YES, AND.
Give me a script, and let me act it out. Actually, don't. Just hand me the script and the megaphone and let me direct the show. But never ask me to do improv. I have never been part of an improv group. I don't even know if I would have the quick mental reflexes to pull that off. So these improv rules are not something that I'm overly familiar with. I first encountered them in Tina Fey's Bossypants. I had listened to her audiobook, so I never had highlights or notes in the margins, but I guess my mind saved this section and made it a sleeper agent, biding time in my subconscious until it's prime time to strike. Somehow, my mind recalled Tina Fey's rules of improvisation - or at least two of them - but they are enough to get me off the couch and scrambling to my workstation. (Oh! And before you make any assumptions, my couch is not my workstation.)
Upon review, it seems that Tina Fey's Rules of Improvisation is not only a great list of "rules" for the improv stage; these rules are also more than applicable to the grand stage that is life. I would probably push it a tad further by stating that because life is so thrillingly unexpected, one must consider these improvisation rules to go through life and emerge somewhat sane. (Yes. Only somewhat sane. No one wants to be too sane at the end of their life. I mean - seriously! That's no fun!)
Today I'm sharing two of the rules with you because these were the ones that jumped out at me in the middle of a car ride home from a challenging encounter. Maybe if I feel inspired, I'll write on the other two next time. Of course, these rules are not the end all be all for life (I'm definitely not the person to write about that). I, however, think they're definitely worth a gander.
Always agree and say YES.
"When you're improvising, this means you are required to agree with whatever your partner has created. So if we're improvising and I say, "Freeze, I have a gun," and you say, "That's not a gun. It's your finger. You're pointing your finger at me," our improvised scene has ground to a halt. But if I say, "Freeze, I have a gun!" and you say, "The gun I gave you for Christmas! You bastard!" then we have started a scene because we have AGREED that my finger is in fact a Christmas gun.
"Now, obviously in real life you're not always going to agree with everything everyone says. But the Rule of Agreement reminds you to "respect what your partner has created" and to at least start from an open-minded place. Start with a YES and see where that takes you."
What I've learned from this concept is the idea of accepting the reality in front of you. One of the things that I've learned in my journey to better mental health is that I need to acknowledge that there are things I can control, and there are things I cannot control. So much in life are things beyond our control. Like stray, frizzy hair on a bad hair day, sometimes life is just untameable. Parts of it won't submit to our need for control.
I can't help looking back at these past couple of years. I had control over several things, but I didn't control other things. I don't control the weather. I don't control the virus. I don't control other people's decisions. I don't control other people's feelings. I've made decisions that have impacted others. Likewise, others have made decisions that have impacted my life. I've lost. I've gained. I've grieved - and am still grieving. I cried my eyes out the other night, missing my mum. Acknowledging all these things is no fun for someone who loves being in control.
Say yes.
I'm sure some of you have started getting a bit of an allergic reaction from the thought that I'm proposing we say yes to everything. Are you insane, Tirza? What about abuse? What about racism? What about sexism? Are we just going to say yes to that?
If you've known me for a little while, you'll see that I am not the most agreeable person. My initial gut reaction is to say, "No." I stand by that, actually. I feel like we all have to learn how to say no.
I think I'm interpreting this rule in a slightly different way. I would say that this rule means being brave enough to face the beautiful and broken reality in front of us. We accept that this is life - that there is evil out there, that death happens, that we go through traumatic experiences. The alternative would be to live in the clouds, pretending that these things - life - don't happen. Living in denial isn't actually living. I think deep inside, we all know that.
Another thing I've learned from my journey is to name emotions and circumstances. Call it what it is. Maybe you need a feelings wheel to correctly name what is churning inside you. You know, other than that Mexican feast you gobbled up last night. This is what I find so wholesome about saying YES. Rather than agreeing to everything, we name the circumstances and take back power from the unknown by saying YES.
When we say yes, I propose that what we're actually doing is mustering the courage to say:
"This, what's happening to me, is abuse."
"Racism still exists. And it's still happening right now."
"This friendship is toxic."
"I am not happy."
"I am being gaslighted."
"This is a trigger for me."
We stop pretending that life is all rainbows and butterflies when we say yes and acknowledge that things fall apart. Sometimes even good things fall apart. We decide to genuinely where our feet are, firmly on the ground, with courageous eyes seeing things as they are - not as what we wish they would be.
YES is then accompanied by another powerful three-letter word.
You are supposed to agree and then add something of your own
"The second rule of improvisation is not only to say yes, but YES, AND. You are supposed to agree and then add something of your own. If I start a scene with "I can't believe it's so hot in here," and you just say, "Yeah…" we're kind of at a standstill. But if I say, "I can't believe it's so hot in here," and you say, "What did you expect? We're in hell." Or if I say, "I can't believe it's so hot in here," and you say, "Yes, this can't be good for the wax figures." Or if I say, "I can't believe it's so hot in here," and you say, "I told you we shouldn't have crawled into this dog's mouth," now we're getting somewhere.
"To me, YES, AND means don't be afraid to contribute. It's your responsibility to contribute. Always make sure you're adding something to the discussion. Your initiations are worthwhile."
What if, once we have confronted our reality courageously, we set forth contributing to how things play out? After saying, "yes, this is abuse," we gird for battle. We then say, "no more," pack up our bags, and walk away. After saying, "Racism still exists," we set forth change.
To an extent, I feel like this YES, AND embodies what everyone has been saying left and right for people to take space. Don't shrink. Don't cower. Face reality, no matter how shitty it might be. Be 100% present. Then do something about it. Contribute.
YES, AND might mean seeing a relationship for what it is and deciding to stay and fight. It might mean seeing a season's ending as it is, a chance to celebrate and move on. It might mean saying goodbye. It might mean staying put. It might mean going to see a counselor. It might mean taking medication. YES, AND means purposefully taking ownership of what happens next. Face reality and then own your decision.
This week has been an emotional roller coaster for me. There are things about life that I seriously wanted to hide from. Actually, I was just telling my counselor that I wanted to hide from life because I'm super exhausted and frustrated by missed connections. I wanted to give up on things, on dreams, on people. I wanted to live in the pages of fantasy novels, never ever going back to real life. But then my weird mind reminded me, against my will, of these improv rules. So take a bit of a breather, dear heart, but then get back up and say,
"YES, AND."
Face the truth.
Show up.
Take space.