Any good story has a beginning, middle and end. A reader is brought onto a winding path, discovering a new world and arriving at a place of satisfaction, hopefully uncovering something that will forever change their lives. Writing blogs is the same for me. I start somewhere, a passing thought or nagging nail, and I write. Trying to uncover the essence of a moment in time and if I find myself with the proverbial
case of "writer's block" instead of pushing through it, the words are set to simmer in my draft folder. How does one tell the story of how all the stars aligned to make something wonderful happen? Well, I may not know, but I'm going to try and tell my improv story.
The Impov Idea
In December of 2013, I had the pleasure of hearing
Stevie Ray present at a professional development organization meeting. His presence, joy and humor registered with me and I soon found myself enjoying a show at
Stevie Ray's Comedy Cabaret at the
Chanhassen Dinner Theater. After an evening of laughter, a dance began,
"I wonder if I could do improv?" Arriving home, I checked out their website and saw the price for an 8-week class. My mind quickly attached a
"that's too expensive" label and so my improv days were over before they even began. Time passed, until one day as I was leafing through the Community Ed Classes I found an "Improv for Everyone" 4-week class. Without even checking to see if the dates worked for my schedule, I registered and so my improv passion was re-ignited.
Within the 4 weeks our instructor
Carl taught us the improv rules, the "Yes, And!" "Trust yourself and others" and "Be Present" and somewhere within the first class, I realized improv held secrets of life living. I began noticing how much fun I was having and that the
love of laughter was essential for the next phase of my journey. Promising that wherever it leads me, I'd make space for it. As an extra bonus, I found out how grown-ups make friends outside of work; they find people that have similar interests. Making two new friends was icing on the proverbial cake and I'm truly grateful for their light, laughter and willingness to be present.
Intermediate Class
An Intermediate Class became available and I thought,
"do I want to do this again?" While in a hot yoga class in Duluth, I leaned in and saw how important taking this class would be for me - so I signed up. This time the cost wasn't a roadblock, because I was in a place to receive improv's gift. Best thing, both of my friends signed up too!
After the first course ended and before the second began, I came up with all these things about what improv
"should be". I actually started telling people "
I wasn't taking an improv class to be funny" (Head scratcher that one is?!?). Ego came in and the desire to prove something stepped forward. My brain was off creating stories and was determined to
"do it right." I brought all of this and my anxiety to the first class, the sucker punch is I didn't "know" this. Unfortunately for my class, they got to see it all. Fortunately for me, so did I.
The Bermuda Improv Triangle
Then it happened, Day 1, Scene 2:
The Bermuda Improv Triangle. As another classmate and I stepped into a scene, we zeroed in on "what" we were doing, rather than "who" we were to each other (an essential part to improv). I found myself getting stuck and soon trust slid quickly past me. (My brain rambled off a multitude of mean and disheartening thoughts that I won't even type.
*Imagine all the worst things you say about yourself, then picture them racing through your mind and then find yourself still on stage.*) Trust in others was my next option and yet I was trying to not look like what I feared,
"stupid." And even though this scene work was about being able to bring in an off-stage helper, I just couldn't do it.
I wanted to run, but my feet wouldn't move. So I pressed my knees into the stage and tried yet again to do something, I could feel the tears welling up. A stern voice came in,
"keep it together, Jan. No one cries in improv." and somehow I made it through without tears. What I didn't make it through was not appearing vulnerable or afraid. I literally hit my improv rock bottom and when the moment to be present for myself came in and I saw all the hurt, the challenges and the fear; I made a choice and bolted, not off the stage, but away from the beautiful vulnerability,
away from me.
Even as my improv friends and I decompressed in the parking lot under a star filled sky, I couldn't face it, it was too raw and I needed time. Something didn't sit right with me and yet, I was too close to it to provide any sort of healthy perspective. Somehow I hoped I could just "pretend" that it didn't happen. Yet, sure enough as the as the second class approached, I wasn't ready to face it either.
Improv Is Meant To Be Fun
Kind words from my improv friends, introspection and a week off from improv class, allowed me to create a space of exploration. So I got reflective last week and when I started unraveling all the pieces, I asked for help.
I knew improv would rock me out of my comfort zone, that gentle nurturing would be needed and that I would learn something new. It turns out I forgot this while I was in my beautiful vulnerability on stage. At the heart of this lesson, I was afraid of looking vulnerable, too afraid or too stubborn to ask for help from scene mates and angry that I wasn't "doing it right."
The Catalyst
One of the perks of being an improv student is getting to attend Friday night shows to observe, intake and laugh. Last Friday, my improv friends and I took our seats in the theater and as the show began, out came Stevie Ray (the creator of the company and the man who inspired my improv journey). As he led
the troupe in sublime improv, I found all sorts of sparks of inspiration dancing within me.
Being able to reconnect with our first instructor Carl was filled with merriment and gratitude. Then Stevie Ray came over and our conversation opened another door into my improv passion. He began sharing his philosophy and that the classes aren't just for people who want to do improv, but for those who want to think quickly on their feet, increase confidence and like to laugh. The conversation continued on and while I don't remember the exact words, what I do remember is feeling a beautiful shift within me. He spoke about childhood play and how easy it was then to just be a character and the next second be someone completly different. It didn't matter what
you were or where you were, it was HOW you showed up.
This conversation became an essential catalyst for me to connect
back into WHY I was in improv. Turns out I'd been making improv "work" and
couldn't seem to shake the negative thoughts I'd experienced on the first day of intermediate class.
I was stopping myself from experiencing improv at its essential form and in this brief, yet meaningful conversation, I reconnected back into why I do this, why I love improv and why it's so important to me. So go ahead, ask me why I do this.
With Love, Jan
