To be jolly is to always be on the edge of laughter. What an incredible disposition, the prevailing tendency of one’s spirit, to live on the verge of merriment and amusement.
There is an easiness that rests inside the eyes, allowing the world and all its idiosyncracies to enter more freely. By the time it tickles your heart, your lips have already been curled in waiting, and welcome now with a grin, the smallest details that trigger a giggle. Sitting in church with siblings might have this effect.
To be on the edge is a dual responsibility, with the power to uphold and release limits, and it is the latter we desire most. Whatever it is we are holding – expectations of how to be – are transmuted into the reality of who we actually are. In a single laugh, we free ourselves from the seriousness of falling short or far surpassing a future state; instead we are grounded in the belly laugh of right now.
Laughter is a full body exercise. Air from the lungs bursts forth audibly from the mouth, whether it is a series of quiet chuckles or a loud HA! Sometimes there is a knee-slap involved. Your eyes may crinkle or even cry, or you might feel the urge to put a hand to your mouth, but don’t be shy – let those cheeks hurt from showing your teeth for so long. A natural face lift, my beauty.
To be jolly then, is simply the readiness to express joy.