Night and Day

This is the difference between me at work and me at improv class.

Work: Cutting and pasting a few hundred questions into the proper format because the editor didn't wait for me to provide properly formatted files for the author.

IC: Walking around the room acting out "despondency, 6 on a scale of 10... now 7, now 2!"

W: My mind wandering for 30 seconds between each pasted question (Did I really leave my jeans jacket at the gym? Is it really lost forever? How will I find another one that suits me? How much will I have to shell out for it?)

IC: My mind running a mile a minute, coming up with opening lines for when it's my turn to start a scene.

W: Signing out the key to the sick room because I'm about to fall asleep at my desk.

IC: Constantly smiling, so pumped that an hour at the pub and a 45-min. commute home aren't enough to bring me back down.

Last week, the sermon at church touched on choosing to be happy in your current work situation. The easiest way for me to be happy at work is to enjoy the way it leaves my mind free to daydream about other things.

But improv class feeds something in me that isn't getting fed anywhere else. I wonder if this is the case for my classmates. Now that we're on Level 2, people are no longer there for purely functional reasons ("I want to give better presentations at work"); they're there because it's a lot of fun. I wonder how much I'm called to do this in a way that's unique and destined to be big, and how much it's just a good thing for anybody to do. I confess, I'm hoping for big things. But even if my big changes aren't going to come directly as a result of improv class, I'm glad to be doing it. It's such a gift every week.

One of the most remarkable things about it for me is that when I'm there, I'm there. I'm fully present. That's almost never the case for anything. It wasn't the case when I was a musician, even; I was usually waiting for rehearsal to get out so I could go home and eat. But in improv class, I don't wish I were anywhere else. This is novel.

I've been telling everybody to take improv classes if they can. Unless you're shy to the point of having a psychological disorder (and perhaps even then), I think pretty much anybody would find this fun. It's not all scary performance and trying to be funny. There are tons of group games where there's little pressure to perform, and you get to loosen up and laugh like a kid. It's like a moon bounce for your brain.

It even took my mind of my jeans jacket, which I have lost. I'm distrught. It looked rather sharp. All these fun new clothes I've bought, and no jeans jacket to wear over them! Whatever shall I do???

Improv can't bring my jacket back. I'm just going to have to absorb that sartorial blow and recover as best I can. But boy, it'll take your mind off the pain like a Percocet.

Percocet and a moon bounce, people. The giddy joys of improv class are calling you... calling... calling...

HEY! C'MERE! it seems to be saying.

Yes, that's definitely what it said.