Imrpov, it's trendy

In my meandering quest towards self-actualization I've tried a variety of new things--writing, meditation, storytelling, yoga, folk dancing, running, and gymming, to name a few (and I just made up that last word because "exercising" or "working out" don't seem to be quite right...I go to the gym, regularly).

My last venture was improv, or improvisational acting.  Being in Chicago, the birthplace of improv, it was something I had to try.  Second City is well-known as the incubator of comedic geniuses like Dan Aykroyd, John Belushi, Steve Carell, Tina Fey, Amy Poehler, etc.... But in addition to their shows, Second City runs a robust training program.  There are classes for kids, teens, older adults, corporate types, movie makers, actors, script writers, voice over artists....you name it, they do it.



I had heard of one of the central tenets of improv, "Yes, and...," in strategic planning workshops.  The idea is that rather than knocking down an idea, you build on it.  This approach encourages the generation of unique solutions, builds trust, and creates a more collaborative environment, so they say.  As someone who frequently has to lead brainstorming and planning sessions, I thought I might benefit from learning more about improv.

In checking out the class schedule I noticed a class aimed at those 55 and older.  Only problem was that it was offered in the middle of the day. I guess there are a lot of retired 55 year olds out there. Not me.  I dilly dallied around for several months, debating about whether I had the time, money, and inclination to commit to 8 weeks of classes.  Finally, I pulled the trigger and signed up.

My eight weeks of classes ran January through February.  We were a group of about 18, with a disproportionate number of men (13 v 5).  I was the oldest class member, there was another "mature" man in the class, but the average age was maybe 27.
  
                                       
 
 What's a class like? Lots of games, like the kind of games you play at summer camp or a retreat.  We did trust building activities, like leading a blindfolded classmate through the halls, and cooperation building activities, like untangling a human knot. We threw imaginary balls to each other, sometimes 3 or 4 at a time. We passed around strange sounds and actions. We sang songs, rhymed words, talked in nonsensical babble, and mimed. The emphasis was not on being funny, but on the key elements of teamwork--trust; giving and receiving; recognizing, supporting, and acknowledging each other.

Not everything we did was comfortable or easy for me. I learned a bit about myself. I know I'm better with concrete tasks, and I could feel my logical side fighting for control in some exercises. But, when my partner and I took turns mirroring each other's motions and then let "invisible person C" lead us, I found I could let myself relax and be guided by our energy, rather than our brains.

At the end of the eight weeks I decided to sign up for the next session, then life intervened and I couldn't continue the classes. I'm not sure if I will go back, but I'm glad I experienced a bit of what improv is about.

Improv seems to be a trendy topic.  One of my Illinois Tech alumni uses improv exercises in her clinical psychology practice. 

 https://magazine.iit.edu/spring-2018/better-living-through-improv


I recently read another "mature" student's account of his Second City experiences.

https://medium.com/@JayGerhart/thinking-improv-do-it-my-first-18-magical-hours-part-1-6508349625dd

It is even being promoted as a perspective for those working with people who have dementia.

 https://changingaging.org/dementia/dementia-the-joy-of-living-an-improvisational-life/?utm_source=email&utm_medium=social&utm_campaign=SocialShares

Email

I think email is ruining the workplace. My concern isn't the quantity of the email I receive, it is the quality. At least once a day I have to deal with a situation where there was a misunderstanding through email. Sometimes they are very simple, but usually they involve people writing things they would probably never say face to face.  People insult each other, use rude and dismissive language, express strong emotions.  The conversation threads get long and complex.  There are blind copies, accidental "reply all"s, and indiscriminate forwarding of messages. People see email as a way to document their objections, concerns, and grievances. And they sure have a lot of them! 

I'm sure that workplace incivility isn't new (I did watch a few episodes of Mad Men, after all), but email seems to make it so much easier.  When you had to type out a memo, make copies, and circulate it you had more time to think about what you were saying or doing.  There was gossip and talk around the water cooler, but it wasn't written down and circulated.  I have colleagues who seem to spend most of their time writing emails.  To what end?  There is this need to accuse, refute, deny, document, argue, and complain.

The worst emails are written at 3 am.  I know, I've been there.  Never, never send an email you have written at 3 am.  Smart phones have made this so much easier. Used to be you had to get out of bed, fire up your laptop, open your email, and then type.  Now, you can roll over, pick up your phone, and let loose on someone.  Most of what we think at 3 am is not good, not good at all.  Write if you must, write if it will help you get back to sleep, but do not send.

If I could do one thing at work it would be limit the amount of email sent.

Slippery slopes

At work, I've been dealing a lot with the concept of a slippery slope. 

Here is what I've decided:

One sure way to keep from starting down a slippery slope is to never take a step forward.

Some of my favorite slippery slope images.......


                       


                       



                                                                               

Ordinary Time

Driving home last night I passed a church sign announcing the coming week's events.  At the top of the LED display was the line, "4th Sunday in Ordinary Time."

The Christian calendar has two main events, Easter and Christmas. Each is preceded by a period of preparation, Lent for Easter and Advent for Christmas.  Pretty much the rest of the year is "ordinary time."  (There are a few minor things like Pentecost and such, but they don't get whole seasons.)

It seems very appropriate that the first religious period in the new year is ordinary time.  It is a bit of a rest between the excitement of Christmas and the secular New Year and the arrival of spring and Easter, a quiet time that fits the January vibe of the Northern United States.  Roz Chast, the brilliant New Yorker cartoonist, sums up January this way:
                                    

Ordinary time. A holding pattern, a period of quiet, a lull.  Most of the year is spent in "ordinary time." We anticipate holidays with periods of preparation, but we don't have names for the aftermaths, for the times of recovery.  We spent weeks building up to Christmas and Easter, but quickly find ourselves back in ordinary time.

A lot happens in ordinary time.  The gray cold months of January and most of February (depending on the timing of Easter).  But also the whole long hot summer.  The time when we are expected to vacation, to rest, to restore ourselves. A lot happens in ordinary time.  Weddings, births, vacations, the end of school and the beginning.  We travel, we visit, we walk and bike, we swim and ski.  All on our own schedule, our own time, our ordinary time.

Puzzling

I love doing jigsaw puzzles, a topic I'm sure I've written about before (if I was a real blogger I would index my posts and be able to provide a link here to an earlier article. I am not a real blogger).  I love the orderliness of them, the transformation from a pile of pieces to a coherent scene.  I wonder if anyone has ever studied the spatial reasoning ability associated with jigsaw puzzles. In my experience, they are a largely female pursuit.  But, are they really different from Legos?  Why don't we talk about using jigsaw puzzles as a way to encourage women into engineering? 

This week I undertook a 2000 piece puzzle.  The first time I've attempted such a feat.  I admit to being a bit intimidated at the beginning. Luckily, I had looked at the puzzle measurements before starting and realized that the only surface available to me would be the dining room table. I would have been really upset if I'd started on the card table and then had to move!

Here is what the puzzle looked liked after day 1. I always like to do the border first. Unlike many puzzles, the sky was the easiest part and I started with that.

After another few days of work I got to this point. It felt like I had a long way to go yet, but I had finished the "window" and most of the shelves in the other corner.  The big open areas were the ones where the colors were very similar...save those for last.

Another day and I am almost done now...still left to do--the greenish-brownish wood at the bottom.  I was tempted to go to bed at this point, but decided to see if I could finish. I slowly worked on the wood, piece by piece.

This almost turned out to be a 1999 piece puzzle.  All done and one piece AWOL!!!  I blamed the cats.  They aren't allowed on the dining room table, but every now and then I would knock a piece to the floor and they would bat it away if I didn't quickly retrieve it.  I was pretty frustrated at not being able to finish.

But, eureka!  The piece was found and puzzle completed.

I feel more confident about attempting another now.  Like most things, you need to break the problem down into smaller tasks and tackle them one by one.  Look for the easy parts, work on those, and gradually the whole will fall into place.

Maybe next year I'll put together a big Lego set!

The Container Store

 

Recently I made a visit to the Container Store. It is a place that equally delights and terrifies me.  Walking along the aisles I feel so inadequate. How have I managed without special dinner plate storage containers?  I have dishes packed in cardboard boxes in the basement.  How have I managed without matching bins for rice, pasta, and beans?  My pantry doesn't look like this...


And that's just the kitchen side of the store. Once I venture over to the bedroom, or the office, I start to feel overwhelmed.  Would my life really improve if I had a bra rack? 

There is this mixture of optimism and despair. Maybe if I only had the right boxes, bins, or containers, my life would feel more complete, more stable. But, I'm so far behind...how could I ever catch up?  There are so many things I'm doing wrong...messy drawers, mixed up cupboards...is there any hope for someone like me?  I gaze longingly at closets with neat racks and hooks.  Could my life be that clean?  that tidy?  Would I want it to be?

Strength of weak ties

In the 1970's sociologist Mark Granovetter published an influential article on "The Strength of Weak Ties."  At a very basic level, he argued that it is not through our close, dense networks that we gain new information, but through our connection to other networks.  Some people serve as bridges, connecting two dense networks.  This allows information and ideas to spread from one group to another.  If every group is isolated from each other, then they can't access the people in other networks.  Here is a simple explanation, if you are really interested:

 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-Bm93gN1zJg
 

His ideas have been very influential and applied to many types of groups, from individuals to countries.

But, I want to talk about other dimensions, or meanings, of the "strength of weak ties."  I've lived in Chicago over three years now, and have begun to feel like I "belong."  What does that mean?  It means that the dry cleaner on the corner knows my name and remembers me when I come in. It means that a neighbor down the street who is often outside when I walk to the gym calls out and says, "Work hard!"  It means that the producer of the Moth storytelling events says, "Hi, Chris" when I walk into the venue. I don't have regular interactions with these people, I wouldn't call on them if I was sick. They are weak ties, but they create for me a sense that I'm known and acknowledged.

A few weeks ago I met two friends for a weekend getaway. We have been friends for about 50 years, but we interact rarely.  Years went by without any contact and even now we see each other infrequently. Still, we have a bond that is different from any others. It is not the same as siblings, but like siblings we knew each other all through the awkward pre-teen and teen years. We knew each others families, first boyfriends, and bad fashion choices. But, while we know a good deal about each other now, we are not active in each other's every day lives. We don't turn first to each other in times of trouble. We don't interact on any regular basis.  We have a bond that is both strong and weak.  Strong in history, weak in the present.  Those ties are important in their own right. In much the same way that Granovetter's bridges link social networks, our ties link our past and present selves.

So, today I'll celebrate all those weak ties.  The people who recognize my face today and give me a sense of belonging in the present and those who connect the me of today to the me of years ago and give me a sense of continuity.