Tag Archives: experience

All the world is an improv stage

Think of the roles you play in life: A child, son or daughter to parents… Sibling. Student. Friend. Employee/Boss. Boyfriend/Girlfriend. Husband/Wife. Parent. Caregiver….

We take on so many roles in our lives. And when we take them on, we do so without an instruction manual. We play the role, not knowing how to really do it. You can be trained for a job, but not for every scenario you face. You can model yourself as a parent based on what you’ve seen other parents do, but your child will challenge your skills in unexpected ways.

Every role you take on will put you into situations where you are going off script, you are improvising to the best of your abilities. Sometimes nailing the role and making great choices. Sometimes bombing and making decisions that make the role harder.

All the world is a stage, and we are all actors, playing parts we learn as we play them. Some people play certain parts really well, while they flop in different roles. Not too many people, if any, are able to play each of their roles without struggling somewhere. We admire those that put on a show and do things really well. We complain about those that can’t or don’t play their role well. We often lack confidence that we can do our role well enough.

We are far more critical of how we play our roles compared to others. We often feel like we are the only ones acting… everyone else has a script. But there is no script. There is no one path, improv doesn’t work if everything is set up. It has rules to keep going well. It’s better to support the actors around you than it is to cut them off. It’s better to understand that you share the stage than trying to go solo.

It’s not about getting everything right. It’s about helping others when they are lost for their lines, their roles. It’s about sharing and laughing. It’s about enjoying the performance, even when it’s challenging. It’s about taking on new roles, and trying new things.

The world is your stage. The play is your playground. Improvise your roles as best as you can. And remember that others are improvising theirs roles too. Work with your fellow actors to create the best performance you can. But remember it’s all an act, and if you aren’t playing a role that works, change the role or change the way you act in it. All the world is an improv stage, and so you get to write the script as you go. Enjoy the performance, you only get one.

Time dilation

Yesterday I experienced a bit of a time warp. My morning went a bit slow, both in my productivity and in how long it felt. After lunch it felt like everything was thrown my way, and I was constantly on my ‘to do’ list, which seemed to be filled with things that took longer than they should.

At one point a package arrived, and I thought I’d take a break and take it to the teacher who ordered it. When I passed my grade 9 classroom it was empty, and I wondered where they were? As I learned, they had left for home. I thought it was about 2:30 in the afternoon and it was actually 3:50. It was almost an hour and a half later than I thought!

I’m always amazed by experiences like this. How can one hour of busy work or fun disappear, and another hour of slow work or boredom feel like an eternity? Just like actual time dilation is about time being different based on relative velocity, it seems as though we can experience this based on the velocity of our thoughts relative to actual time.

I also wonder about how relative time is based on our age. Five years is half of a lifetime to a 10 year old, but just 1/11th of a lifetime for me. Does my perception of time change with age? Does the importance of events alter because of the relative time of the experience compared to how many more experiences the event is compared to?

And what makes a single day feel both short and long at the same time? It’s early April, and I already know that the school year will be ending before I realize it. I’ll be swept up in all the things that are coming up, like report cards and grad prep, and suddenly I’ll be saying goodbye to a whole group of students. On that journey I’ll have long and short days, but looking back at the end of June, I’ll think the days from now until then just breezed by.

It’s not just a day in time that dilates, but weeks, months, and years too. It just seems strange… We want to fill our time with activities and events that are enjoyable and thus tend to go by faster. So, we are literally speeding up our lives. But the alternative is to spend a perceptually longer life that is less busy and enjoyable. Is one of the goals of life to have it feel like it’s going too fast? Or is this just an outcome of a good life?

One cation I think this brings attention to is that if time is going to race by, we should at least do our best to make it joyful and not just busy. Because time can also race by when we are just busy, but to what end?

Walking in one vs two worlds

I have shared that I’ve been blind to my own privilege. In the post I described how, “Despite my 1/2 Chinese father and my predominantly Ashkenazi Jewish roots, I have a look that Italians mistake for Greek, and Greeks mistake for Italian. I am neither. I’m used to not fitting into any box. In fact, whenever I have to fill out a survey that asked my race, I never check ‘white’. I always choose ‘Other’.“

But I am privileged. I pass as a white person even if I don’t identify as one. I am an immigrant, but that’s not something anyone assumes of me… meanwhile there are many second, third, fourth generation Canadians that might be thought of or assumed to be immigrants because of their appearance. I don’t have to live in 2 worlds. I don’t have to think about how others will perceive me. I don’t have to think about biases that people will judge me on based on my appearance.

This is why privileged people don’t notice their own privilege. When you live in just one world, you don’t know that you are missing another world that others have to deal with. The absence of something you’ve never had to deal with is not something that you know you are missing.

If you have never been hungry because you can’t afford food, you don’t really understand hunger. If your whole life you’ve seen a full spectrum of colours, you don’t know what it’s like to be colourblind. If you don’t have a learning disability, it’s hard to understand why someone with one can’t learn the same way as you.

Now flip it around, if you have gone really hungry, actually starving, and you’ve also seen people not ever face this, you understand there are two worlds. If you are colourblind and you are around people identifying things by colours you can’t see, you know that you are missing out, and likely always will. If you have a learning disability you get to watch others not struggle learning a relatively simple concept, while you do.

When you live in two worlds and you are disadvantaged in some way, it’s easy to see the privilege of not having to live in both worlds. When you live in just one, it’s harder to see the absence of the second world as being privileged. But it is.

The Wakeful Lucid Dream

When I was in my early 20’s I went through a period where I had trained myself to lucid dream. It was challenging because often, when I discovered I was dreaming, I’d get excited and wake up, ruining the experience. When it worked, it was amazing! The thing that I enjoyed doing the most was flying.

Last night I had a unique experience. I went to the spare room late at night to meditate, because I wrote for too long in the morning and didn’t have time to both meditate and exercise as part of my morning routine. I lay down rather than sat up and ended up falling asleep with my phone on my chest, moments after hearing the guided meditation end.

Shortly after dozing off I opened my eyes and my body was frozen. I couldn’t willfully move a muscle. I could see my chest rising with my phone on it. I could even see that the reflection in my turned off phone changed with my breathing. However, I couldn’t move a single muscle no matter how hard I tried, because I was still asleep. The first time this happened to me decades earlier, it was a frightening ordeal. But this time as I struggled to raise my hands, I felt them dislodge from my locked body and lift up in my dream state, despite not seeing them move. This control of an invisible body let me know that I was still dreaming. I was dreaming with my eyes open, aware of my body on the bed, phone on my chest, fingers clasped just above my belt buckle.

It didn’t last long, I sat up in my dream and visually I switched to the dream world, seeing a mirror directly in front of me, and looking at my reflection. I wasn’t sure what I should do so I tried to fly. I floated towards the door of the room, got excited to be flying and found myself looking at my waking body, suddenly no longer locked in the sleeping position.

I wiggled my fingers. I saw my phone on my chest, and could see that as my chest raised and fell with my breath, there was a reflection of a picture on the wall that moved in the dark screen. Remembering seeing this movement made me realize that while I was sleeping I wasn’t just dreaming that I could see my body, I actually had my eyes open and was aware of my body.

This was a short but very freaky experience. I was dreaming with my eyes open, simultaneously aware of seeing my physical body and also aware that I had no control over it my my dream state. I’m not sure I’ll be able to replicate this, especially since I had nodded off with the light on, but on most nights if I opened my eyes and saw the world while I dreamt, it would be dark with little detail to see.

I’m going to spend the next few nights trying to see if I can start to lucid dream again. The strategy that worked for me years ago was to tell myself before bed that if I noticed I was dreaming to simply lift my palm in from front of my face. If I could do this in a dream, that meant I had control of my dream… and that meant I could fly!

Sometimes I had to flap my arms other times I could just soar at will. Last night for a brief moment I got to float, and I want to feel the sensation of flying again. I’m not sure I can replicate the wakeful, eyes open, aware of my body sensation while dreaming again? But hopefully I can once again start controlling my dreams and taking to adventures in the air.

The sales pitch

We bought a TV last night from a wonderful man with the softest sales pitch I’ve ever experienced. This included going to competitor’s web pages to show us their prices, and sharing the actual cost of the TV we were buying. It was a smooth, sincere sounding pitch, from a delightful person.

He gave us a bit of his sales background as we were paying. During that time he said he started his career in car sales but he couldn’t stand it because, “It’s impossible to sell a car without lying.”

He didn’t tell us which car company he worked for. He did mention a couple different ‘big box outlets’ he worked at for over two decades, without saying anything bad about them. And the he shared the name of one he worked for, for just 6 months, that we should never buy from. And of course, now that he knows us, he can share the same kind of deals with our family and friends.

Except for the fact that he was the busiest salesperson on the floor and we had to wait a couple times while he dealt with other customers, the whole experience felt positive… from the first time we talked to him on the phone to when we left the store.

One funny point is that when he was on the phone with us, we thought he was a young, enthusiastic sales person, on his first sales job. We arrived and was told he was in the back with a customer and walked right by him without knowing him. When he found us he said, “Didn’t I tell you to look for the short bald man when we were on the phone?”

He didn’t, and my wife and I had a good chuckle about how mistaken we were about what this man would look liked. But the mistake fed into the appeal, who was this older-than-us man who sounded so genuinely enthusiastic to serve us over the phone? Turned out he was a nice man, working for a good company, with the smoothest, most enjoyable sales pitch I’ve ever heard.

A commissioned sales job is not a job I could ever do, and so I have respect for someone that can do it so well.

20 years experience

I heard a question yesterday that really made me think. The question was, “Does he have 20 years experience, or one year of experience repeated 20 times?”

Years of experience is different from years of growth. Many students finish grade 12 and graduate. Some did the bare minimum, some got really good at ‘doing school’ year after year, some come out lifelong learners ready for anything that comes their way, and will actually seek out new learning experiences.

The same can be said for teachers, doctors, lawyers, and tax accountants. Some get good at doing the same thing over and over, some are constantly learning and becoming better… many are a mix between the two.

What are you really good at? How long have you been doing it? What do you suck at, despite putting years into it? And for the latter, what are you going to do differently, so that you are adding to your experience, and not just your years of doing it.

I’ll never look at expertise the same again… ‘years of experience’ comes in many different forms.

The Van Gogh Exhibit

Here are some images and a short video from the Van Gogh Exhibit at the Vancouver Convention Centre:


This was truly a visual experience to be had. It begins with written information shared in socially distanced panels, then opens to the room in the images I shared above (there are 6 to scroll through on the Instagram post). If you get the opportunity to go, you will enjoy it.

Headspace

Yesterday I spent a good part of the day inside my own head. I don’t know if I’m the only one that experiences this sensation (or rather lack of sensation) or if it’s a quirk of the human condition we all experience? I was able to do my job, and I could interact with others, but I felt more like an observer than a participant. I wasn’t fully present.

This isn’t a headspace that I particularly enjoy. It is one where I don’t feel fully engaged in the world. I feel like a visitor in a foreign land, a stranger that vaguely understands my surroundings. I have to work to stay focused on a conversation because my thinking is too loud but not terribly interesting. I feel somewhat disengaged, not just from others but from myself.

Thankfully, the feeling is gone this morning. I don’t like to spend too much time ‘there’. It’s like the world outside my head is a movie that I must watch, but don’t really want to. Reading this now I feel like this should be titled head-case rather than headspace and wonder if someone reading this will recommend psychotherapy… but I also suspect that others will fully understand this experience. Is it really just me, or do others have these moments too?

I imagine for some people this can feel scary. For others, comfortable. For some they can put themselves here, for others they can’t leave. For me it is infrequent, it is not something I can talk my way out of, and it seldom lasts more than a day. It’s just a headspace that I sometimes get into… a mode of observing my own participation in the world around me, yet not feeling present.

The fluid nature of time

It will only take a minute, so indulge me and give this a try. Start a stop watch, close your eyes, relax, and without counting in your head, try to stop it after one minute.

How did you do?

We count seconds between lightning and thunder to see if a storm is getting closer, but when else do we keep track of seconds?

Sports teams hold time outs and the play gets stopped. Often in the final minutes and seconds of games like American Football and basketball, these stoppages can make a few seconds take an eternity to play out.

And on the other hand, we roll our eyes and get frustrated when a web page takes 3 seconds to load… forgetting the days of dial-up when a page with a simple image would take 15-45 seconds, and a large file might fail to load after several minutes.

Our relationship to time is changing. We used to hear and even feel the sound of a clock or a watch second-hand ticking. Now a second is an unfelt moment that sweeps by on a stop watch that also measures tenths and hundredths of a second just as easily as seconds.

How does the concept of time differ for people today, when they are never alone and bored? Do kids ever feel bored the way I did, when they are entertained and/or connected to other kids through their phones? On demand friends, on demand videos, on demand games must surely alter their perception of time. Does boredom come faster or slower to someone with such a different experience growing up?

At 52, the years seem to go quicker than they did when I was 26 or 13. Is that because a year of my life now is relatively less of my total life than when I was younger? Or are there external factors influencing my perception?

I’m reminded of this poem:

If you want to know the value of one year, just ask a student who failed a course. 

If you want to know the value of one month, ask a mother who gave birth to a premature baby. 

If you want to know the value of one hour, ask the lovers waiting to meet. 

If you want to know the value of one minute, ask the person who just missed the bus. 

If you want to know the value of one second, ask the person who just escaped death in a car accident. 

And if you want to know the value of one-hundredth of a second, ask the athlete who won a silver medal in the Olympics. ~ Marc Levy

I understand that our perception of time differs due to our experience. An hour of boredom feels like it lasts considerably longer than an hour socializing with friends. But beyond that does it feel to you, like it does to me, that time moves much more quickly now?