“There is a story, in Japan, of the laughing Buddha, Hotei. His whole teaching was just laughter. He would move from one place to another, from one marketplace to another marketplace. He would stand in the middle of the market and start laughing…that was his sermon.
His laughter was catching, infectious; a REAL laughter, his whole belly pulsating with the laughter, shaking with laughter. He would roll on the ground with laughter. People who would collect together, they would start laughing, and then the laughter would spread, and tidal waves of laughter, and the whole village would be overwhelmed with laughter.
People used to wait for Hotei to come to their village because he brought such joy, such blessings. He never uttered a single word, never. You asked about Buddha and he would laugh; you asked about enlightenment and he would laugh; you asked about truth and he would laugh. Laughter was his only message.”
I had read this in Osho’s book of meditation before joining the much awaited laughter meditation. I thought of how wonderful this would be….of course, now if I attempted to just start laughing in a marketplace with no words, I would be dragged off to the funny farm….now that would be the laugh….
I am in love love love with laughter meditation. It is perfect. Just laughing. This session at Osho was 20 minutes of laughter and then 15 minutes silent meditation (still filled with random giggles which I was guilty of) and then, of course, more dancing. I had read about laughter meditation years ago and was curious and wondered if it would be a room of people straining to laugh. It was incredible, I wanted MORE. Not only was it not difficult to keep laughing, I really couldn’t stop, with tears streaming down my face. We were to keep our eyes closed, for the laughter to be OUR laughter, not us laughing at anyone else. But I have to say, at a “dry” moment, I peeked and to see everyone else with their head thrown back in full laughter and some rolling on the floor, this made me so happy, I couldn’t stop laughing once again. There is something phenomenal about being in a huge auditorium of people splitting their sides in laughter. For the first time, I had faith in complete strangers.