“A little nonsense now and then is relished by the wisest men.” – Willy Wonka

Last Halloween, my beard became part of a bit. I dressed as Gene Frenkel, Will Ferrell’s iconic SNL cowbell character. To make it work, I dyed my beard from salt-and-pepper to nut brown.

It worked. And it was fun.

As I leaned into the character, really exploring the space, baby, I started playing with the idea of “More Cowbell for Parkinson’s.” Parkinson’s showed up uninvited in our lives, so why not show up louder, funnier, and more human in response?

Too often, Parkinson’s is presented only through decline and jargon-heavy neuroscience. While real, that version can make the whole subject feel distant and unapproachable.

Humor, on the other hand, opens doors. It lets people step into difficult conversations without being overwhelmed. Sometimes it takes someone willing to play the fool so others can feel a little lighter and find their way into understanding what life with Parkinson’s truly involves.

In the early days of Yes, And…eXercise! (YAX), our nonprofit was still finding its footing. Cinema Therapy and improv classes weren’t obvious solutions for people navigating diagnosis, caregiving, and uncertainty. We were experimenting, building on research from my doctoral work, and learning how storytelling, improv, music, and movement might help people reconnect with confidence and community.

And then something powerful began to happen: people rediscovered confidence and agency after diagnosis. Friendships formed in class. Care partners found space to breathe again. Creativity and connection weren’t luxuries after all; they were essential tools for living well.

Humor opens doors. Time passes. Beards grow. And life deepens.

These days, my beard is longer and much more blanco. Friends joke that I’ve entered my Gandalf phase – the White Wizard era. Less chaos, more perspective. YAX has grown the same way.

What started as experimentation has become a community filled with Success Stories™. We still bring humor into rooms where fear often lives. We still bang the cowbell when needed. But we also sit quietly with people navigating loss, uncertainty, and change. We help people explore, discover, and share their stories. And we remind each other that we’re still here, still capable of creativity, connection, and renewal.

Parkinson’s is serious. It changes lives. It affects families. It demands resilience in ways few conditions do.

But seriousness does not mean joy must disappear.

One of the lessons I’ve learned, somewhere between cowbell chaos and wizardly calm, is that humor and gravity thrive side by side. You can laugh and still honor the difficulty. You can joke and still hold space for grief. You can be silly one moment and deeply compassionate the next.

That balance may be exactly what keeps us human.

The beard tells the story if you look closely. It started as a performance, playful and external. Over time, it became lived-in. Earned. Maybe scruffier, but also more authentic.

YAX has followed a similar path. We started by asking, “What if we tried this?” Now we ask, “How can we serve even more people?”

Beards change. Organizations grow. Communities deepen.

And while none of us would have chosen Parkinson’s as part of the journey, the community built in response to it has become something powerful; full of courage, creativity, compassion, and yes, laughter.

Maybe the lesson is this: Start where you are. Show up as you can. Grow into who and what you’re becoming. When something monstrous appears (e.g. a Balrog), sometimes you need more cowbell to knock it off your path. And sometimes, you need the quiet wisdom of the White Wizard to remind you you’re not walking alone.

Join us for our Jam for Joy improvisation or Cinema Therapy storytelling classes.

They're convenienty online and they're open to everyone.