Shower Laughter: Remembering That Play Is Sacred Too

The Day the Showerhead Won

It started as a photoshoot.

You know the kind… beautiful lighting, lush Bali villa, white walls, tropical greenery, a photographer friend I adore, and that familiar excitement of creative collaboration.

I wanted to capture something sensual, something alive. A mix of softness and play.

The space was stunning, every corner a backdrop calling to be explored. And of course, when I saw the bathroom, with its moody tiles and open-air shower, I thought, “Let’s do a cheeky white-shirt-in-the-water shot.”

So there I was, pressed against the wall, the water trickling down my shoulders. My friend was in the opposite corner, camera in one hand, shower hose in the other.

I tilted my head. The camera clicked.

And then, without warning, she turned the shower straight onto my face.

Eyes. Mouth. Hair. Full blast.

I shrieked. She laughed. Then I laughed so hard I couldn’t breathe.

That image, head thrown back, mouth open in mid-laughter, wasn’t staged. It was pure, ridiculous joy.

The kind that bubbles up when life surprises you.

The Kind of Therapy You Can’t Schedule

There’s something holy about those moments that break our seriousness.
The ones that remind us:

Oh right, I’m human.

I spend so much of my life holding space for emotion.
For grief. For sensuality. For transformation.

But that day, my body remembered something even simpler: that laughter is also a form of healing.

It’s like my inner child kicked the adult out of the driver’s seat and said, “My turn.”

And she was right.

Because as soon as I stopped fighting the chaos of it, the water, the spluttering, the smudged makeup, I could feel something else moving underneath: release.

Not the polished kind. Not the kind you get from meditation or breathwork.

The messy, loud, absurd kind.

The kind that shakes energy loose from the corners of your body where you’ve been holding too much “being good.”

The Body’s Language of Laughter

It’s funny, quite literally, how often laughter arrives when the body finally feels safe.

You know those moments after crying where you start giggling uncontrollably?
That’s your nervous system recalibrating.

The release of adrenaline. The wave of oxytocin.
The body remembering: Oh, it’s okay now. I can let go.

We think we laugh because something’s funny. But sometimes, we laugh because something inside us has finally unclenched.

That Bali shower moment became my reminder of that.

A snapshot of how play and embodiment aren’t opposites. They’re dance partners.

Adulting Is Overrated

Running a business, holding sessions, answering messages, writing, travelling… it’s easy to get tight. To forget the parts of myself that are messy and mischievous.

The parts that spill instead of strategise.

The truth is, structure is beautiful… but without play, it becomes brittle.

So these days, when something goes wrong, a delay, a tech issue, a spill, a miscommunication, I let myself feel it first.

I groan. I curse. I stick out my tongue.
And then… the laughter comes.

It’s like my body says, “Okay, drama’s over. Time to play.”

That, to me, is emotional intelligence.
Not perfection, not positivity.

But the ability to move through it all… fully.

Children Knew the Secret All Along

Watch any child and you’ll see it.

They cry, scream, throw something, then five minutes later they’re giggling again.
No story. No shame. No tension.

They know emotion is meant to move.

Somewhere along the way, we learned to hold it in. To stay polite. To stay composed.
But the body never signed that contract.

The body still wants to howl, to stomp, to laugh so hard that the tears roll down and you forget what started it all.

That’s what embodiment really is: not just sensual awareness. Not just mindful presence, but freedom.

Freedom to let the full range of life move through you.

The Wisdom of Silliness

That day in the shower reminded me that silliness is sacred.

Laughter is medicine.

It reconnects us with innocence… the raw, spontaneous essence that doesn’t care about being spiritual or sexy or “on brand.”

It’s the reminder that you can be both priestess and fool, healer and mess, sacred and soaked.

Because truthfully, every laugh is a surrender.

It’s a breath saying, “I release control.”

And in that moment, you’re closer to the divine than you think.

Your Practice: Laugh On Purpose

Here’s something to try the next time life feels heavy:

Find a private moment.
Stick out your tongue.
Growl. Groan. Make a ridiculous sound.

Then laugh, even if it feels fake at first.
Laugh big. Loud. Ugly.

Notice how your body responds.

Because laughter isn’t just joy, it’s energy moving. It’s breath expanding. It’s you choosing life again.

The Sacred and the Silly Belong Together

If you ever find yourself in a moment of absurdity… tripping over your yoga mat, spilling your coffee, being ambushed by a showerhead, let it become part of your practice.

Because in those moments, the body isn’t asking you to fix anything.

It’s inviting you to feel everything.

To release through joy, not just tears.
To remember that play is prayer too.

So here’s to sacred silliness.
To laughter as medicine.
And to the moments that remind us, we don’t need to try so hard to be “spiritual.”

We just need to stay alive to the pulse of life itself.

Because these unexpected moments in life… they bring you back into presence.
And presence is where everything begins.

Much love,

K xx