Thursday, April 23, 2015

Towards more "Yes, and"s and less "but"s

Today we had a little Improv 101 workshop at Khan Academy, led by our colleague Kitt Hirasaki. I'm interested in improv both because I find it incredibly fun and stimulating, and also because I'm interested in the way it can help me improve the way I deal with every day life.

One of the great games we played was "Yes, and." In that game, two people go up and the first person starts off with a line of dialogue that hopefully sets out some aspects of the characters, their relationship, and the setting. The next person continues the dialogue, and regardless of what they say after, they must start their line with "Yes, and". This goes back and forth, continuing the scene, until it comes to a logical conclusion.

The idea behind that "yes, and" is to force the characters to fully embrace the reality introduced by the other character, and to build on it. They might still disagree on something in the scene, but they agree on the reality of the world they live in, and that makes it more believable for themselves and the audience. It makes the game collaborative instead of combative, and just feel more positive overall.

Since it promotes creativity and collaborative, the "yes, and" game has since been picked up by entrepreneurs and life coaches as a tool for businesses and organizations, and I just found there's an entire book named "Yes, and".

But back to me and my reality.

After the improv workshop, I went out to dinner with my partner. We were talking about something we weren't fully in agreement on, and happened to fall into the "yes, and" game, which made it feel more collaborative. We couldn't keep that up for long and it turned back into our usual dialogue style, and that's when I started noticing something: I start an awful lot of responses with "But." I haven't done a statistic analysis, but it felt like way more than the average response should start with.

Why? Probably because starting with "but" proves that I've found the hole in someone's statement -- which proves that I was smart enough to find that hole -- which proves that I'm worthy of love and admiration. I'm reading Radical Acceptance right now, which is helping me realize that much of my behavior is me trying to prove my worthiness, instead of me participating wholeheartedly in things I enjoy.

I would like to participate more, to collaborate more, to create more. Tomorrow, I'll try starting less of my responses with "But"; and perhaps even start them with "Yes, and." That may not be the game that gets me to change my worth-proving ways, but it's a start.