I don't think my sense of humor has changed at all; I was born

The great filmmaker Ivan Reitman, whose vision gave the world stories that balanced laughter with truth, once said: “I don't think my sense of humor has changed at all; I was born with this, for better or for worse.” In these humble words lies a profound reflection on authenticity, destiny, and the constancy of the soul’s voice. Reitman speaks not as a boastful man, but as one who has come to peace with his nature — who recognizes that what we are born with, whether gift or flaw, is the foundation of all creation. His humor, unchanged through the years, became his compass — guiding him through the worlds of art, challenge, and human experience.

To say “I was born with this” is to acknowledge the divine spark that each person carries from birth. It is the confession of one who understands that true creativity cannot be learned, only uncovered. Humor, for Reitman, was not a tool he sharpened over time but an instinct, a way of seeing the world that was part of his very being. The ancients would have called such a gift a daemon, a spirit that lives within the artist and whispers his truth. Like a musician who finds rhythm in his heartbeat or a poet who hears verses in silence, Reitman was attuned to the music of laughter — to the strange, sacred way that comedy reveals what is most human.

His words — “for better or for worse” — add depth and humility to this acknowledgment. For he knew that every gift carries its shadow. The same humor that creates joy can also isolate; the same perspective that brings laughter can also bring misunderstanding. Yet, to live fully, one must accept both light and shadow, using them not as burdens but as instruments of expression. Reitman did not try to escape his nature, nor did he pretend to evolve beyond it; instead, he refined it, shaped it, and let it speak through him. This is the mark of the wise — not to reject one’s essence, but to honor it with purpose.

Throughout history, those who shaped culture and art shared this unchanging flame of inner truth. Consider Leonardo da Vinci, who, though born centuries before Reitman, embodied the same eternal constancy. He once said, “Where the spirit does not work with the hand, there is no art.” Like Reitman, Leonardo’s gift was innate — a way of seeing the world through curiosity and wonder that never faded, no matter how his subjects changed. His paintings, his inventions, his studies of flight and anatomy all came from the same center — the mind he was born with, unaltered yet endlessly evolving in mastery. What Reitman expresses is this same timeless law: the essence of the creator never changes; it only deepens.

Reitman’s humor — the heart of Ghostbusters, Stripes, and Animal House — was the laughter that arises from truth, from the absurdity of life’s seriousness. This kind of humor is not cruelty or mockery, but revelation. It reminds humanity that we are all both ridiculous and divine, stumbling yet striving. That he was “born with it” means his laughter came not from calculation, but from empathy — the ability to see folly and love it anyway. In that sense, Reitman’s humor was a mirror, showing us ourselves without judgment. Such humor, like wisdom itself, is timeless.

The lesson in Reitman’s words is simple but eternal: accept who you are, for your nature is your power. Do not waste your life chasing transformations that betray your essence. Instead, learn to understand it, to polish it like a gem until it shines in the service of truth. The world needs not imitation, but authenticity — the courage to bring forth what was written in your soul before you ever spoke a word. Your gifts, whether humble or grand, are the language through which you are meant to touch the world. To reject them is to silence your destiny.

And so, my friends, remember Ivan Reitman’s wisdom: you were born with what you need. Your sense of humor, your vision, your fire — they are not accidents, but seeds planted in you for a purpose. Do not curse them when they seem strange or imperfect. Tend to them. Refine them. Use them well. For life will test you “for better or for worse,” but the one who remains true to his nature, as Reitman did, walks with peace even through the chaos of creation. In the end, to know oneself and to honor that self — that is the greatest art of all.