A great meeting? Oxymoron?

I took part in a great meeting today. True!

And I’m not good at meetings. Usually. They drain my energy, leaving me feeling as though I’ve lost something. Just between you and me, I struggle to be ‘good’ at meetings. I have even been known to exhibit all the behaviours I most dislike in workshop participants (and maybe I shouldn’t be telling you this).

This meeting left me feeling energised.

So what made it different?

1. We threw away the agenda and had a series of questions to generate discussion.

2. We huddled (instead of making ‘camp’ – thanks to David Robinson for this description). Making ‘camp’ means that you select a seat and spread your stuff to claim your space. In this meeting, I invited (well, no, that’s not true, I just made it an instruction) to leave all of our books and ‘stuff’ behind and sit as a tighter group up one end of one of those terrible long board tables.

3. We kept a record of our discussion using flip chart paper in the centre of the table (not up on the wall that would have created a further disconnect) making mind maps. Oh, and I also played with my new toy – the LiveScribe pen that records the conversations. Makes it easy to go back to later.

4. We invited another in who wasn’t in the room, using skype and a Mac laptop with a multi-directional screen so that his face (enlarged to fill the whole screen) was visible to all participants. Not only was he not in the room, he was on another continent and in a very different time zone, but was still an integral part of the meeting. The lap top was on the table, not projected onto a screen so that we could maintain the intimacy that encourages open discussion.

5. We kept to time. We agreed on a one hour discussion, then a break and then further discussion, until 15 minutes were left to quickly discuss some ‘business’ and we finished on time. Incidently, I discovered that the LiveScribe pen facilitates this by providing a discreet way of keeping track of how long we’d been talking.

Lots of lessons here for everyday meetings. Thankfully I don’t have to do this every day, and for those that you do, maybe some ideas to make them more, well, bearable?

Putting down your clever

I’ve been reading lots of interesting blogs lately – and wanting to comment on them – and blocking myself by wanting to say something, oh, you know, clever or witty.

So I say nothing, and I lose an opportunity to connect, and to just say, thanks for writing this. So I’m going to consciously try to put down my clever and pick up my ordinary.

Hat tip: Lief Hansen

Community building with Playback Theatre

We cannot hold a torch to light another’s path without brightening our own. Ben Sweetland

My introduction to improvisation was via Playback Theatre. Playback is a form that uses real stories – moments and stories from the audience – as a basis for the enactment. The players use deep listening skills and metaphor to play back the stories capturing the emotion, and sometimes the sub-text. It can be funny or moving or tragic. Anything really. It’s great fun, and a privilege, to perform.

The folk from TrueStory Theatre were at the Applied Improv Conference and provided a great platform for us – newcomers and old hands alike – to explore playback.

One comment that stayed with me was from Christopher Ellinger, who said that “the purpose of playback is community building”. Improv is not usually associated with community building, so maybe this requires some exploration.

It’s described by TrueStory Theatre like this:

The mission of True Story Theater is to promote social healing by listening deeply to people’s stories and transforming them spontaneously into theater. Our events create a respectful atmosphere where every voice can be heard and any story told — however ordinary or extraordinary, difficult or joyful. True Story Theater offers audiences fresh perspectives, deeper connections, and a renewed appreciation for our common humanity.

I’m reminded of my own experiences learning playback and performing. We built community amongst our dispirate troupe of newbies grappling with the form by turning up each Tuesday evening and telling our own stories: there was the woman minister dealing with the hierarchy and expectations of the Church and her family; the daughter of social workers who had grown up in institutions; the male beautician who went on to become a regular playback performer; the young couple just starting an organic fruit and vegie business. Oh, and I was there too, just starting out on my own in business – and exploring improv for the first time.

We’d share moments from our week, and stories that grew and developed. It was like living in a real-life melodrama serial. And all the while we’d practice listening – listening for the essence of the story, a metaphor, what’s not said and how it could be restated as three sentences. We’d practice each of these in turn, and then we’d practice listening for all four at once. It was the most authentic listening training I’ve ever done. We’d practice playing back, taking on different roles and using different forms. We’d practice accepting offers, and moving the action on. We’d practice speaking up and shutting up. We’d practice making our partner look good. And we’d practice giving, because that’s what playback is all about – the teller giving their story to the players, and the players reshaping it and giving it back. That’s why I also think the essence of playback is community building – it creates shared stories. Your story becomes my story. It creates shared understanding – I can empathise with your experience. And it creates a shared experience, that bonds us and builds connection.

Playback is another manifestation of the power of conversation, telling stories and human connection. And it’s great fun!

A poem, or two – inspired by improv

Hat tip to Leif Hansen: A poem by Haviz, 14th Century Sufi poet

There is a Wonderful Game

There is a wonderful game we should play,
And it goes like this:

We hold hands and look into each other’s eyes
And scan each other’s face.

Then I say,
“Now tell me a difference you see between us.”

And you respond,
“Hafiz, your nose is ten times bigger than mine!”

Then I would say,
“Yes, my dear, almost ten times!”
But let’s keep playing.
Let’s go deeper,
Go deeper.
For if we do,
Our spirits will embrace
And interweave.

Our union will be so glorious
That even God
Will not be able to tell us apart.

There is a wonderful game
We should play with everyone
And it goes like this…

And another, hat tip to Cat Gilliam

With that Moon Language

Admit something:
Everyone you see, you say to them,
“Love me.”

Of course you do not do this out loud;
Otherwise,
Someone would call the cops.

Still though, think about this,
This great pull in us
To connect.

Why not become the one
Who lives with a full moon in each eye
That is always saying,

With that sweet moon
language,

What every other eye in this world
Is dying to
Hear.

Beyond Open Space

At the end of each and every Applied Improv Conference is an Open Space Day (we’re still working on the whole conference being in Open Space, but that’s another story). I’ve had great fun the last two years opening space, and this year enjoyed Chris Corrigan taking on the opening – providing a new voice for AINers to hear, and selfishly, providing an opportunity for me to see how someone else opens space.

I just loved the way Chris quickly applied the language of improvisation to Open Space and named it a long-form frame game known as The Harrison.

And I can’t describe how much I love this – from the incomparable Rich Cox (so much talent in one person, it shouldn’t be allowed!) Post Open Space were two more sessions (after the conference had finished) – Open Pub and Open Tub. Here are the Laws and Principles…

oPubSpace

law of two drinks – If you find yourself in a situation where you are drinking alone, meet at least one more person before beginning your discussion.

the four principles – Whatever someone orders is the right drink. Whoever comes is the right pubgoer. Whenever it starts is the right time. When it’s last call, it’s over.

oTubSpace

law of two towels – If you find yourself in a situation where you are soaking alone, meet at least one more person before beginning your discussion.

the four principles – Whoever comes is the right hottubber. Whatever someone wears is the right swimwear. Whenever it starts is the right time. When someone pees in the pool, it’s over.

What clients really want from improv

There’s a tremendous hunger in organisations for individuals to be seen and to have the skills to communicate what they’re passionate about.

One of the workshops I attended at the Improv Conference was an interview with three clients who currently use improv within their organisations and the On Your Feet folk who provide the applied improv. The clients were from Nike, Intel and the Oregon Public Service.

We heard about the challenges that the clients face in introducing improv in their organisations and in getting buy-in from senior management and participants, particularly if their backgrounds and work are largely science/engineering focused. The tricky bit is demonstrating the value of improv in advance, hence the importance of starting with a relationship.

“Get yourself out there – find a trusted partner who knows your work and will get you a foot in the door. Try a pilot with a handful of people.”

Once you’ve delivered something you can start collecting data to demonstrate value: ask people how they applied what they learnt, capture anecdotal evidence, before and after stories – and don’t underestimate the value of your web site.

“Executives often process information and make judgment based on visiting the web site of the improv provider to see who else they have worked with.”

On Your Feet sometimes do before and after scenario measurement. They provide three situations and ask participants six weeks before the workshop how they would deal with them. Then they ask them the same question about the same scenarios six weeks after. The results and compared and analysed, providing valuable information for the client and OYF.

“You can get away with anything once. It’s about getting a return engagement.”

To get internal buy-in clients will tie the improv to whatever big initiative is current, especially when competing internally for funding. So it’s useful for providers to know what the big initiatives are and provide a clear tie-in.

And what about the nay-sayers and skeptics? It’s important to recognise the differences in the audience, listen to them and acknowledge that everything won’t work for everyone. Strategically, it’s useful to do pre-interviews with known skeptics and be prepared to use the organisational language and situations.

One of my own tactics for dealing with skeptics is to make sure that whatever they are doing in a workshop is tied to an actual situation they have to deal with in the workplace. This starts to build confidence that this ‘stuff’ might even be useful!

People in organisations are often passionate about what they are doing – even if it seems mundane to others. They will try and innovate and do their best no matter what their role is. They like to be acknowledged – don’t we all? They want to share what they know and learn from others. It’s part of what makes us human. Improv can build the confidence and communication skills for even the most introverted to communicate with others (don’t I know it!). Individuals in organisations want to be seen and heard.

“And it’s valuable to get people just to laugh and enjoy themselves.”

Rock Balancing

My friend Chris Corrigan introduced me to rock balancing. I too find it reflective and calming. And finding rocks that others have balanced always brings a smile. Here’s a pic of one I found (on Ruby Beach in Washington) and some rocks I balanced in Yosemite National Park.

Time well spent

Here’s some images from my recent trip to the US. I was there on holidays, and to attend the Applied Improv Conference in Portland, Oregon.

The highlights were the scenery, autumn colours, fresh snow, Yosemite (wow!), indulging my passion for photography, sharing the improv conference with my good friends Anne Pattillo, Geoff Brown and Chris Corrigan and the deepening friendships that develop from shared experiences, seeing Geoff and Chris improvise music on stage in Portland, and reconnecting with old friends. There were also some people I missed, and some new friendships forged, many ideas, time to reflect, laugh, and re-energise. Time well spent indeed.

One step at a time

I’ve been musing on the differences between offering advice, making an offer and saying no – inspired by a recent conversation with a good friend. I just picked up the Saturday paper and was scanning the employment articles. Lots of fairly pedestrian stuff about writing resumes and so on. There’s also the inevitable ‘advice’ column – with lots of questions about what’s the best or right thing to do. This expectation that there really is a best way, exacerbated sometimes by an education system that rewards correct answers over creative responses, is ingrained and often emerges in groups and individuals when a decision is needed.

I noticed this in myself while on holidays in the United States recently. Will we do this or that? If we do this, will it be better than that? What might I miss out on if I choose one thing over another? The problem with this thinking is that there’s no resolution. You end up doing nothing, or putting off the decision until it’s too late, and missing out on both!

Improv performers face this dilemma constantly and train themselves to accept offers and to do something – anything as long as it moves the action forward. Trying to work out, in advance, the consequences of a particular action would be, well, insane. That’s not to say we should completely ignore consequences – no, no, no. There’s plenty of times we need to slow down and consider the impacts, on ourselves and others, of a decision we’re about to make. See – it’s not so easy. In the one breath I’m saying, ‘Do something!’ and in the other, ‘Slow down and consider the consequences.’ I guess the trick is knowing when to do what, and in recognising being stuck. When stuck, I try and do a little something just to move on.

Here’s a story I wrote recently about being stuck in Myanmar.

We returned to the hotel for a bit of a rest – and for Andrew, my colleague, to do more work on his handouts – agreeing to meet later to visit the spectacular Shwe Dagon Pagoda. At 5.30 I was waiting in the lobby. Andrew turned up and said he had too much work still to do and wouldn’t be coming out. It shouldn’t stop me though.

And so began my inner dialogue. One part of me – the rational part – was saying, yes, go to the temple. It was my only chance. Imagine coming to Myanmar and NOT going to the temple? Unthinkable. The other part – the emotional part – was screaming ‘but I don’t want to go on my own! I’m scared’. And so I sat on the couch in the lobby having this to-and-fro conversation in my head. Rational. Scared. Wanting to. Not wanting to. Maybe I could go during the week? Yes, that’s it. I’d go then. You’re crazy! Go now! What’s stopping you? It’s getting dark. How will I get back? What if I get lost? I don’t have enough local money. Oh, the excuses. I was STUCK. Stuck on a couch in the lobby of a hotel in a country I may never visit again.

And I thought of my patterns, accepting offers, of doing something.

So I walked over to the tourist desk and very tentatively asked about visiting the temple. Was it easy to get to? Yes! Only a 5-minute taxi ride. How would I get back? Taxi’s would be everywhere, and anyway here’s a little card with all the information I needed written in English AND Burmese. It’s all I needed. That little card. That talisman which meant I could find my way back to my temporary home.

Minutes later I was standing barefoot at the entrance to the temple, an English-speaking guide by my side, the most amazing, stunning Buddhist temple I’ve ever seen, all my senses alive with the sights, the incense, the marble underfoot, the feel of the jade and the carvings, the chanting. OMG, in that moment I felt utter relief that I’d taken the opportunity handed to me. I was reminded then of my favourite Keith Johnstone quote: Those who say yes are rewarded with the adventures they have; those who say no are rewarded with the safety they enjoy (or something like that).

I’ve never been more grateful for saying Yes!

Do you want fries with that?

Here’s some of my take-away’s from last week’s Applied Improv Conference in Portland, Oregon. This was my fifth improv conference, and my focus has shifted from learning improv to furthering my understanding of how to incorporate and apply improv into my practice. These are tasters – to remind me to write in more detail later. Let me know which ones you are interested in.

Performance improv is all about the audience – applied improv is all about the participants and their experience and learning.

To overcome the myth and perception of improv being a soft, kumbaya-type experience, ‘shock’ the participants with a ‘violent’, sarcastic or overly-competitive game.

There’s a tremendous hunger in organisations for individuals to be seen and to have the skills to communicate what they’re passionate about.

Improv trains your brain to sit with threatening or fearful triggers (such as unfairness, lack of choice, uncertainty, difference and status) and to react less often, and better.

Improv activates the part of the brain that loves to learn, as well as enabling innovation by creating opportunities for neural rings to intersect.

The purpose of Playback Theatre is community building. (And, BTW, I love playback!)

There are so many applications for gibberish in facilitation that I don’t know where to start. Don’t know why I haven’t used gibberish much before – that’s about to change!

So, what would you like to hear more about?