I’ve been given homework assignment from the leader of a Writing for Healing session — How can I turn disaster into laughter. I tend to have a serious and morose affect. But I am capable of laughter, especially when it comes to animals. I was on a call with several of my siblings and my brother’s puppy, Buddy, was doing his puppy growl and I started giggling. There was no disaster to turn into laughter unless of course you consider us talking about an upcoming celebration of life event coming up where all of us plan to attend but none of us are looking forward to. The disaster isn’t the celebration of life, it’s the sudden transition of our father who died very suddenly after falling on the sidewalk while walking his dog, Bitte. I had spoken with him a few days prior and he mentioned how he had been feeling dizzy lately. I encouraged him to take it easy and told him I loved him.

I mention our conversation because there is a sense of guilt surrounding his fall. It’s an ego thing, to think that I could have done something to prevent the fall or whatever happened in his body to cause the fall. I suppose all of us kids have thought the same thing: what if I had visited more often? Would the visits keep him alive. Not likely.

But still, I so very much enjoyed visits with Dad before he and his wife bullied my son when he was going through a rough time in his life. The words and actions completely broke my son. I will never understand what they were thinking. Why would very harsh words and actions get a young man to snap out of his depression, loneliness and low self-esteem? It broke my heart as well because my dad and his wife used to care so much for my son and they got along so well for 30+ years. The harsh words and actions are disaster that I have failed to turn into laughter. The only laughter is when I spend time with my son. Perhaps there was something in their harsh words that catapulted the situation into a positive one … but they completely demolished their relationship.

Relationships within my family have always been interesting. As are all relationships. Currently, we’ve all been a bit closer since my dad transitioned. I especially enjoy observing how one sibling in particular has decided to communicate with several others after years and years. We grew up with a mother who constantly pitted us against each other which I have read is one sign of narcissism. I recall a conversation years ago where I finally got sick of it and said to her, “You have to stop eating people alive.” Her comments were relentless up to that point. They subsided for a while until she felt that saying negative things about a couple of people constantly would get her what she needed. It never worked, I told her again to stop and that I would not listen to it or read it.

And now that she seems to have stopped eating people alive, the laughter has bubbled up in happy conversations with my siblings. I remember my dad telling me, “I’m sorry I didn’t protect you.” Protect me from what? Men raping me? Mother eating all of us alive with her backstabbing and lying and pitting us against one another? Maybe all of the above and more. Dad’s transition has shifted the mother-child dynamic

If this were a stand-up routine. I could spin stories to get a laugh or two but that would be eating my mother alive, and I do not want to do that. Occasionally, several of us siblings will talk about things that make us laugh. We turn disaster into laughter more often than we think.

Speaking of thinking: I’ve been thinking a lot lately about living with systemic sclerosis and how living with it has been a gift in many ways. The biggest gift: setting boundaries. Throughout most of my life, I was what one could call a doormat. I said yes to just about everything. I would say things like “bring it on, I can handle it.” Everything from doctors treating me poorly to health scares to men raping me to animals making my life miserable to neighbors making my life miserable to employers making my life miserable. I take that all back – none of them “made” my life miserable. They were just being themselves, it was me making myself miserable because I did not know how to create boundaries.

The most recent boundary is not giving money to the Scleroderma Foundation for their annual walk fundraiser. Years ago I would have given them lots of money and volunteered and did whatever I could. But today it makes much more sense for the organization to give ME money. Take the money from the rich and powerful who have much more than they need. I am currently living on less then $10,000 per year which is way below the poverty line.

I’ve learned that my income is just a number. I, in fact, live like a billionaire – or what I would imagine I would live like if I was a billionaire. I have what I need and am able to sleep in and do things I like to do. What do I like to do? Write, walk with Ellie, watch documentaries and films, read and listen to music and podcasts. I also like to meditate, practice qigong, practice yoga and attend free sessions for healing. I also enjoy learning. None of those things require much money.

Having very little income could be viewed as a disaster but I’ve turned it into laughter and joy by releasing the encultured lies our society has conjured up – much like the news turning just about everything into a disaster. Or perhaps not a disaster, but drama designed to trigger chemical imbalances that drive capitalism in favor of the elite.