Party

If yesterday’s prompt was hard, this one is a no-brainer. What social gathering rocked my socks off in 2010?

I’ve mentioned The Slips before, here.  We had just completed a few days work together. It was our final evening as a whole group staying in an apartment in the city. We’d been out to dinner each night, and finally exhaustion (or if the truth be known, the introversion of a couple of us) kicked in and we simply wanted a night in, to chill out and relax in each other’s company. Pizzas ordered, a few bottles of wine opened, a few beers, some nibbles. Everything for a great night in. Nothing remarkable there.

Then someone mentioned we needed a theme song. Out came the guitars – played by the talented Chris Corrigan and Geoff Brown. And the whole evening rocked from then on. We share a common interest in improvisation, so it was no surprise that improvised singing was the order of the night.

Johnnie describes his memory of the night: “I suspect we’ll all fondly remember the after-gig entertainment in Melbourne where we improvised a self-mocking song to mark our first shared collaboration, and I mischievously smuggled its chorus into an apparently serious radio interview the same evening.”

Yeah.

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I’m taking part, with 3000+ others, in a 31-day blogging challenge called #reverb10 to reflect on the past year and explore hopes for the coming year. You can read more about it here. December 9 – Party. What social gathering rocked your socks off in 2010? Describe the people, music, food, drink, clothes, shenanigans.

Finding love through improv

William Hall, founder of BATS Improv in San Francisco, wrote about finding love through improv. He says: Improv is one of the most playful things we can do as adults.  It combines fantasy, role-playing, social interaction and the excitement of performance.  It’s an emotionally charged activity.

Is it any wonder then that people fall in love playing improv?

Which got me thinking about the principles of improv and how they are, yet again, pretty cool principles for life with the people we love – whether we fell in love with them through improv or otherwise. Here’s some that come to my mind. What others would you add?

Make your partner look good

Make, and accept, offers…say ‘yes’

Be present – pay attention

Be average

Believing it’s possible at Bells

My friend Chris Corrigan introduced me to rock balancing, so it was only appropriate on a recent visit to Bells Beach (when the surf was pumping BTW) that Chris took the opportunity to do some rock balancing on my home turf. I hope to do the same on his home turf, Bowen Island, some time.

Walking towards Southside (away from the rocks), I looked back. A surfer was making his way towards the surf when suddenly the balanced rock caught his eye. He stopped dead in his tracks and stared. Then he walked around, maybe trying to figure out how it was done. There is no trick however. As Chris once described to me, you simply have to believe it’s possible. I’m sure the surfers on those huge waves understand. Believe it’s possible. Yes!

A more satisfying way of working

We’d just finished working together face-to-face for a week. We gathered in one of our apartments, too tired to venture out for dinner. We opened a bottle of wine, a few beers to celebrate and ordered pizza. Someone suggested a song. Two guitars, a group of friends – singing, laughing, improvising.

What were we celebrating? Our friendship. Our collaboration. A new way of working.

We come from Australia, New Zealand, UK and Canada. We share a love of improv, are skilled facilitators, blog, use open space, are curious, adventurous and love to travel. We like to do risky, edgy work. We each have our own businesses and work, naturally, in different parts of the world. We’re generous, with what we know and what we share. We each bring different, and complementary, perspectives. We play together. We work together. We’re individuals. We’re different. We agree, we argue, we struggle, we care.

Are you seeing a theme here?

Before we worked together we were friends. Separated by oceans. Connected by ideas. Inspired by an audacious plan. We’re still friends. Maybe even better friends. Family. Love. This is what binds us. This is what makes working together a joy. This is why we’ll do it again.

Moments

I sometimes talk about life-changing moments, decisions, change, choice, and accepting offers. It all seems rather trite right now.

For a friend of mine, a few moments on Friday changed her life, and that of her four young children, forever. It will be a defining point in their lives. Her husband, their father, was killed in a motorcycle accident. Instantly.

It is at moments like these that I am lost for words. And so unbearably sad.

Being prepared

My friend Geoff Brown is a talented facilitator, father of three energetic boys and a sometimes musician. In his spare (!) time he helps organise the excellent Airey’s Inlet Open Mic Music Festival. This year the festival in the small coastal community of Airey’s Inlet was held over three days, with seven stages and more than 120 acts.

I caught up with Geoff this afternoon as the festival drew to a close with a special mystery act – Colin Hay and his band who made a flying trip from Melbourne to play on the lawns of the pub with one of the best views on the surf coast.

Geoff played yesterday afternoon with his mate Clayton Derrick. He told me about their rehearsal schedule – this time 12 months ago at last year’s festival!

I love that.

Instead of having a plan, they were prepared to get up on stage and do what they do (and they do what they do very well), willing to improvise, have fun, make each other look good and entertain the punters to boot.

Remembering Brian

I sit here writing this post through my tears as I remember my dear friend and mentor Brian Bainbridge, who died yesterday morning, in his sleep, apparently of a heart attack.

Brian was a Catholic priest. We were invited to his 40th priestly celebration a few years ago. It was an odd event for us – we were proud to be there as his friends, and probably the only non-Catholics in the room. I still recall the puzzled faces as people asked my connection to Brian. “We work together,” I would answer, “in Open Space.”

Brian began as my Open Space teacher, advisor and mentor. We became friends and colleagues. We delivered Open Space training together, plotted the odd gathering including a World Open Space on Open Space (WOSonOS) in the now destroyed town of Marysville, travelled to WOSonOS events in Vancouver, Goa and San Francisco, and met often for lunch. He would drive down here for dinner, staying over night and quietly slipping away early in the morning as if he’d never been here.

In fact, that’s how he died. Quietly. In the manner of an Open Space facilitator – invisible, no fuss. But his impact on the world is anything but invisible. He lived an open space life. He opened space for others and was unendingly generous in his support and encouragement.

He was proud of what he achieved in his Parish, using Open Space, to transform it from a traditional hierarchy to a more democratic and inclusive way of being. It was not always easy. He persevered. He quietly opened space and allowed ‘whatever happens to be the only thing that could’. I’m glad he wrote it all down, in his eBook The New Parish Priest.

And it’s also his work in the world that I celebrate. His contribution to every single World Open Space on Open Space – USA, Canada, Germany, Australia, ‘Swenmark’, India, Russia, Ukraine, Taiwan. And his opening of space in places as diverse as rural Australia, Papua New Guinea, Cambodia, USA…

I remember him sitting in a circle – it could be any gathering, anywhere – quietly, listening no doubt to all the babbling around him. He would listen and he would wait, and then POW! He would say something that would have everyone reconsidering, thinking, nodding, puzzling. He would tell a story. And conclude with “I reckon”. Or if he was writing, it would always include, IMHO.

Oh. I will miss him!

Possibility

Maybe it’s the time of the year – long days, warm evenings, sitting about with a bottle of wine, chatting with good friends. End of the year, beginning of a new one. Is it any wonder that ideas abound? That anything seems possible?

I was listening to Sir Ken Robinson on the radio today. He was asked about ‘lucky’ people – what makes some people lucky? He said it’s about seeing opportunities, rather than barriers. Whatever makes us lucky, I feel incredibly lucky – to be living right now, to be able to work in different countries and with amazing people, to have really good friends just around the corner and on the other side of the planet, to be able to use skype to pretty much talk to anyone, anywhere, any time, to have people who love me and support me, to live in a beautiful part of the world, to make enough money to be satisfied and not so much that I’m obsessed, and to have opportunities to take advantage of all that.

So I want to thank you for the part you’ve played, and to wish you a Happy Christmas or joyful holidays or just a relaxing break. And I’m looking forward to a lot more conversations, new and enduring relationships, and everything that flows from that.

Friends and community

This last week I was reminded just how valuable friends and community are, especially for those of us who (mostly) work alone.

I was in India. Chennai. A city of some million people. I asked one of the Indian participants the population of Chennai. To be fair, he wasn’t from there, and his answer was, “Maybe 5 million. Or it could be 10 million. Not sure.” I pointed out that that was a 5 million difference. He shrugged, and smiled. I guess that’s how you feel about population when you come from a country that has 1,140,000,000+ people.

I was facilitating a five-day workshop with numbers varying from 80+ people to around 30. Participants came from around the world. Some were fresh and enthusiastic. Others were tired and jaded. This made for some interesting dynamics! The expectations also varied widely with lots of factions and interest groups jockying for position. While this kept me busy trying to juggle all these expectations, I was also on high alert watching for offers and noticing without judging – harder than it sounds!

Even though I was surrounded by people, many of whom I had met before, it was a bit lonely. I couldn’t download all of my thoughts to anyone, so my computer and my friends that live in it became a lifeline to sanity, to laughs, to reality and to some bloody good advice. So to my friends on skype, on Facebook, on ning and on email – a heartfelt thank you.

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.