There’s something magical about Monty Python’s Life of Brian. Amid the absurdity and silliness lies a nugget of profound wisdom delivered through a jaunty tune: “Always look on the bright side of life.” It’s cheeky, irreverent, and yet surprisingly effective—especially when life starts feeling a bit like a poorly scripted farce.
Recently, I found myself humming this tune during a particularly challenging time in my life. For context: I’ve been navigating the emotional labyrinth of settling a family estate. Grief, anger, exhaustion—oh, and a touch of drama—have made regular appearances, as if starring in their own soap opera. It’s a situation ripe for despair, but instead, I found myself asking: What would Richard (my late brother)…or the universe…do? (Yes, I know they’re not the same person, but hey, humour helps!)
The answer came not in a profound voice from the heavens but as that familiar Monty Python line, clear as day. And I laughed—because sometimes, the simplest wisdom comes wrapped in humour.
The Bright Side Doesn’t Mean Ignoring the Hard Stuff
Let’s get one thing straight: looking on the bright side isn’t about ignoring pain, grief, or anger. These emotions are valid, even necessary. They tell us we’re alive, human, and deeply connected to what matters. But holding on to them like prized possessions? That’s where things get tricky.
I realized this when I found myself consumed by anger. It wasn’t even my own anger—I’d borrowed it from other family members still processing their grief. Without realizing it, I had let their pain become mine, dragging me down like a poorly tailored emotional cloak. I wasn’t living by Richard’s values of kindness and patience; I was a ball of resentment.
Anger, frustration, and sadness are natural responses to grief and life’s challenges. They demand to be felt, but they don’t have to set up camp and stay forever. What looking on the bright side really means is allowing those feelings to pass through without overstaying their welcome. It’s about choosing how long we let the shadows darken our days.
Giving It Back: A Strategy for Letting Go
In a moment of stillness, I did something simple but transformative. I sat down, closed my eyes, and imagined giving back the emotions that didn’t belong to me.
- Anger? Returned to sender.
- Frustration? Packaged up with love and sent on its way.
It wasn’t mine to carry, and honestly, I didn’t want it. This wasn’t about ignoring what was happening but about refusing to let it pull me under.
Then, I did something unexpected: I surrounded everyone involved in white light—not to fix or change them, but to wish them peace and healing. This small act of visualization allowed me to reclaim my energy and refocus on what I could control: my own thoughts and actions.
It reminded me of something I’d read once: you don’t have to attend every argument you’re invited to. I realized I could step back without stepping away entirely—choosing compassion over control and peace over anger.
Finding Gratitude Amid Chaos
It’s funny how, even in the most overwhelming moments, gratitude has a way of sneaking in. It doesn’t demand perfection or grand gestures; sometimes, it shows up as small, quiet blessings.
For me, it looked like this:
- Grateful for my brother’s legacy. Richard was a kind, patient soul, and remembering that helped me realign with his spirit.
- Grateful for humor. Without it, I might have been stuck in a loop of anger and frustration. The ability to laugh—even at life’s absurdity—can feel like a lifeline.
- Grateful for perspective. Sometimes, stepping back and finding the bright side isn’t just an act of optimism; it’s an act of rebellion against life’s chaos.
What Would Richard (or the universe) Do?
I’ve often wondered what my brother would say if he saw the chaos left behind. Richard, ever the patient listener, would probably tell me to breathe, be kind, and let go of what isn’t mine to carry. “You don’t have to fix everything,” he’d say, with a quiet smile.
Humor, like the Monty Python anthem, is part of that wisdom. It doesn’t fix the hard stuff, but it makes it lighter to carry. There’s something deeply healing about being able to laugh at life’s absurdity—to whistle a little tune in the middle of the storm.
A Call to Let Go (And a Whistle)
Life can be messy, overwhelming, and downright unfair. But when the world seems like it’s conspiring against you, sometimes the best thing you can do is whistle a little tune, shake off what isn’t yours, and look for that bright side—even if it’s just a sliver of light through a crack in the chaos.
So, if you find yourself in a similar spot, take a deep breath and ask yourself:
- Whose emotions am I carrying?
- What can I let go of right now?
- And maybe—just maybe—hum a little Monty Python.
Because life is a laugh, and death is a joke, it’s true. So why not whistle along?
