Have you heard the phrase, "write for the trash"? Me either!
I was listening to a podcast yesterday, What's Good Games ( If you like video games, you might like it too! This has been Parenthesis Hot Takes) and they mentioned the freedom of, "writing for the trash." I think the quote is attributed to Stephen King (if you know the truth...let me know in the comments). The idea: not getting caught up in perfection. Don't worry about crafting the perfect, ideal, most amazing work. Just, write. And, write a lot. And, relax, you're going to throw it away. The whole time writing you can breathe and relax knowing you can throw it away. You can let it go. It doesn't control you.
How amazing is that? I wasn't even writing at the time, but felt relief!And, then I realized that's improv. Improv is about the moment and creating for the sake of creating with your teammates, then letting it go. We're not "improvising for the trash," but we are improvising for the moment. And, there are a lot of moments, so as soon as the scene is done, onto the next moment, please!
So, with that advice in mind, I've decided to write for the trash today. I'm not gonna hyperventilate if this isn't perfect. And, believe you, me, they, her, us, everyone...it's not perfect...but I do hope it's helpful.
I'm not even worried about SEO keywords. (SEO keywords are those popular words and phrases like ‘popular tiktok dances,‘ ‘sexy roman coliseums’ and ‘is that a burrito?‘ you search for during work hours). OH man. What relief. What a nice chance to just spill some thoughts about improv onto the blog. Into a blog? I don't know. PotatO, PotatINTO.
Do you dream?
I guess you do. I mean, we all do.
But...let me ask something else....do you REMEMBER many of your dreams?
I don't. It's a void. I fall asleep, wake up, and sleep is a giant nothing in my mind.
EXCEPT! Last week. I had a dream...and I could recall everything. I was stunned and thankful I was able to remember because there was actually improv wisdom tucked away in my dream.
Can I share it? I know a lot of people share dreams, and it never means as much to the audience as it does to the speaker. But, hang with me! I think you'll get something out of my dream brain.
The first thing I remember...
I step onto the stage. I'm an improviser, and we're about to start the show. We are a small improv team, and it's a small room. The walls are brown. I don't know what that means. I can't see the faces of my teammates. I don't even remember looking at their faces, but I do remember their faces don't exist. However, in the audience, as we're about to begin I notice an old friend Betsy Sodaro, and the hosts of one of my favorite podcasts You're the Man Now Dog, Dan Lippert and Ryan Rosenberg. Were there others in the audience? Probably! But, these were the three I noticed, because....um...yeah....they're Betsy, Dan and Ryan. These are three of the best improvisers I've ever seen and heard. They create amazing improv. They support every idea in a scene. They have fun, and their joy onstage and in podcasts is infectious.
So....yeah....I was nervous about performing in front of them. The stakes were raised.
After I noticed them, I wiped the stage and began an improv scene. I thought I was making some good offers, but my faceless partner wasn't doing anything. I remember them mixing something with their hands, but they didn't say anything or look at me. They didn't pay attention to me. I got frustrated and then angry. Why wasn't my scene partner helping? I remember thinking, "I can't make this improv scene good by myself. This isn't my fault. This is going badly because my partner isn't supporting me. I need them to give me something so I can respond. I just have to wait. This is horrible. I can't believe Betsy, Dan, and Rya are here."
And, then....suddenly...i don't know why it happened...but some inner voice inside my dream said, "you can do anything. It's improv. Give yourself a gift. Have fun."
And, then I woke up. That's it. It was weird. It wasn't an alarm-blaring, sun-blasting-my-eyeballs uncomfortable wake-up. It was a peaceful start-of-the-movie, get-ready-for-this-heroes-journey sort of beginning.
And, the idea, "you can do anything. It's improv. Give yourself a gift. Have fun," was lodged in my brain. I'm so thankful it was there, because I thought about that idea all morning, and continue to think about it. It felt like the truth in my dream. It was nice to know: THIS IS THE TRUTH.
The more I think about what improv teachers have told me. It's true. Improv can be fun, when you realize you can do anything. I could have done anything in that scene, but instead, I waited. I paused, waiting for the gifts to come. I could have tap-danced, I could have admitted I'm in love, I could have asked for a glass of what he was making. I see the parallels to life. I've become frozen before, blaming the world, and situations for not offering me more. I think, "it could be so much better," instead of making it better. I could give myself a gift onstage or offstage. I could have connected, risked, and grown. But I didn't....until some mysterious little voice in my brain politely told me to get off my ass and do something.
So, I keep reflecting on the dream and reminding myself while there are some things I can't control, I should be mindful of the HUGE amount I can.
I guess what I'm saying is, God or no, there's some great truth in the Serenity Prayer, "grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can,"
Like one of my teachers Susan Messing said, "if you're not having fun, you're the a******."
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Oh...since we're talking about dreams....can I add a long addendum? Wait..I believe an addendum has to do with the first part. This second part does not. So, let's call this Chapter 2
CHAPTER 2
I had another moment while waking up which I think ties into improv, and creation. That's why I'm putting it here.
When I woke up last week, one of my cats walked up beside the bed and mewed in my face. Not cute. Annoying. I wasn't ready for a cat to be in the room. I was confident it was Sauce (Sauce is a cat...not a walking jar of Ragu). I "saw" Sauce and his yellow fur. I "heard" Sauce with his high pitched mew. I "knew" it was Sauce...up until the moment I walked around the room looking for the Sauce. No Sauce. Not there. The only cat in the room was Scribbles. That's all. The doors were shut, the windows locked. Sauce doesn't have any Mission Impossible wiring to escape through the ceiling. I thought I "knew" the truth...but reality highlighted something very different. I believed something that wasn't real. 100% wrong. They look, sound, and behave differently, but I didn't see that. I saw Sauce, and believed it was Sauce. I understood what was real, until I didn't.
I don't know. It was another moment in waking that kinda shook me.....for the good! I mean, what else do I "see" that I might not see accurately?
I hope you have a great day!
-Paul
P.S. Here are some side by side cat comparisons. Sauce and Scribbles.
Sauce, looking for a shoulder to climb on
Scribbles judging my writing, and wondering why I’m not feeding her.