<aside> 💡 Please note this post is part of the Seven habits of highly effective improvisers series. Please click here for an overview.

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According to Susan Messing, we all go through roughly the same process when we start to improvise. It happens something like this.

Stage One HOLY COW, I HAVE FALLEN DOWN THE RABBIT HOLE OF JOY! THIS IS LIKE JUMPING OUT OF A PLANE, HAVING A HOT FUDGE SUNDAE ON THE WAY DOWN AND THEN LANDING ON A SOFT CUSHION OF BEAUTIFUL NAKED PEOPLE. I NEVER WANT THIS TO END.

Stage Two I can’t do this. I hate it. What is funny? Why is everyone better than me?

Stage Three Thank god I’m getting better…

Stage Four Thank god I’m getting better…

Stage Five Thank god I’m getting better…

Stage Six Thank god I’m getting better…

Stage Seven Why aren’t I getting better…?

Stage Eight Why aren’t I getting better…?

Stage Nine I’m amazing.

Stage Ten I suck.

Now repeat stages nine & ten for the rest of your life.

I’ve been improvising for about 20 years now and I bounce between stages nine and ten so often and so rapidly that, were my self-worth a pinball machine, it’d be constantly flashing all its lights and going PING!

Sometimes I’m on top of the world. Witticisms and word play pour unhindered from my lips. I make strong, clear choices and communicate them elegantly. I find joy in movement. I paint new worlds in the air. I sketch characters in quick, deft strokes. I am alive with possibility.

But just as often, I stand rooted to the spot with my hands in my pockets and simply talk at my scene partner. My words trip over my tongue and land twitching at my feet. I act out of fear. I don’t listen. I chase laughs and end up sounding like a failed stand-up comedian from the seventies. Seriously, I might as well be telling mother-in-law jokes. I become small and scared and uninspired.

Up until recently I had no idea why certain shows would soar while others would fall and fester. There didn’t seem to be any rhyme or reason to it. I’d blame environmental factors, audience numbers, insufficient warm-up time, type of venue, temporary insanity, wifi coverage and the geo-political situation in Eastern Europe but deep down inside I knew the problem was far simpler.

It was me. And I didn’t know what to do about it.