Lifeprov.
Using the rules of improv, we took some advice from Bill Murray, and found ourselves on a pathless path of constant experimentation and play.
A year ago, you probably didn’t expect to be where you are now, doing what you’re doing. You can’t ever really predict the future. But then again, maybe you have been doing the same thing for so long you can’t remember the last time life surprised you. You set goals and you stick to a plan to try to make them realities. Then you achieve those goals, and somehow it still isn’t quite how you expected it to be.
What if you looked at everyone’s life and saw the same pattern? What if you then identified you were following that same pattern too? If we remove our assumptions about being able to control our life what do we have left? Don’t we then need to transform ourselves?
Back in Toronto I was living a pretty typical bachelor lifestyle. I worked all day at the bank, and spent my evenings pursuing my hobbies and nights socializing in bars. My hobby of choice was improvised theatre, and Toronto was one of the few places in the world where there are enough opportunities to do improv every day. Since I had just recently started doing theatre again (it was my main thing in highschool, but I hadn’t done it for over a decade) I felt compelled to do some training to get better, and to get into the community. I was taking classes at the Second City Training Centre. This is where I met Jenna. We were both in a class called “Yes And Then What” (a play on the main motto of the Second City — “Yes And”). I recall an instant connection between us. We both had an unconventional approach to improv, and that caused me to feel a kinship between us. One night after class she gave me ride home. We talked a bit, and I felt a sudden deep connection with her. My hopes were dashed when she mentioned she was married. I shouldn’t have let that be an obstacle to getting to know her better, but me being my usual awkward self, I squandered the opportunity and she disappeared from my life for almost a year.
Months later, I became more engrossed with my improv studies, as I graduated to the Long-Form program at Second City, and had begun performing in and attending improvised shows all around the city. A possible romantic interest lead me to a show I liked to watch. The group was called Tomes, and they performed an improvised narrative based on the blurb from the back of a random fantasy or sci-fi novel. I was feeling a bit isolated at the show, since I didn’t know anyone else there, so I went to sit upstairs a while by myself, and considered leaving to go see a different show. Then, when I came back downstairs I was happy to see Jenna there! It turned out that she was there for similar reasons, and we both didn’t really have anyone to hang out with. We talked, then we sat and watched the show together. Communicating with her was as effortless as I remembered. It was so refreshing how open she was compared to everyone else I had met in the city. I was also very impressed when she was spontaneous enough to join me to see another late night show elsewhere in the city. She even walked with me in the rain all the way there, and we told our life stories to each other. I learned that she was no longer married, and I was glad to hear it.
In the coming months, I was happy to keep running into her at shows and we even started doing improv together as we created our own troupe named Savage Attack with a few other guys. The rehearsals we did together were the most fun I had doing improv. I suppose it was inevitable that she and I became lovers, and we transitioned into it very naturally.
Our connection was deep and strong, and there was no denying it. I had no idea I could feel such a connection with another being. Many nights we spent getting to know each other, and I felt like I lost my identity, and became one person with her. Over the months we spent more and more time together, until eventually we couldn’t bear to leave each other’s company.
We took the improv concept of the “group mind” to the extreme and started saying “yes, and…” to everything either of us said in real life.
“Let’s go see a show.”
“Okay, let’s walk there in the rain.”
“I want to kiss you.”
“Come out for a drink.”
“Let’s go up the CN Tower.”
“Okay, let’s have a fancy meal date in the revolving restaurant at the top.”
“Buy a mattress and I might sleep over.”
“You can move in if you can hide everything in the cupboards.”
“I should buy something to put in my empty fridge.”
“Popsicles!”
“When I’m with you in seems like anything is popsicle.”
“Let’s go camping.”
“Okay, I’ll call in sick so we can have an extra long weekend.”
“I wanna spend more time with you.”
“I’ll quit my job.”
We got rid of all our responsibilities.
Then we got rid of all our stuff.
In an improv show, to prove that you are making everything up, you ask the audience for a suggestion that will inspire your set.
We saw a video of Bill Murray giving an impromptu speech at a bachelor party that gave us our inspiration:
If you have someone that you think is the one. Don’t just sort of think in your ordinary mind and think okay lets make a date, let’s plan this make a party; we’ll get married. Take that person and travel around the world. Buy a plane ticket for the two of you to travel all around the world and go to places that are hard to go to and hard to get out of. And if when you come back to JFK, when you land in JFK and you’re still in love with that person, get married at the airport.
We have been travelling together ever since we saw that. And now it has been over one year on a Round-the-World ticket living a deliberately challenging lifestyle. It’s fun. We have become a nomadic improvisational lifestyle duo researching and conducting experiments in consciousness hacking.
Right now we have no plans to land in JFK. Our last flight lands us in Florida from Jamaica. We were high when we made that decision, and it pretty much cannot be changed.
Our camera and Jenna’s purse were recently stolen in Rome.
And we’re okay with that.
