I’ve been doing a lot of reflecting on improvisational leadership in the past week and what it has to teach us about leading through this bizarre and uncharted world we’ve found ourselves in—I think it may hold the key to getting us through.
First, a little background: I am a leadership trainer and team culture advisor at a boutique firm in Minneapolis. I also run operations for another business with my wife. I used to be the chief operating officer of a mid-size not-for-profit.
I’ve been helping to lead companies or helping other leaders lead their companies in one form or another for over 20 years.
AND…
I’ve also spent the last two decades as a professional stage improviser—primarily, appearing in the cast at Comedy Sportz Twin Cities since the year 2000, Improvisational theater is a unique form of theater in which we create new stories for audiences every night with no script, no plan, and no real idea of where we’re headed next. We have no choice but to just make it up as we go.
But I’m a planner by nature. I like to set a goal, make a plan, and then execute on that plan. I’m much more comfortable knowing where I’m going and where I’m headed. Many people who know me well describe me as careful and deliberate—so a 20-year career on the improv stage is an odd item to have on my resume.
To me, it makes perfect sense. I’ve always thought of improv as my cross-training. It helps keep those mental muscles for adaptation and risk-taking a little stronger and sharper both on stage and throughout the rest of my life and work.
Truth be told, there have been plenty of nights at the theater when I didn’t quite have the confidence that I had it in me to pull off a good show that night. The terrain can seem so unpredictable, the destination so murky—it’s tempting to just hide in the corner and do the minimum required to just survive the night. Why not just let others do the courageous work instead?
I’ve learned that great improvisation requires a certain kind of courage called Optimism. To create something meaningful, improvisers need to believe that a creative solution exists before they ever set foot on the stage. Often, they have no idea what that solution is when they embark on a new scene, but they still have utter confidence that they can find it. They trust that the script and plan will reveal itself one line at a time if they are willing to step out in the open and uncover it.
And almost every time, when I’ve leaned into that faith, and banded together with the other improvisers around me, we find something brilliantly valuable to offer to the crowd.
Optimism is not about being passive. It's a belief that a path through does exist, even when we can't see it clearly. It's about staying engaged even when the circumstances are daunting. It's about finding the next good thing.
I’ve noticed that same optimism and creativity over and over the past couple of weeks as leaders work to adapt and respond to ambiguity and uncertainty around them: an escape room business down the street that closed its doors but built “escape-room-in-a-box-kits” to rent to their patrons; neighbors who’ve built scavenger hunts for the kids in the neighborhood to keep them active and entertained while still maintaining safe physical distancing; stores setting aside dedicated hours for our most vulnerable community members; students converting dorms and university buildings into hospital facilities.
All of us have waded through our own fears and doubts in recent days. And while it’s very hard to see exactly where this story leads and how it ends—I have to believe that a great story does exist in it for each of us to find. It will take courageous optimism to uncover—but I know it’s there. Don’t hide. There is a scene unfolding for every one of us in this tale. There is a crew of others around you willing and ready to take the stage with you. Embrace what’s happening right now and offer what you can contribute today.
Have faith. Let optimism be your guide. Do the work. And the story will take care of itself.