This week’s question comes from Gregory Stock’s thought-provoking collection, The Book of Questions: When is the last time you really laughed at yourself? What was so funny?

You know what’s interesting about this particular question? The timing of it landing in front of me this week feels almost cosmic. Because as I sit here trying to recall the last time I genuinely laughed at myself, I’m realizing something profound – I can’t remember. And that realization tells me more about where I am in life right now than any specific memory of laughter could.

Throughout most of my life, I’ve been the kind of person who rarely takes himself too seriously. I’m typically the first one to crack up at my own verbal stumbles, physical clumsy moments, or those times when I catch myself dozing off during a particularly monotonous meeting. Those little human moments that remind us we’re all perfectly imperfect? They’ve always been a source of amusement for me.

But lately? Those same moments that would normally trigger a good-natured chuckle at my own expense are more likely to draw out a frustrated sigh. And that shift says everything about the weight of the stress and anxiety I’m currently carrying.

Like so many Americans right now, I find myself navigating through a period of profound uncertainty. My professional future feels like it’s balanced on a tightrope, with the next six months holding more questions than answers. Every trip to the grocery store becomes an exercise in mental mathematics as I watch prices climb while my paycheck remains frozen in time. The gap between those who have and those who have not grows into a chasm, and I find myself wondering which side of that divide I’ll end up on.

The political landscape doesn’t offer much comfort either. With the return of familiar faces to positions of power and their iron grip on our nation’s key institutions, the future feels increasingly uncertain for those of us who once considered ourselves comfortably middle class. Each new policy, each new decision seems carefully crafted to widen the economic divide, making even the concept of living paycheck to paycheck feel like an increasingly distant dream for many.

Under the weight of all this, those small moments that used to make me laugh at myself have lost their lightness. When you’re constantly calculating how to stretch your budget, a stumble becomes less amusing and more irritating. When you’re worried about your professional future, dozily nodding off in a meeting feels less humorous and more anxiety-inducing.

But here’s the thing – recognizing this loss of laughter has become its own kind of wake-up call. The absence of something can sometimes highlight its importance more clearly than its presence ever could. My current inability to easily laugh at myself isn’t a permanent change in who I am; it’s a symptom of the stress I’m under. It’s a temporary state, even if it doesn’t always feel that way.

I have to believe that my natural inclination toward self-directed humor isn’t gone – it’s just on hold. It’s waiting in the wings for some of this weight to lift, for some of these uncertainties to resolve themselves. Because the ability to laugh at ourselves isn’t just about finding humor in our mistakes or awkward moments – it’s about maintaining perspective, about remembering that we’re all human, all imperfect, all stumbling through life doing the best we can.

So while I may not have a recent moment of self-directed laughter to share, maybe that’s okay. Maybe this question has served an even more valuable purpose by making me aware of what’s missing. It’s reminded me that when we lose our ability to laugh at ourselves, it might be a sign that we’re carrying too much. And perhaps, just perhaps, recognizing that is the first step toward finding our way back to lighter moments.

In the meantime, I’m holding onto the knowledge that somewhere beneath all this stress and anxiety, there’s still a person who can trip over his own feet and find it hilarious. He’s just taking a brief intermission while dealing with some pretty heavy stuff. And that’s okay too.

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What about you? When was the last time you really laughed at yourself? And if you’re finding it hard to remember, like me, what might that be telling you about where you are in your life right now?