My improv class started meeting outside of class to give us more time to practice.
At the end of the first meeting, we did this laughing/crying exercise: Everyone stands in a circle and two people hold eye contact as they start laughing together. Then, by unspoken agreement, they begin crying while maintaining eye contact. One person turns and makes eye contact with the next person in the circle; they cry together and then start laughing. And so on.
Watching this was amazing.
First, it was funny, seeing the way people cry on demand and laugh with their whole bodies.
Next, it was interesting, observing how the interactions developed and changed and differed among pairs. It was uplifting to hear laughter.
Then, by the time we made it to the final pairs in our little circle, I was almost in tears, even when other people were laughing.
Because this convergence, this edge, this brink of laughter and tears? I know it.
When something horrible happens, I’m on that brink.
You know the feeling?
You think: Did this really happen, on top of everything else?
You think: This is so bad, I can’t even process it.
You think: This is so absurd, it’s hilarious.
Maybe you laugh. And then you remember. And you cry.
And while you cry, you think: Someday, this might make for a good story.
This Glass Has Water 