I totally understand. As a matter of fact, I'm flapping my hands right now.
I have two things to say on this subject. LOL! As if. I never have only two things to say on any subject. But we'll start with two and see where this goes...
First of all, improv is just like any other muscle. At first, you may be weak and out of shape and unable to think of anything. But the more you work out, the stronger your improv muscles become and soon you are able to think of something almost all the time. Yay you!
And b: You can think of something, even when you think you can't. It's your brain's built-in mechanism for self-preservation that makes you think you can't think of anything. It's your defense against feeling foolish, actually, the self-censoring part of yourself that judges things before it lets them come out of your mouth.
Probably most people have a desire NOT to look stupid or make a fool of themselves, to some degree or other. Some people have learned that the only way to really get better at stuff in life is to be willing to look foolish. I mean, we weren't born knowing everything, and sometimes in the process of learning stuff we end up looking foolish. Um, so what?
In improv, as in life, you absolutely must be willing to look foolish if you want to improve. That means you have to tell your inner censor to shut the hell up, and then just say whatever pops into your head. Sure, sometimes you know nothing about the suggestion you get. I mean, I don't know about you, but I'm completely clueless when it comes to rebuilding carburetors. But in my imagination, they have screws and valves and gaskets and grommets, and that's what I'm gonna say, totally unabashedly. The judgy part of my brain is already arguing that grommets aren't part of carburetors, but I DON'T CARE. That part of my brain isn't the part that's good at improv, or learning new stuff of any kind, and all it does is take the fun out of things.
Since I'm all about getting better at improv and life, and having as much fun as possible doing it, the judgy part of my brain doesn't get a vote. It took some (okay, a LOT) of effort at the beginning to let go of that part. I have a very strong desire not to look foolish, if you wanna know the truth. But I learned that I almost never look as foolish as I feared I would look, and on the rare occasions I really do look that silly... nothing bad happens. I feel silly for a few minutes, I get embarrassed, I might blush, once in a while I may cry. For pete's sake, NOBODY DIES.
I can virtually guarantee that you will not die if you say something that makes no sense in improv. And when you learn to let go of that judgy, self-censoring inner critic that keeps you from trying new things for fear of failure and/or looking foolish, you will discover a whole world of cool stuff to try, people to get to know and successes just waiting to be had. Please don't miss out just because you're too busy judging yourself. That would totally suck. Just sayin'.
By Sonnjea Blackwell
