I remember exactly when I first encountered ‘Laughter Yoga’ – it was in June 2024, at the Hakuba Forum in Japan. I remember very clearly that I was rather sceptical, and more than a little trepidatious … but the introductory exercise we experienced, as part of our journey of self-connection and world impact, was surprisingly exhilarating – and enormous fun! I laughed SUCH a lot!
I enjoy laughing – I really, really do! It is one of my favourite activities, and – now that I think about it, as I write – I might even consider putting it on my CV and/or LinkedIn profile. 2026 has started for me with a whirl of activity, including an inspiring and vigorous 10 day visit to Hong Kong to support Dalton School Hong Kong in my capacity as a Board member, and then a motivational 2 day stopover back in London with the coaching team from Wellington College Education China. In both of these spaces, there was much laughter – real laughter – the best kind of laughter – spontaneous, unguarded, and sometimes bordering on the slightly uncontrollable. It was the kind of laughter that takes you by surprise, catches you in the throat, and then spills out anyway, into a glorious explosion, with ripples that reach far beyond.
It is easy to underestimate the physical impact of laughing, until one does it properly. Deep laughter tightens the stomach muscles, draws breath sharply into the lungs, and sends a warmth through the chest that is almost visceral. It changes posture; shoulders drop, jaws unclench, faces soften. There is a reason why people talk about laughter as medicine, even if the phrase is well-worn: in moments of shared – and often unexpected – humour, something loosens, because tension drains away, if only briefly, and even in highly professional situations, we remember that we are above all human, before we are professional, analytical or strategic.
In Hong Kong, as in London, that laughter was often born of shared experience, where we shared the common absurdities of leadership (which inevitably accompany its successes), as well as the unspoken understanding that some days are simply hard, and that others are unexpectedly joyful. There is a particular power in laughing together in a professional context, because it creates connection and trust. Laughter reminds teams that they are not alone in their thinking, or their fatigue.
Yet, there are days and circumstances when laughter feels out of reach; there are times when laughter feels entirely inappropriate, or even impossible, because we live in a world where the news, more often than not, carries a heavy weight, reminding us of shocking conflict, injustice, environmental anxiety, and human suffering. There are moments when laughter catches in the throat not because of joy, but because it feels discordant with what we are absorbing. To pretend otherwise would be glib, and to insist on cheerfulness in the face of genuine grief or fear can feel hollow.
It is important to name this; laughter is not a moral obligation, nor is it a human right (although it would be amazing if it were). There are times when the right response is stillness, reflection, or sorrow; there are times when humour would be a distraction, rather than a balm. Emotional honesty really matters, and there is courage in allowing ourselves, and others, to sit with discomfort when that is what the moment demands.
But even in these really, really hard moments, laughter has a quiet persistence. It waits, poised like a cat, ready to pounce. It reappears unexpectedly; in a shared glance, a small irony, a moment of levity that does not erase the seriousness of the world, but coexists with it. It does not fix what is broken, but it can give us just enough lightness to keep going, to keep caring, to keep showing up.
So, as I unpack my suitcase and prepare for a wonderful week online, with some phenomenal coachees, and in some forward-thinking Boards, I am holding on to that memory of laughter in person – the sound of it, the feel of it, and the way it reminded me why human connection matters so much. The world may give us many reasons to feel heavy, but if and when we can, let us try to laugh; not to diminish what is hard, but to strengthen ourselves for facing it.
Onwards and upwards! Have a wonderful week!
