Improv as Sīla Practice

Greetings, Friendlies. :)

I play improv. It’s a kind of make-believe for grownups. If you know the TV show “Who’s Line is it, Anyway?”, that’s improv.

Kalyana-mitta express surprise when I refer to improv as sīla practice. How could such undignified behavior qualify as ethical training? Where are the robes? Where are the cushions? Where is the silence?

I’ll let you in on a secret… sīla is a really big bucket. If we are willing to consider sīla, ethics, as a lived investigation, if we come to it with wise curiosity, sīla breaks wide open.

Let me show you.

No, But

Beginning with improv’s opposite, “No, but…”.

There is the standard:
Person1: “X”
Person2: “No. Y.”

But sometimes you notice this retort comes so fast, it’s not actually a response to content. It reads like a flinch. Like a saṅkhāra, a habit of negation, rather than a considered volley.

Or Person2 is so busy thinking what they want to say that they don’t actually hear what Person1 has said:
Person1: “X, X, X” (pauses for breath,)
Person2: “QSERPASFSDOIHLKJEF!”

Sometimes Person1 isn’t listening either and just goes back to, “X, X, X”; neither partner is moved by the other.

Then there’s the “No, but” where Person2 actually agrees with Person1, but they start the sentence with “No, but”:
Person1: “X”
Person2: “No, but, X”.

Here “No, but” reads as establishing hierarchy. If I can say “No” to you, I am positioning myself at least equal, preferably higher, in status. I get my way. Even if your way is my way, doesn’t matter. What matters is, I get my way.

Yes, And

“Yes, and” is the first tenet of improv. In every exchange, scene partners accept what is offered and build on it. Letting go of contradiction, cultivating affirmation.

We practice letting go of fixed views. Entering a scene, we carry expectations of who we are, who the other is, what the story might be. To “Yes, and” we must let go the moment our partner offers something new.

Example: I begin pantomiming washing dishes, vaguely imagining you and I are roommates. You bound in, “Hey, Mom! How did the cake-baking workshop go?!?” Instantly, I set aside my roommate storyline and pivot to your offer, “Oh, hey Sweetie. It went great!”

This is not just flexibility. It is relinquishment of attachment to view.

“Yes, and” is an act of radical generosity. I’m not just tolerating your storyline. I am actively seeking the perspective that makes your offer true. Sketchplanations illustrates this beautifully:

Image via the amazing: Sketchplanations.

“Yes, and” is collaborative. It’s not my scene. It’s not your scene. We are building this hot mess together. It’s a practice of inter-being.

When cultivating a Brahmavihārā, metta, for example, I am cultivating a mind which holds the entirety of phenomena in friendliness and well wishing. “Yes, and” cultivates a mind which holds all phenomena as acceptable, as correct. The very concept of “wrong-ness” is nullified. This brings deep inter-personal liberation. For so many of us, wrong-ness is painfully, debilitatingly, ensnarled with shame, but shame cannot live where “Yes, and” abides.

“Yes, and” is a practice of equality and trust. Not only do I listen because you matter, I trust that you listen because I matter. “Yes and” becomes a place of safety for us both.