My improv teacher in Melbourne talked about having to, on occasion, “sit in the shit.”
When a scene doesn’t go your way, or moved too fast for your killer joke, or your castmate shifts from a robot to a pirate…it can’t be corrected and the scene must go on. To sit in the shit means to feel everything happening, accept the new dynamic, and work with it instead of fight it.
I think about my scene as a calm cooking show host. I talked about a recipe and its link to my family. My scene partner was sitting in the shit, watching my aimless rambling. Initially reserved before the class, he storms on stage and shouts with managerial authority:
“WHO IN THE HOLY FLYING F**** ARE YOU TALKING TO?!”
His authoritarian abuse contrasting against my gentle ramblings created one of the funniest scenes all night if not the whole class.
If anything, to evolve through unpredictable circumstances with confidence, enthusiasm, and creativity is essential for improv. Sometimes, that means saying “yes, and” to whatever emerges, while also allowing your scene partner the oxygen to see something through. Other times, that means sitting in the shit.
To sit in the shit with improv is not too bad to bear, as there’s an obvious reason within a limited domain. A scene may not last much longer than a few minutes. The overall objective of amusing an audience also helps justify suffering through an unclear scene.
Life by comparison is different and harder.
Today, I am in the writing and life equivalent of sitting in the shit1. I do not know how long to sit in it, or where this is going or why. There may not be a purpose to why things are unfolding as they are or clever ways to rebound. If life is my scene partner, he has operated more like a grappling partner today…yesterday…this week? Doesn’t really matter.
The good news is one bad scene doesn’t mean a bad show, and one bad week doesn’t make a bad life. It isn’t the bad scenes that define us as much as we navigate and build on them. And oftentimes, something brilliant emerges after taking a moment to sit in the shit.
As I sit in the shit this afternoon on writing and life, I’m working to remember that there is grace in accepting chaos and tension instead of fighting it. The most memorable scenes in life and on stage reflect tension that ebbs and flows toward resolution in unpredictable and clever ways. To sit in the shit is not to be defeated as much as devising how to transform what is into something better.
Before you text or email me how I’m doing, I’m doing fine. No need to check up on me.