“You seem normal, you don’t need meds.”
“That IS the meds.”
So, we all broke into a chorus of laughter. And when we are not laughing we sometimes cry. And when we are not doing either, we talk. Quite a lot. It would be a sorry situation if we did nothing more than sit and stare down at the very fibers that came together to create the carpeting beneath our feet. Feedback takes place at intervals with regard to each individual’s rhythmic speech pattern. It’s interactive, really. The day we shared in the gift of laughter over the joke was an especially productive exchange of complex circumstances offered in small vignettes called life. No one passed on their respective turn to speak. No one choked on their words. It was as though there were no barriers. Illumination comes in unscripted language. Kind of like the (so-called) reality shows that dominate so much of our television viewing.
Our brand of reality is infused with dark moments, sad stories, and disjointed relationships looking for remedy. And laughter. And meds. And some semblance of “normal.”