I’ve been meditating for almost nine months, and I’ve noticed that my voice has changed. It’s not as tense. My speech is slower.

I’m no saint. Or monk, for that matter. I do still get angry at my husband. And yet…”Have you noticed that I don’t yell at you anymore?” I asked him today.

“Yes,” he said simply. “I’ve noticed that.”

And he keeps telling me how funny I am. We’ve been together for more than 30 years. Most of them fantastic as well as funny. But since my mother’s diagnosis, I’ve felt a heaviness that now seems to be lifting a bit. “Do you think I can say that meditation has made me funny again?” I asked Jimmy.

“Yes,” he replied, smiling.

I had worried that all this meditation would turn me into a somber monk. Fortunately I seem to be happy. Like “my monk” Yongey Mingyur Rinpoche, whose books each contain the word “Joy.”