One thing about life that many people fail to recognize is the delightful absurdity of it. We try really hard to pretend everything is sensible and sane. But, really, the world is a crazy and yet funny place.

More than ten years ago, I realized someone close to me was an alcoholic and had been through treatment. Out-of-character low conversations on the phone and my keen intuition were two clues. The final clue was an 8.5 x 11 piece of paper covered with stickers and a platitude like “Easy Does It” or “One Day At A Time.” It was taped to a wall in this person’s home office.

Another person close to the recovering alcoholic did not know. I might have said something to her about my suspicions but she shrugged off the comments overall.

Then, several years later during a special event, the recovering alcoholic revealed the fact to the small group gathered. The woman who had gently brushed off my suspicions burst into tears and was inconsolable. At every word spoken by the one who had revealed the news, the woman now learning the truth choked out sob after sob and once in a while would painfully utter the name she called the other person. She was devastated by this news.

At one point she glanced at me with eyes red and face streaked with tears. Her eyes narrowed to focus on me better.

What one woman needed after hearing news I had known for ages…

“You’re not even upset. Who are you? Are you made of stone?”

I had known the truth already and, frankly, having it finally revealed seemed not only anti-climactic but a little absurd. Watching the scene unfold in front of me was like watching a play I myself had written. I kind of wanted to laugh, but in an omniscient way like a Greek or Roman god would in a mythic tale.

It’s not the first time I have reacted with bemusement to various situations. But I would be lying if I claimed to be stoic all the time.

I have had many moments in the last three years that seemed so horribly and terribly serious. I viewed disparate issues involving romantic relationships and jobs as though the world had ended. I have paced, wrung my hands, sobbed alone in my apartment, and I suppose I nearly wailed. I actually went through a period when I imagined my life was going to mirror Fantine, the hopelessly tragic character from Les Miserables.

But last winter, I worked incredibly hard to exit the Land of the Serious and enter the Land of the Absurd and Everything Is Going to Be Okay.

The world, as I suspect you have noticed, is a crazy place. But it does not have to be tragic. You will, more than likely, not end up like Fantine nor is the end of a romance or a job going to end your life. And just in general, stop taking your marriages and workplaces so seriously.

Surviving does not involve sorting it all out with perfect clarity and tracking down the one true source of logic. It involves learning to accept the endlessly absurd and glorious nature of life.

Your sense of humor is your greatest source of light.