Recently my aunt died. Her youngest daughter, my cousin, did the eulogy. It was brilliant. It genuinely had everything: pathos, love and above all…humour. My aunt was always welcoming and quick to see the funny side of life. Her children inherited those gifts. The eulogy painted a picture of a lady I realized I barely knew. She was always ‘Aunty Joan’ but underneath that loving, welcoming and humorous exterior was an intellectual powerhouse who never stopped learning and embracing every opportunity she encountered.

My mum, often quotes mark Twain: comedy is tragedy plus time. It’s true. At the time something goes wrong it feels like your whole world has collapsed. But over time and as the camera slowly pans back you get to see the situation in a wider perspective and then humour takes over. It’s as if when the chimp brain has occupied centre stage with wailing and gnashing of teeth the human brain has a chance to show the chimp brain the wider perspective. Mum’s at that age when she and my dad are mostly getting invitations to funerals. Humour always accompanies the sadness and makes it all a little more bearable. She was telling me the other day how something tickled her and she had to work hard to suppress the giggles. There is so much emotion coursing through the body at these events. On that occasion one of the bereaved daughters noticed my mum’s suppressed mirth and was secretly pleased as it gave her a welcome distraction.

One of my favourite expressions, a quote from William James, is “A sense of humour is common sense dancing”. I genuinely believe you have to have a much wider perspective to be able to laugh at and with a situation. A friend of mine is currently at the military staff college. He mentioned to me something that I’ve thought for a long time: that you can read all the newspaper column inches and internet ‘news’ items you like but comedies like Yes Minister and Yes Prime Minister make it much easier to understand the machinations in Whitehall. I’ve heard countless very serious civil servants claim that it’s not how it works. But they speak as if they are so ‘down in the weeds’ they can’t appreciate the bigger picture.

Brexit is a classic. The suits have dismissed much of the debate amongst the proletariat as ‘ill-informed pub gossip’. How come, then, with all their information and superior intellect, politicians are so sharply divided into remain and leave camps.

The military is the same. Many a senior officer will look at you over a patronizing brow and suggest that ‘you don’t understand the pressures’. Clearly there’s a lot of fine detail but, as books like Losing Small Wars by Frank Ledgewith, Lions, Donkeys and Dinosaurs by Lewis Page and even Thinking Fast and Slow by Daniel Kahneman show, nearly all ‘big’ decisions are influenced by kindergarten politics.

Many years ago a friend of the family suggested that I might not progress as far as, perhaps, I could. “Why not?” I asked. “You’re too much of a joker,” she replied. I was shocked. I don’t ‘play’ jokes or lark around. “You often make light of a situation,” she said, “and that will upset a lot of people.”

I’ve listened to myself since. I do make light of most situations but it’s not for want of ‘seriousness’. Most situations, when seen with the benefit of time and wider perspective can be a bit ridiculous. If adding an element of humour to a discussion can help people gain a different perspective on the situation then that discussion will be far more fruitful. However, the inner chimp wants us to be serious. I’ve sat in plenty of meetings when people seem to be trying to impress the senior person present by trumping their colleagues. It seems that risk the favoured line of attack is to generate the biggest potential risk: “what if…and…” etc.

You know when the Dalai Lama has entered a room. First a reverent hush then a ripple of infectious laughter. He may be in his early 80s but ‘he is still sprightly’. He chuckles regularly. This is evident from many of the books about him and his philosophy. It’s a very simple philosophy: our biggest desire is to be happy. He can ask incisive questions of his interviewers probing their own seriousness. This is not to say he is not a serious man. The training and self denial to become a Buddhist monk is ‘no laughing matter’.

As a final offering may I present the many ‘comedy’ actors who have successfully turned their hand to serious theatre? It would seem that few serious actors have been able to make the transition the other way. The likes of Eric Morecambe, Stan Laurel, Victoria Wood and, as has been demonstrated so vividly and sadly, Ant McPartlin took and take their roles very seriously. Appreciating the humour in life is a very real skill few are blessed with.

I have found whilst teaching flying that one of the best ways to improve a student’s performance is to get him to smile. When they start to enjoy what they’re doing their confidence soars and their flying is in a different league. If you’d like to find out more look at the Inflow Performance website, the Facebook page or the Breaking Free group or simply drop me a line. I look forward to hearing from you.