Listen to the audio version of this post here.

 

Wanna play?

 

The workshop had barely started, and already it struck fear in my heart.

Improv requires two main skills, we heard. Listen. And Play. Yikes!

Oh, listening? No problem. People tell me all the time what a good listener I am. And no wonder. I’ve worked for years to cultivate that—I know you’ve heard me talk about how important listening is in business (and life!) and how we can get better at it.

Play? That’s another story. I can’t do that!

Well, okay, I do play. Spelling Bee, Wordle, Sudoku. Notice what’s not in that kind of play. That’s right—people.

There’s no team, no competition, and certainly no audience. That’s my kind of play!

This improv stuff is a whole different ballgame. Which is why I’ve always thought of it as a great opportunity to make a fool of myself.

And yet, there I was at an improv workshop.

A group of fellow-speakers got together with longtime improv-er Jonathan Pitts to learn about a whole different way to work with an audience. And I decided to join in, despite my apprehension about looking like a yutz. It’d be good for me, right?

Right. It was good for me.

I started out stiff and awkward and worried about the aforementioned yutziness. I ended up being a little bird, a protective mother, and a weed whacker (don’t ask) and having fun with all of it. Improv games turn out to be a gas!

Catherine Johns as "a little bird" in an improv class

Also, there was some learning to share with you.

It turned out that some familiar themes came up. Some of the same ideas I offer my clients, and readers, with a twist.

Those principles are why an improv class is so useful for speakers. And for anyone in any kind of business. And for anyone who has a conversation with somebody sometimes. You get the idea.

Here are a few take-aways to share with you …

Be present in your body.

It’s easy to get lost in thinking about what we should say. What would make us sound smart or clever or funny? Ironically, thinking about it makes it less likely that we will sound smart or clever or funny.

As Jonathan put it, “Your body experiences every moment so much faster than your brain. You feel faster than you think.”

Instead of trying to be funny in an improv class, brilliant in a board meeting, or clever with our colleagues, it’s about being real. That’s how we create the connection that helps us achieve our objective.

Own your space.

When you walk to the front of the room, stand up at a conference table, or even sit at your desk for a Zoom meeting, plant yourself first. THEN begin to speak.

You know how people will often start talking before they really have the floor? It’s as if they’re afraid to take too much of your time and attention so they’re rushing to get into…and through…their remarks.

That weakens everything they’re about to tell us.

Instead, get where you’re going, get present, then tell us what we need to hear.

Let it land.

People often make the same sort of mistake at the end of their comments.

They restate what they’ve already said in a slightly different—usually weaker—way. They add another explanation that doesn’t increase the impact. They “um” and “uh.” They trail off.

Or, as Jonathan put it, they “piss away their power.”

And as I often put it, “Say it once. Say it well. And zip it.”

That moment of quiet after you come to a firm close adds oomph to what you’ve just said.

Say yes to yourself.

This was a big one for me. Everybody knows the “Yes, and …” improv game at this point. And it certainly has real value.

Acknowledging the other person’s point of view and adding my own beats saying what’s wrong with whatever they just said every time, as you’ve heard me say before. I’ve worked hard to replace “but” with “and” most of the time. I’m a believer in “yes, and.”

Except when I’m talking to myself. I can “but, but, but” myself all day long. That’s why I was so struck by Jonathan’s suggestion: “Say yes to yourself.”

I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s useful advice for you, too. It’s so easy to argue with our own ideas, to focus on why our plan won’t work, or why we shouldn’t try this new venture. It’s paralyzing!

I took Jonathan’s exhortation to heart. I’m going to let myself play. And practice saying yes to myself.

And I’m dying to hear what you have to say. Tell me in a comment below.