A 40-Day Laughter Challenge: What laughter revealed about commitent, learning curves, service, and keeping my word

I thought a 40-day laughter challenge would help me spread laughter in the world while stregthening my own laughter habit. I’d be demonstrating that a daily practice of laughter is doable even when it’s imperfect.

What I didn’t expect was how clearly it would reveal my relationship with planning and follow-through—especially when the habit depends on a skill set I’m still learning.

On December 1st, I declared on camera (via Instagram) that I was beginning a 40-Day Laughter Challenge—to finish the year and enter the new year with joyful laughter. For the first few days, I showed up. I laughed. I posted. I was on a roll.

Then I missed a day.

Two days later, I went back on camera and quoted James Clear’s reminder about habit change: never miss twice. That intention carried me forward—for a short while. And then I missed again.

What caught my attention wasn’t the lapse itself, but the story I started telling myself afterward.

Because here’s the honest truth:I was laughing.

I laughed during Zoom sessions.

I laughed with my granddaughter.

I laughed with my husband.

I was generating joyful laughter.

What wasn’t consistent was sharing it publicly—and not because I was uncomfortable laughing on camera.

What got in my way was remembering to do it on camera every day and the mechanics of posting.

When the Challenge Isn’t the Habit

This experience helped me see something clearly: this wasn’t resistance, and it wasn’t fear of being seen.

It was about not having made a clear plan. It was about not yet being fluent in a skill I need to rely on.

I had made a commitment, to post every day. I had also committed to go to bed before midnight. I couldn’t first remember my commitment to laugh on camera at 11: 45 pm and think it would be done quickly.

I’m still learning the mechanics of posting—moving a video from my phone, to my computer, into Instagram, and doing it smoothly and efficiently. I still don’t know if it’s better to post my laugh as a story, a reel, or a regular post. I wish I knew which was strategically better to increase views and engagement. I could use the trial and error method, or I could reach for guidance. I know little about hashtags, shares, and comments. Each step requires attention, patience, and more time than anticipated (which inevitably adds stress).

What surprised me most was noticing my own impatience with myself. A nagging belief that I should be better at this by now. That if I’m going to rely on a skill, I ought to already be proficient. I also noticed that to be successful and minimize the stress, I will need to start much earlier in the day. But that’s not how learning works.

Sometimes the hardest part of a habit isn’t the new behavior itself—it’s everything that surrounds it. Especially when it asks us to practice a skill before we feel confident or competent.

Choosing to Honor My Word

Rather than letting my promise quietly slip away, I chose to pause and reflect.

I want to honor my word—to you and to myself.

I want to finish the year laughing and begin the next one the same way.

Laughter is not just something I teach—it’s something that has changed me. Through leading laughter sessions, developing a daily laughter habit, and writing Discover the Power of Laughter: Jump-Start Your Journey to Health and Joy, my outlook has become more positive, more grateful, more up-beat, and more light-hearted.

This challenge reminded me that growth doesn’t always come from trying harder. Sometimes it comes from recognizing where patience, structure, and kindness toward myself is needed—especially while I’m still learning.

Lessons This Challenge Is Teaching Me

1. Planning matters—doubly when learning a new skill.Good intentions aren’t enough. A habit needs a clear structure. James Clear calls this a planned habit: I will do X at time Y in Z location.

I realized I hadn’t fully accounted for the time and energy required for the entire process—not just the part I enjoy.

It made me ask:

Where am I relying on good intentions instead of a clear, workable plan?

2. Learning curves deserve compassion.Relying on a skill before I feel fluent is frustrating. It’s easy to confuse that frustration with failure. I didn’t fail at this challenge, I pushed pause to determine how I wanted to structure the restart and how I can set myself up for success.

New skills take repetition. Impatience slows me down. Regular practice will lead to mastery.

I had to ask myself:

What would it look like to treat learning this skill the same way I treat learning any new habit—with curiosity instead of judgment?  The way I encourage someone to try laughing out loud for the first time without humor  is to be curious like a child, full of wonder, and a playful mindset.

3. The habit is bigger than the action.This challenge isn’t really about laughter videos. It’s about integrity. About being the kind of person who keeps her word—and who is willing to adjust with honesty rather than quit quietly.

It’s about choosing joyful laughter as a practice, not just a feeling.

It’s about maintaining my authenticity. Being real.

That led me to reflect:

What identity am I reinforcing with my daily choices?

Am I someone with a good plan and strong follow-up or someone with a good idea that fades fast?

4. It’s easier to show up in service of others than just for myself.

While this challenge is rooted in personal lintegrity, I’m learning how much more consistent I am  when I know my effort is serving someone else.

When someone comments on a post, shares it, or tells me it made them smile, it reminds me that the laughter is doing what I set out to do. That feedback matters, not as validation, but as connection. It lets me know I’m not laughing into the void. I’m spreading something life-giving.

Service helps ensure follow-through.

Being reminded that my laughter mades a difference helps me show up again.

It led me to ask myself:

Who benefits when I follow through — and who misses out when I don’t?

A Renewed Commitment

Here is my renewed promise—to myself and to you: For the next 40 days:

• I will laugh every morning in or around my home before noon.

• On Saturdays, I will laugh before 10:00 p.m.

• I will post the video (either on Instagram or YouTube) within two hours of filming, allowing for grace when the mechanics of posting—or life—take longer than expected.

  
  

Each post will include laughter, a few reflections, and an invitation for you to share your own. Because laughter grows when it’s shared—and so does patience.

An Invitation

As always, you are invited to join me FREE every Tuesday morning on Zoom for 15 minutes of laughter. Sarah has a FREE Laughter call on Mondays for 15 minutes. We have also started a FREE monthly Birthday Club, where our community gathers on Zoom to celebrate birthdays with 45 minutes of shared laughter. Friends are welcome. Joy multiplies.

Details for joining is found at https://www.discoverthepoweroflaughter.com/about-the-authors

If you want to do a deeper dive into how to create your laughter habit, read chapter 9 of our book, Establish a Laughter Habit. You can buy our book here: DiscoverThePowerOfLaughter.com in print, audio , ebook and pdf.

On the site you’ll also find links to Laughter Game videos.

A Final Reflection for You

As you read this, I invite you to pause and ask yourself:

• What promise have I made that still matters to me?

• Where might I be learning a skill—and expecting mastery too soon?

  What structure or support would help me follow through with more ease?

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Feel free to share your thoughts in the comments below. Thank you for walking alongside me. Here’s to laughter, learning, and beginning again—one joyful laugh at a time. 😊