I’m like every cool guy in every 80’s romantic movie. Commitment makes me roll my eyes, and find flaws with what I’m considering committing to. Hate to admit I’m that shallow, but I’m suddenly aware… I am.
This week I started Improv 201 – the second class in the series of four required to graduate from United Citizens Brigade.
When I started Improv 101, I was a hero just for showing up! At my age? I’m a marvel. It was fun and easy. I met a lot of young people who didn’t even treat me like I was old, or their mother. (Sometimes, but not overly.)
And as I said, I felt like a mighty conqueror. I conquered fear and resistance. I conquered my “better judgment” to be there in that classroom among Los Angeles’ finest and funniest. (And objectively, beautiful people.)
I started 201 this week, and faced the sophomore challenge, I guess you’d call it.
You’re not a fresh-faced freshman, eager and amazed
You’re not anywhere near the finish line, though
You’re not sure you can do this… at all.
It is hard to commit to our creativity and try.
When you do improv, you’re literally on a stage, in the spotlight, with an audience. Each class, each week. Do you want to just keep committing? Keep bringing it?
I focus on the hard parts:
It is much harder to convince myself I’m good enough.
It is actual work – not just an adrenaline rush.
It is all new people whom I can imagine are judging me harshly.
It’s a new teacher – who may not be as generous with a laugh, or as smiley as my first teacher.
But, normal, rational me knows: It is all fine and good – it is my reaction to it that makes me fearful.
It is a real thing – the sophomore challenge.
Writers get stuck on their second book. Or once they realize they really intend to finish something they started one night in an excited rush.
How do you nudge yourself forward into the room, onto the stage, and into your highest intelligence to commit to something you know you want?
It is helpful to have support. It is helpful to have people (like you) to complain to. It is helpful to be aware of your thoughts enough to call yourself out. All those “good enough,” “young enough,” “funny enough, “cute or beautiful enough” thoughts are just thoughts. Your thoughts are not you. You are the self above the thoughts. So, it distinctly helps if you can see your devastating thoughts as just thoughts. Not your reality.
My reality is I have to play a scene with a stranger about being a cowboy, in which I display a strong emotion that doesn’t seem to make sense in the situation. Go!
If living dangerously and pursuing long-held dreams includes writing a novel or memoir, come to my NEW*(Yay!) free class, FIND TIME TO WRITE, Tuesday May 12, 4pm PT.
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