Finding Joy and Healing Through Improv: A Personal Story

Grief is the roommate that no one wants, that comes uninvited when our loved one dies. It isn’t always as painful as the initial moment of death, but it’s a hum always playing in the background that can become a full orchestra at a moment’s notice. Until I lived through the death of my husband, I didn’t understand the extent of the pain or how special dates and anniversaries would cause physical and emotional upheavals. Finding creative outlets is one of the ways that I’ve learned to cope with loss, and it also keeps me connected to Mike. Many of these pursuits were unintentional but have made a massive difference in dealing with living my life the best I can.

Due to chronic conditions that I’ve developed over the last four years, I’ve had to adjust my creative pursuits. When the memories from before 2020 come up, I can’t believe that person was me. I would go to clubs around Phoenix and take photos of local bands playing. I would take many spur-of-the-moment trips to cities north of Phoenix to explore, photograph nature’s beauty, take mini vacations on my own, go downtown to events, and volunteer for the Phoenix Film Festival. It was a great way to meet a variety of people, many of whom were creative, and it helped me thrive and rebuild myself after Mike’s sudden death. In the last two years, since the death of my parents, I find myself once again at a crossroads of being creative with new limitations on my ability to participate in former things I loved because of long Covid and flare-ups of other chronic conditions. In the past year, I’ve taken up art again, which I can do at home and for pleasure. This summer, I started something I never thought I’d do, all because my friend shared seeing “The Play That Goes Wrong.”.

I hadn’t heard of it, though it celebrated its 10th anniversary in London’s West End this past week. I was curious and went down the YouTube rabbit hole but in a good way. I discovered Mischief Comedy, the theatre group that created the play, and their streamed improv during the pandemic called Mischief Movie Night In. It’s a long-form improv that the group would do based on the Zoom audience’s suggestions for a genre and title and suggestions for characters from social media. I watched all the videos and fell in love with the form. It was funny, which is great for increasing endorphins. Doing improv was not something I ever saw myself doing. However, having lived through the worst life events already, I figured what was the worst thing that could happen. Nothing as awful as what I’ve lived through, and I might like it. If not, I could stop.

I went on Meetup to see if there were any improv groups near where I live. The first one on the list was Community Improv LA, a virtual improv group out of Los Angeles. This was perfect. I didn’t have to travel and could always pop out of the Zoom group if it wasn’t for me. I had butterflies attending the first meeting, as I had no improv or acting experience. Stephen, the host and organizer of the group, was welcoming to everyone and made it feel like a safe place to be. Although initially, I felt uncomfortable when it was my turn to participate, I did it anyway. Observing how other people would act out a scene was also fun. I also found myself laughing at what people brought to the different forms that we did. The room stayed open after, and there was time to socialize. I signed up for the Wednesday and Sunday sessions, reserving the times in my calendar as a commitment to myself, and have been attending ever since.

I have found improv therapeutic in many ways. First, when doing improv, you are in the present moment, focusing on what others are doing and saying. It requires listening to people in the scene. The rest of the world drops away for the hour and a half that I’m participating. Next, it allows me to play and have fun. When we were kids, play was second nature, but it’s something we give up over time. Improv enables me to play again, relieving me from constantly being in charge of everything in my life. Before we start, Stephen has us think of our intention for coming to improv. Mine is always to have fun. After the first session, I became more comfortable putting myself out there and trying out ideas with the person I was in a scene with.

Another wonderful thing about improv is its impermanence. When the time is up, you let go of whatever you were doing. I take away from the session the joy of playing and being with other creative people.

I watched a TED Talk on improv. The speaker shared how our lives are all improvised. We make plans for the day and adjust to circumstances as they arise. That is certainly true when you must deal with the death of a loved one. You are making up a new story without knowing where you are going. You try out suggestions from others who have walked this path and see if they work for you. My experiences and knowledge of how fleeting life is have made me more open to finding outlets that bring me joy.

Click the links in the post for more information on the tools I’ve found helpful. Also, visit my Grief Resources page for other things that I’ve found helpful over the years.