Father of the Year Award

About a week ago, it was very windy. A Game of Thrones, “A cold wind was blowing from the north," sort of wind. It wasn't Twister-eqsue cow-flying-by-news-van windy (did anyone ever address in the audio commentary what happened to that cow? I like to the cow landed safely and continued to chew it's cudd. A man can dream.)

Most people were inside, but I decided to walk the dog. I hadn't walked him earlier in the day, and I felt guilt. I hate guilt, and rather then deal with it on an emotional level, I decided to deal with it on a tangible, I'll-just-go-walk-the-dog level and get rid of it all together.

I'm glad I did take the dog for a walk. Yes, because it made me feel better, but also because it made me fee great! I saw something very touching. I saw this father and son in the park, taking advantage of the wind, and trying to fly a kite. The kid was beaming. Thrilled to be out, living life. Freezing, no doubt, but loving life! The kite hadn't gotten off the ground yet, his dad was putting all the pieces in place, but he was bouncy-excited. Remember bouncy-excited? Remember that feeling? So exhilarated you couldn't sit or stand still?

I circled the park and kept my eye on the pair. How could I not? Both were so elated! The dad was clearly thrilled to be in the process of achieving his well deserved father of the year award, and the kid was hilarious. He was like a 3 foot tall surveyor. Waiting for the kite to be ready, walking around the patch of grass, staring into the sky, returning to the kite, and repeating the process.

Then, the moment arrived, the wind was swirling, the kite was assembled, and the kid was positioned at the end of the line, ready to run. He ran, and the kite crashed! The amazing thing, I didn't notice any sadness on the kids face. He just stood there, ready to try it again. The dad grabbed the kite, held it high in the air, and everyone was ready for round two.

The kid sprinted across the park, the kite caught in the air, and soared. Success! There was a lot of happiness.

And, there was a lot of passion. I know that's why I was mesmerized. I've seen kites fly before. It's not unusual I've even watched professional kite flyers in San Francisco. This excitement though, in a Roseville Park was more enchanting, because of the passion and joy.

It reminded me of how immensely watchable joy is. It's like this secret weapon. Watching someone truly enjoy themselves in a park or onstage in a show is memorable. Watching someone live in the moment, and be excited about the moment can be hypnotic. Sometimes I get focused on rules, patterns, heightening, and "the next thing." I better craft a good moment here to get to a good moment over there. Watching a couple kite flyers woke me up. Have fun first, love the moment, and living in that moment will be so much more fun for everyone. Everyone will fixate on that moment together.

Push the Door for Characters

Last week I was talking with a friend who is a fellow improviser. He admitted having trouble getting into characters, and staying out of his head. I'm trying this thing where I empathize more...you know... be a better human being an' all...so I responded with a very deep, and insightful, "Yeah. That can be hard. I've been there too." Oh man! What wisdom! I was making it rain empathy! Though, it wasn't super helpful. So we kept talking.

We continued talking about improv, and letting go of fear. The conversation curved all over the place, from improv characters, to scene commitment, to yes, and, etc. Then, we talked about scene starts, and where to begin.

We realized scene starts, and particularly, beginning in the middle, can solve a lot of issues. Since our first improv class we've all been encouraged to, 'begin in the middle.' I teach my improv classes and players to begin the scene' "five minutes later." Begin the scene five minutes in, make the audience work, let them figure out what's happening. They're smart. It's good to challenge the audience. They'll appreciate the challenge.

And....

In our discussion, we realized a whole new reason 'five minutes later' helps. An improviser appreciates the distraction. The start in the middle improv suggestion isn't just for the benefit of the audience, but for the benefit of the improviser. It helps everyone. If we begin 5 minutes in, those are five minutes we don't sit around doubting pour choice, or fearing our scene initiation. The "getting out of your head" issue really dissolves when you're in the middle of an improvised robbery, instead of carefully planning the heist. It's easier to be a cop when you start the scene busting a drug ring, and not beginning a scene doodling on your space work desk at the precinct (aside: I misspelled precinct, and Google Keep autocorrected my spelling to 'precenjnt.' What is a precenjnt? It looks Scandinavian).

We start a scene 'late' and we can just be. We start a scene 'early,' and we have a higher likelyhood of getting chased around by doubt.

Idle hands are the devil's playground, and an idle mind is an improviser's hell. Ultimately, it'll be a great day on the improv stage when we can let go of the doubt devil, and just tell ourselves, "OK. This is the scene I'm in. It's a great scene. I just have to listen and respond, and it'll become even better!"

Until then, jumping into a scene, pushing that door open, instead of planning on pushing the door, will help us get out of our self inflicted critiques, and into living in the moment.