Grief doesn't have to be sad . . .

It can be fun.  And wacky.  And downright weird. 

That's what I learned from a grief counselor during an adult retreat last weekend put on by the Hemophilia Foundation.  

The grief counselor didn't say grief could be wacky and weird, per say, (she didn't have to, if you know what I mean), but the seminar did come with a warning.  

WARNING: participants may be subject to FUN! 

That's when Adam Lambert starting singing Mad World over and over in my head. 

How can I describe this grief counselor for you?  Hmmmmm . . . 

Picture this:  Boho-chic, minus the chic, plus a wide rimmed hot pink straw hat, plus a large black plastic Halloween chain draped around her neck. 

And props.  Lots of props.  

Not of the kudos variety, but of the plastic chain and viking hat variety. 

(People in Utah LUB object lessons).

She told everyone at the seminar that we were like vikings, except we didn't plunder and pillage. 

And then she got all compassionate on us.  "I don't know how you guys do it," she said.  "I don't know how you get out of bed each morning and breathe?  Some of you might wish you could just stop breathing.  Some of you probably wish you could commit suicide right now." 

(Is it just me, or would you feel a little awkward hearing that from someone in a viking hat?) 

I actually hadn't thought of suicide, but then she stuck a click-on light to her forehead and told everyone to find their heart light.  

I don't come up with this stuff, peeps, I just report it. 

She shared her grief counseling motto with us, which is Living Life Counts, but the Living Life part is in cursive and the Counts part is in Times New Roman.  

It was amazing the deep questions provoked by this seminar:

What does living life count towards? Do we get credit somewhere for living life? 

And why would her heart light be stuck on her forehead?  Wouldn't that be her head light? 

But these questions were nothing compared to the grand question provoked by the acronym she trademarked: MAAADYLA.  The grand question being:

HUH????

MAAADYLA pronounced ("may-deal'-a") which if you're Canadian is like deal with it, eh?  Or if you're not Canadian you could pronounce the -a" like uhhhhhh . 

She trademarked this acronym because you never know when a Canadian is going to steal your idea.

I'm not Candadian so I would have made it DAMYA'AAL pronounced ("with-a'-southern-drawwwwl") 

or YAMAYADA pronounced ("like yada-yada") 

or I would have made it into an adverb like DAAAAMLY as in the whole fam-daaaamly or made it into it's own holiday like LAAAMDAY

But that's just me. 

During the grief seminar she briefly explained how the first four letters in her acronym help you deal with grief 

Mindfulness 

Acknowledge

Attention

Appreciate

Then I think she was was getting hungry because she added 

Deliciousness

But she spent a majority of her time on the last three 

Yell

Laughing Yoga 

Applause 

She taught everyone how to YELL properly with all of their heart, might, mind and strength. 

The secret is in the sound.  

You don't make any.  You just yell with your face instead of your lungs. 

Or you can yell with your whole body if you want.  Like this:


This is what I would have looked like yelling with my face, if I had participated:

Only I think my waist would have been just a little bit slimmer. 

Finally the grief therapist turned us on to laughing yoga. I'm pretty sure that was the FUN part she warned us about.  

I had no idea there was such a revolution going on in the laughing slash yoga world, but it's very pop-U-lar among people who don't think you need a sense of humor in order to laugh. Laughing yoga requires no comedy or jokes.  You trick your heart and mind, not to mention your kidneys and liver, into feeling happy and joyful.  

This video will be the best 1 minute and 12 seconds you've ever spent on my blog.  Especially if you picture this yogi with a viking hat and a click-on light stuck to his forehead. 

There is also a lot of ho ho ha ha ha and clapping involved in laughing yoga.

Watch the London laughing yoga club and you will get a sense of what the Hemophilia adult retreat grief therapy seminar looked like last weekend.

In the end everyone got to applaud for themselves and I'm glad of it because applauding is better medicine than laughing or yelling.   Vikings and yogis and acronyms can't take the edge off grief like a good hearty round of applause for yourself. 

Followed by a bow and a curtain call. 

(And a Code Red Mountain Dew)