This week I have been taking an improvisation course (impro), something I have done before, but that I still find so rewarding each time. It generates fascinating insights for me and allows me to see routines that I never knew existed inside of me. These tend to be highly personal, and in some ways rates right up there with therapy for generating insights and new paths forward. I thought I would share with you some of the more generic insights that have come out of my experiences of taking these workshops. They are not an attempt at generating rules for improvisation, just my observations supplanted with a few from the workshop facilitator.
The first would be that we have more fun when we don’t get it right. Impro involves a whole bunch of games, with rules, of agreed ways of playing the game. Part of the fun of the game is setting up rules in a way that means you will almost definitely screw it up at some point. The best part is that when you or others make a mistake, the resounding response is laughter. Everyone breaths a sigh of relief, and the tension in the room noticeably dissipates. It took me a while to realise this, but actually its more fun when we don’t always get it right, if its too easy then we don’t find it challenging, and the game is dull. Too hard and no one wants to play any more. The trick is finding the sweet spot, where people can feel the tension of being uncertain if they will get it right, the feeling of mastery when you do, and laughter and smiles when you stuff it up.
Screwing up gives others permission to not be perfect. When you mess up a game, everyone laughs, and part of this is a group acknowledgement that you are still part of the group, no one is excommunicating you. You still get to play. The reason why I think screwing up releases tension from the room is that everyone sees you fail, and realises nothing terrible happened as a response – and at some deep level they then realise they too have permission to not be perfect. So in some ways failing is a way to lead bravely and show that its ok for others to try, do their best, and that failure is an option.
How you fail in impro probably says a lot about how you fail in other areas of your life. While this is kind of obvious, its rare that we pay much attention to our self talk. Those times when we are failing in real life are stressful, and we are so busy trying to keep it all together and not drop any of the balls in the air that when we fail in normal daily life we don’t have the presence to pay much attention. While in impro you might be failing multiple times in a 10 minute game. This generates the space to stand back and say wait a minute, why am I responding this way. A few typical ways to respond include ‘he hee heee…..look at you try you big goofy idiot’ or ‘grrrrr you’re hopeless…you can’t do anything right…you cant even do this simple game right’ or ‘ ok, come on, get it together, you can do this’ or ‘this is dumb…who wants to do impro anyway’ or ‘it’s the facilitators response he didn’t explain the rules well enough’. This self talk can either be destructive, and reduce your self esteem, or we can find a way to reframe it constructively and look for a positive narrative that can help us play better next time. That positive internal narrative might sound something like ‘ohhhh isn’t that interesting that I didn’t get it right, lets try again’ or ‘hmm interesting, what can I learn from this…’ While our responses tend to be relatively reflexive, we can still garner awareness around them and seek to reframe them after the fact.
When you play a game as a team, what often happens is people begin to get stressed, as they stress out their brain shuts down. As they stand there grasping at the answer - a certain tension builds in the room, everyone leans in ever so slightly, and everyone is hoping the person overcomes the block and manages to land the answer in the milliseconds before it becomes obvious that they messed up. The insight here is that when the pressure is on, generally everyone else out there wants you to succeed. People aren’t conspiring against you in a team, for the most part others want you to come through.
We have better time than we think in most cases. In some games, speed is of the essence, just like in life. Yet in many games speed is not particularly relevant, within reasonable limits. An example is when we create something called a scene. One person starts by acting out an activity, a second person enters the game and can then join in miming the activity, and then name what they are doing. Most people feel pressure to quickly join in the miming and name “correctly” what they are doing. Yet the funniest examples of this game is when people take their time with naming the activity, they just join in miming and for a minute or two nothing gets said before they name what they are doing. Yet taking the time to just be present in the moment of miming silently feels incredibly difficult, we feel a great need to name quickly what’s going on. Person we don’t want to seem dumb in front of others, either way, whatever the underlying reason, the take away is that we often have more time than we think.
Part of playing with others is being a good partner. This means being aware of what you send them in terms of energy and enthusiasm. In playing simple game, like ones that’s called ‘yes, and’ you have to suggest what to bring to a part and the other person replies ‘yes, and’and builds on your original suggestion. Simple enough, but the subtlety lies in how you respond to your partners suggestion. An unenthusiastic ‘yes’ often feels like a tiny reprimand, and your next suggestion ends up being a little less enthusiastic. Yet, a smiling and energy filled ‘YESS!!! AND….” Creates a different response in your partner, they smile a little ore, they lean in just a bit and are a little ore enthusiastic when its their turn again. Generally speaking, I believe that we shouldn’t try to be responsible for others emotional response to events, and trying might be in many ways manipulative. Yet, we shouldn’t pretend this means our impact o others relevant. We can still do our best to turn up and generate the space that allows our partner to respond in the most positive way possible.
In turning up with enthusiasm, and really dialling into the game we find that we have a lot more fun. Nothing is worse than playing impro games with someone who’s not that into it. It saps your energy and your will to continue on. Its an experience though they we often encounter in work situations, having to work with others who actually don’t want to be there. When we meet others who really turn up with energy and enthusiasm is refreshing and contagious. When the other person is enthusiastic it tends to be contagious, where it spreads to all those who come in contact, and suddenly we are smiling and happy ourselves. The interesting part is that al of us can be that enthusiastic person, there is not patent on it. Its an emotional experience that is free to anyone to choose into, and when we choose enthusiasm we have a better time. We enjoy it more, and as mentioned, we create a ripple effect where the positivity spreads to others in the room.
You need to be present to play impro. I am not talking just physically present, I mean you need to be mentally present in the room. Thinking about emails you should send or what you’ll have for dinner doesn’t work. It just doesn’t, in games requiring enthusiasm, listening, connection with others – you simply cannot multitask. The thing is most of our work games require the same qualities of enthusiasm and listening, yet we rarely bring the same level of presence. We often are juggling so many different requirements that we forget that we are actually terrible multitaskers. Presence is another skillset we can practice for free and that is available to everyone. Its also become incredibly popular through things like headspace and mindfulness, a trend I fully support.
When you play impro games people mess up, the game stops for a few seconds, and an interesting moment occurs in the group. You can either proceed, or you can stop and discuss who’s fault it was or way you screwed up. Never, not once, have I ever seen the discussion about why the crew up occurring be a fun thing. It drains energy, people get defensive, its no longer fun as people stand there and try to defend why they are right. What works much better is realising we are all responsible for keeping the game going. If the game stops, anyone can pick up the metaphorical ball and get the game rolling again. The lesson here is that we all have the power to set in motion new games, even when the old ones stopped. Perhaps the blame game isn’t the one we want to play as adults, perhaps we should get back to creating the fun that feels best for everyone.
There is an important caveat here, which feels obvious. The game isn’t fun if people don’t get the rules. If the game stopped or crashed because there is uncertainty around the rules, then this needs to get sorted. Yet this should ideally occur before the game begins. Get everyone on the same page, understanding the same rules, and then let the fun begin with everyone feeling safe and included. This is so simple that it almost sounds stupid, yet it is so rare in workplaces. When was the alst time you were newly played where you knew what the social rules were, who did what, and felt safe and included? The answer was probably rarely if ever.
There are other interesting moments to observe, although I am not sure yet what the life lessons are. One of them is that its incredibly fun when everyone knows what the rules are, but someone breaks them ever so slightly. We all know its happened, and when they get away with it and the games continues we all giggle together. Perhaps we all carry a fear of punishment with us, and when rules are broken the tension builds due to this fear and the dissipation of watching the game continues gives us the giddy rush of having just survived something dangerous I don’t think the life lesson is we should break more rules. My dad use to say: rules are made to be broken. While I kind of agree with it, the view on this is so nuanced that it could probably be a doctoral thesis in itself.
Perhaps one of the fun ways we can ‘break’ the rules is to finding new ways to play. Mistakes in games are often far from fatal and instead are opportunities for trying out new rules. This feels so cliché that I am embarrassed to write it, but that we can take mistakes and use them to our advantage is true in improv, and definitely true in life as well.
Maye the key lesson though is not everything is about learning and analysing and growth. Sometimes its just nice to play, be present and laugh. Kids are great at this, but as adults we tend to get caught up in the drama of everyday life – which is important in its own way, as being a childlike adult is highly problematic. As adults though, creating the space for these childlike moments can both be insightful, and hearing for us. It also leads to great connections with those you play with. Maye it time to google your nearest impro club and see if there’s any courses available?
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