Recently, my 9-year-old son noticed that I was pouring cashew milk in my coffee. With a curious look, he asked, \u201cMom, how do you milk a cashew?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWith tiny fingers!\u201d I replied. This evoked a burst of laughter<\/a> and more importantly, a bonding<\/a> moment.<\/p>\n Creating humor<\/a> is a mood-lifting activity, even when I keep my jokes to myself. In fact, not having the pressure to perform to others\u2019 expectations is part of what makes humor therapeutic for me. <\/p>\n Not long ago, I read Humor Me: How Laughing More Can Make You Present, Creative, Connected and Happy,<\/a> by comedic writer Chris Duffy. Duffy presents research as well as interviews with physicians, psychologists, and activists that converge to reveal the power of humor in promoting health, well-being, and social connection. He also draws from his own experiences, which are the funniest parts of the book. <\/p>\n Literal Thinking and Its Impact on Humor <\/p>\n Duffy\u2019s work inspired me to reflect on how humor has helped me cope with literal thinking. Literal thinking<\/a> is a neurodivergent trait that can emerge from trouble with processing cues that someone is using irony or a metaphor instead of meaning exactly what they say. <\/p>\n Decades later, my early literal-thinking moments still haunt me. I remember a time in middle school when a classmate pointed out something about genes<\/a>. I immediately looked down at the pants I was wearing. The bewildered look on his face made me realize he was referring to \u201cgenes\u201d with a \u201cg.\u201d <\/p>\n Little did I know at the time that literal humor had the potential to become a hotbed for creativity<\/a>. <\/p>\n According to humor expert Lois McElravy<\/a>, literal humor is the art of amusing others by responding to figurative language in a way that conveys its literal meaning. Here\u2019s one of McElravy\u2019s examples: \u201cCan you spare a minute? (I think I might have one minute available next Thursday at 8 a.m.)\u201d (para. 7). <\/p>\n Research suggests that neurodivergence can be conducive to humor, such as one study<\/a> showing that restricted interests and repetitive behaviors in autistic<\/a> individuals were positively associated with appreciating the kind of humor that is used in wordplay or puns\u2014e.g. \u201cI\u2019m inclined to be laid back.\u201d<\/a><\/p>\n The Role of Humor in Emotion Regulation <\/p>\n Researchers have also noted that humor can bolster emotion regulation<\/a> in both neurodivergent<\/a> and neurotypical<\/a> individuals. Early in my career<\/a> as a clinical psychologist, I learned that playing with language in fun, idiosyncratic ways helped children engage in therapy<\/a> sessions and connect with me. Instead of saying, \u201cTell me about your week,\u201d or \u201cHow are you feeling?\u201d my clients and I created alternate labels for these routine questions: \u201cketchup\u201d meant \u201ccatching up\u201d and \u201cchicken nuggets\u201d meant checking in about feelings. <\/p>\n The silly nature of these labels betrayed a deeper meaning. In a subtle but powerful way, the funny phrases allowed us to celebrate cognitive quirks rather than see them as deficits.<\/p>\n This sentiment is exemplified by Hannah Gadsby, a brilliant comedian who was diagnosed with autism in their 40s. Gadsby sprinkles literal humor throughout their stand-up performances. <\/p>\n They talk about a childhood lesson<\/a> on prepositions when their teacher asked the class to imagine a box and defined a preposition as \u201ca word that explains your relationship to the box\u201d (59:52). Gadsby asked if the box had a name: \u201cI thought if the box had a name, I could work out how we were related\u201d (60:59-61:02).<\/p>\n Gadsby\u2019s teacher responded sharply, \u201cYou are being deliberately obtuse,\u201d to which Gadsby replied, “But I\u2019m not a triangle\u201d (64:21-64:24). Their teacher didn\u2019t appreciate the comment. Gadsby went on to turn their literal thinking into a comedy superpower. <\/p>\n As Chris Duffy\u2019s guidance shows, comedy can be meaningful not only as entertainment, but for personal well-being as well. I often find myself adapting his guidance for using literal humor as a mood booster.<\/p>\n 1. Wait for the sting to subside<\/p>\n Duffy cautions that sometimes, people need validation more than a good laugh. <\/p>\n Finding a funny twist to literal-thinking moments is easier when your emotions are less intense, rather than when you are feeling embarrassed or hurt. So you might want to take a beat, process the situation, and self-soothe before introducing comedy. Think of it this way: if coping skills are a recipe for better mental health, humor is the seasoning. It can enhance coping while not being the main course.<\/p>\n 2. Learn from the best<\/p>\n Duffy recommends watching professional comics and writing down things you find funny so you can reference them in the future. Listening to others\u2019 humor, including literal humor, can help you get better at creating humor out of your own literal thinking moments.<\/p>\n 3. Keep flexible masking and unmasking in mind<\/p>\n Duffy advocates for moderation in using humor. For example, he warns that excessively making jokes can make it harder for people to get to know you. He also explores how self-derogatory humor can be harmful in certain contexts, like when it is directed at an aspect of yourself about which you might feel insecure, such as looks or likability.<\/p>\n From the perspective of neurodivergence, using humor as a coping tool might seem like a form of masking<\/a>, or suppressing behaviors that show your true self, but might also incur judgment from neurotypical people. Excessive masking<\/a> can lead to burnout<\/a> and other negative mental health outcomes. <\/p>\n