What is water . . .

DO YOU THINK THESE PEOPLE ARE . . . HAPPY?

Yesterday, an online group I belong to considered the concept of “happiness.” In these [ cliche of your choice ] times, what do you do to conjure up some happiness in your life? Our discussion began with the usual suspects: time with loved ones, music, happy places, meditation and exercise. But then we began to consider the concept itself. What is “happiness”? How do you know if you have it?

Our host played a speedy TedX talk by Shaun Anchor, who made some excellent points. One of them is that if we identify the attainment of a goal as the source of happiness, we have set a trap for ourselves. Because then we begin an endless game of Whack-A-Mole, in which happiness is never actually attained, since as soon as we whack one mole, a new one springs up and our happiness is delayed. We agreed that “happiness”, if such a state exists, involves a sense of satisfaction in a process, not a product. I thought of one of the prayer flags which hang in my kitchen: Happiness is when your work and words are of benefit to yourself and others.

And I thought of David Foster Wallace, the tortured novelist whose novels were too dense for me to read, but whose commencement speech to Kenyon College in 2005 is one of my favorite works ever. It’s called This is Water. To me, it is an extraordinary paean to mindfulness. It begins with a joke which is where the speech gets its title:

There are these two young fish swimming along and they happen to meet an older fish swimming the other way, who nods at them and says “Morning, boys. How’s the water?” And the two young fish swim on for a bit, and then eventually one of them looks over at the other and goes “What the hell is water?”

David Foster Wallace

He then goes on to describe how we live in a “default setting” in which everything that happens in the world is somehow about us, or against us, or caused by us. We are at the centers of of our universes. And that natural self-centeredness is a breeding ground for a wide variety of psychological distress. That is the “water” the two younger fish have no idea they are swimming in. Sidebar: it’s always been an important detail to me that the fish that asks them “How’s the water?” is an older fish.

For Wallace, the key to awakening to the water is awareness. It begins with the awareness that you are having thoughts, and that those thoughts are separate from you. They are noise, just like the TV, the leaf-blower and the hungry pet. This awareness leads to choice. You can actually choose which thoughts to pay attention to and which to let go of. This takes practice and it isn’t easy. But part of it, according to Wallace, is learning to pay attention to what’s happening, to really actually see it divorced from from your automated, default setting reaction to it. To be able to say, I actually don’t know what’s happening, I need to attend to it, take it in, consider it, before I decide I already know who this is, or what they want, or why they said that:

If you’re automatically sure that you know what reality is, and you are operating on your default setting, then you, like me, probably won’t consider possibilities that aren’t annoying and miserable. But if you really learn how to pay attention, then you will know there are other options. It will actually be within your power to experience a crowded, hot, slow, consumer-hell type situation as not only meaningful, but sacred, on fire with the same force that made the stars: love, fellowship, the mystical oneness of all things deep down.

This bit usually makes me a little weepy, written and spoken as it was by a beautiful and complicated human who took his own life three and half years after speaking these words. Because some humans can’t get out of the default setting. And it’s not their fault. Perhaps we need to pay attention to them - to their glory and their demise - and be grateful for our chance to feel the water, to celebrate it, even when the current’s strong, and it’s cold, and we’re swimming upstream.

I do not believe happiness is a choice. But I do believe we can cultivate practices which lead us away from fear and anxiety, and towards a sense of satisfaction which might be called “happiness”. And - no surprise - I believe improvisation practiced in groups, led by skilled and gentle facilitators, in person or online can be one of those practices. Because improv is all about getting out of your own head, paying attention to your partner, and focusing on the affirmative choices you can make together to create something original, bold and delightful.

Speaking of which . . .

What a summer!

I am proud and amazed at what we have accomplished since the pandemic hit mid-March.

• Eight pay-what-you-can online shows.

• 34 Improv Playgrounds

• Two online classes

• The creation and launch of our Patreon

• The creation and launch of our merchandise line.

• Creation and launch of our podcast ImPrOv'D

• Launch of an anti-racist task force, led by board member April Cohen and supported by Suzanne, Kiersten and Allison.

• . . . and everything else I forgot to mention :-)

We invite you to join us! You can . . .

• Register to see one of our two online shows per month!

• Enroll in one of our fall classes!

• Become a Patreon member and play in our Improv Playgrounds!

I could choose to focus on so many horrible things. But I choose to focus on this: the playful creativity a group of people have made just by making a commitment to each other. And in doing so, I am better equipped to deal with whatever life throws at me. Maybe that’s called happiness . .