprises both me and the patient. There’s a sense of “Wow … did I just say that?” Yep, you did. And it was pretty funny. Because it was true.
Humor coaxes a liberating humility. Amusing self-deprecation is a terrific antidote for murderous self-loathing. A happy human being laughs often and easy at him/herself. There is something so freeing about noticing that we are ridiculous. Contradicted. Forgive me but, “full of it.”
Humor provides a way to effectively manage ambivalence. Used with intention, humor can creatively ventilate the mixed feelings that all of us have about important, close relationships in our lives. Humor can turn ambivalence into playfulness between ourselves and those we love, making it less likely that the ambivalence becomes passive-aggressive, or actually hostile and aggressive.
Humor tells the truth. Over and over again. If you’re laughing about it, it’s nearly certain that you’ve got your finger on something real and authentic about you.
Once we are “cranked open” by humor, we have a better chance at reconstructing the way we are seeing ourselves, others, and circumstances. We have more choices. Humor brings a needed perspective to the work of selfhood before us.
I find humor especially effective (not to mention delightful) in family therapy. One of my favorite questions to ask troubled families is “Is this family any good at humor?” The questions itself changes things. It invites the family to consider its strengths. Other questions include: Who is the funniest? Who most often doesn’t get the joke? What are the ‘humor rules’ in this family? Who is allowed to tease? Everyone? Or only selected members? What subjects are off-limits? Is this family better at laughing, crying, or yelling? Are people allowed to laugh most any time, or only when they drink? Is suffering ever funny in your family tradition?
Humor is a pervasive strength of healthy, resilient families.
Yeah. I have a box of Kleenex on my office table. There are a lot of tears in my office. But, if you hang with me, you’ll find there’s a lot of laughter, too.
Whoever coined the phrase “You gotta laugh or cry” was telling the literal truth. Pick one. Either tends to lead to a good place.
(Steven Kalas is an author, therapist and Episcopal priest. You may reach him at skalas@marinscope.com.)
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