About a year ago, I had a ceremony.
It was my last night in LA after seven years—a goodbye to a chapter of my life.
I left my place at 9 pm with a bundle of flowers, and went to five spots that meant a lot to me.
At each stop, I let the memories come up, the tears flow, and placed down a flower.
By midnight I was done.
Before returning home, I decided to take one last walk down Abbott Kinney Blvd, the street where so many of our videos were filmed.
It was quiet—just a few passersby, some cars, and me with my thoughts.
You’d think that in a moment like that I would be reminiscing about the big moments: the adventures, the parties, the successes.
But only one memory came up.
It was of me and my friends in our living room, years ago.
We were laughing.
Heaving laughing.
Laughing to the point where I was sure I was going to pass out.
We were playing this game called Discomfort which is kind of like improv. And I remember just hitting my feet on the floor because I couldn’t contain it.
That night, that scene, played over in my mind all the way home.
But I wasn’t surprised.
I’ve done this before.
When I left Montreal, the same thing happened…I visited a few places, flowers in hand, and in the end, one moment stood out…my friend and I, in my studio, laughing until we couldn’t breathe.
How interesting that out of all the experiences, laughter was the one that stuck out each time.
In the health and wellness world, we obsess over optimization. The seven and half hours of sleep, morning sunlight, hydration, exercise, nutrition, productivity.
All of that’s great.
I’m a fan of those things.
But I’m not a fan of leaving laughter out of the equation.
Laughter isn’t just a bonus…it’s essential.
Science agrees. It reduces stress, boosts immunity, increases resilience, relieves pain, and even gives you a nice lil’ ab workout.
But more importantly, laughter is what we remember.
Because when we laugh—those big belly laughs, those hearty, holy shit I can’t breathe laughs—we are free.
Time stops.
We’re fully present.
A great ten minute laugh is equivalent to three years of meditation. You can quote me on that.
It’s pure stillness, pure joy. A reset. A reminder that none of this is serious.
Now, before bed, I make sure I had at least one good laugh that day.
If I didn’t, I adjust.
Because a life without a consistent cackle isn’t a life worth living.
When I look back on my time on this Earth, I know that those howling moments with my friends will resurface like old songs.
And when they do, I’ll get to hum those tunes.
To smile with gratitude.
Maybe even chuckle a little.
Because I’ll know that in those moments, I was free.
Love,
Matt
PS - Today officially marks the one year anniversary of the release of Talk To Strangers. SO, for 24 hours we’re doing half off all copies, including signed ones :)
PPS - Since I’m in the gift givin’ mood, here is an unreleased podcast I did last year with my friends Colin and Samir. It’s honestly one of the best conversations I’ve ever had. If you’re wanting to chase a dream or find your purpose, this is a must listen.
Kk I’m done. Bye. <3