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Saturday, September 8, 2012

Eye Contact and Unicorn Magic

A brand-new Held2gether improv class started today, which I swear is always even more exciting for me than it is for the students.

It's not because I have a boring life, either. I have a very exciting life. This week, for example, I did handstands without help. I mean, come on! That's living on the edge, people.

Anyway, let me explain why I'm excited by a new class (as if you really have a choice). It's because I love to see people start off a little unsure - sometimes even downright terrified - and morph into having a great time... while they're learning stuff.

It's also because I see things in new groups of people that reinforce my understanding of improv and deepen it in the way only beginners can. For example, in a "yes, and" exercise today, I saw the best example of the importance of eye contact I've ever seen. When the exercise got a little struggly, both participants just stayed in it and made good, solid (though not creepy) eye contact with each other, which calmed them down and helped them get right back on track. I've seen it before, a million times, but this was just such a clear example because there was nothing else going on in the exercise that could account for the renewed calm and ability to move forward.

Eye contact is a skill whose importance can't be overstated in improv (and in life, really), and yet it's difficult to communicate the why behind it. Largely because it's controlled by unicorn magic. When you are in your head, stuck, confused, unsure, self-conscious, whatever, eye contact WILL help. Not just CAN help. WILL.

When you make eye contact with your partner, you're communicating non-verbally; you're putting your trust in them and allowing them to trust you. You are making a conscious choice to get on the same page, work together as a team and surrender your agenda. And when you do all that, the unicorns are happy and they reward you with a hilarious scene.

And that, my friends, is the secret of improv. You're welcome.

By Sonnjea Blackwell