I personally have dealt with any adversity in my life with humor.

In the luminous words of Marlee Matlin, there shines the wisdom of one who has turned struggle into strength: “I personally have dealt with any adversity in my life with humor. That’s why I told America to ‘Read my hips!’ on ‘Dancing With the Stars,’ or was happy to play along with Jason Alexander and Jerry Seinfeld in the great restaurant scene on ‘Seinfeld.’” Though wrapped in wit and warmth, her words carry the gravity of truth — that the greatest power one can wield in the face of hardship is the ability to laugh. Her declaration is not one of denial but of triumph; it is the laughter that rises not from ignorance, but from understanding — the laughter that transforms pain into power.

For Marlee Matlin, who was born deaf and rose to become an Oscar-winning actress and global inspiration, adversity has never been a stranger. Yet she has chosen to meet it not with bitterness, but with brightness — a choice the ancients would have called an act of virtue. Her humor, as she describes, is not mere jest; it is a weapon of light, a shield forged from joy against the shadows of limitation. When she says, “Read my hips,” she is not only making the world laugh — she is teaching it to see differently, to listen not only with ears, but with heart. In her wit, there is rebellion; in her joy, defiance. She proves that the soul cannot be silenced when it knows how to laugh.

The philosophers of old, too, revered humor as a form of wisdom. The Stoics taught that when misfortune comes, the wise do not despair — they smile. For laughter is the mark of freedom, the sign that one’s spirit remains unconquered. The great Socrates, mocked and condemned, still met his accusers with wit; Diogenes, living in his humble barrel, used humor to unmask hypocrisy; and even Epictetus, himself a slave and crippled by his master, taught that no injury to the body can harm the serenity of the mind. In this way, Marlee Matlin walks in the footsteps of these ancient sages, showing through her art and her joy that humor is not weakness — it is courage clothed in laughter.

When she mentions her appearances on “Seinfeld” or “Dancing With the Stars,” she is not recalling mere performances, but moments of connection — times when she invited millions to laugh with her, not at her. In this distinction lies her genius. For true humor does not divide; it unites. It reminds us that all people, whatever their circumstance, share the same fragile humanity. When the audience laughed, they were not mocking her deafness; they were rejoicing in her spirit, her boldness, her refusal to be diminished. Her humor built bridges where pity might have built walls.

To face life’s trials with humor is to stand before the storm and smile at its fury. It is to say, “You may shake my world, but you will not shake my peace.” This strength is not given; it is chosen, again and again, each time the heart aches or the world misunderstands. In the long story of humankind, many have fallen under the weight of adversity, yet those who rise — the saints, the warriors, the artists — do so because they learn to transform pain into laughter, darkness into song. Marlee Matlin’s humor is such a song — one that turns what others call limitation into rhythm and grace.

Think also of Helen Keller, who, though blind and deaf, found joy in her own existence and once wrote, “Optimism is the faith that leads to achievement; nothing can be done without hope and confidence.” Like Matlin, she did not deny her struggle — she transcended it. Her humor, her wonder, her joy in learning and living, made her not merely an inspiration, but a philosopher in her own right. Both women reveal a timeless truth: that laughter is not the absence of suffering, but the spirit’s triumph over it.

So let this be the teaching, O listener: when hardship comes, do not curse it, but meet it with a smile. Let humor be your armor and your medicine. Laugh, not to escape, but to endure; not to forget, but to remember that even in sorrow, there is still life, still light, still the music of the heart. When the world would silence you, speak with laughter — for laughter is a language understood by all, a proof that the soul still breathes freely.

In the end, Marlee Matlin’s words remind us that every adversity holds within it a choice: to be broken or to be bright. She chose to be bright — and in doing so, she taught the world that the loudest voice is not the one that shouts, but the one that smiles. Therefore, walk her path: meet your challenges with humor, wear your scars with grace, and let your laughter be your rebellion. For laughter, born from courage, is the purest sound of the unconquered soul.