I don’t know about you but I have been completely distracted by pivoting, adjusting for now, temporarily managing, waiting for – I know it is not going back to normal – but surely it will look somewhat like it used to, getting my hopes up, then making accommodations – again, and finally just considering switching from Netflix to Apple TV completely.

Let’s face it, impermanence is here to stay.

And, you know what I am going to say . . .  this is where the rubber meets the road for our practice!

Noodling Practice

So, in reflecting in what has been keeping me afloat, what has sustained me, I realized that I have been doing something that I used to call in the theatre “noodling around.”   It’s a way to keep active and moving forward, but not mindlessly in times of uncertainty – of creating something out of nothing, at least nothing tangible or concrete – without a script.  And isn’t that what life is like anyway?  It’s just so much more obvious these days, in the pandemic era, the sands are constantly shifting.

The value and intention of “noodling” in the theatre was to actually land with something like a script, a fully prepared, well-rehearsed show by opening night, a date often set a year in advance.  So while on the surface the practice looks like well, just noodling around, it actually can be very productive and creative.

In the Theatre

While most actors and directors started the rehearsal process with a written script, many –  like myself, often did not.  I would walk into an empty rehearsal studio with just an idea, an image or some short text.  Many months later, I would have a short piece of theatre or a whole show.  The process from A to Z involved this practice of “noodling.”  I guess you could call it free-writing on your feet.

How it worked is I would start with something I knew about the show or was interested in exploring to generate material.  For example, I started my last solo show, Ruthlessly Optimistic For No Apparent Reason with the image of hat scooting across the floor of an empty stage. Then I spent a couple of months playing, improvising, exploring, researching and experimenting, in short – looking like I was goofing around.  What made this not just goofing around, but noodling was that l was paying close attention to what seemed important or interesting to me. I was slowly gathering all the pieces I needed for the show.

During this rehearsal period I didn’t know what the final script would be – yet. When I had enough pieces or ran out of things to explore, I structured the show putting all the pieces in order, in a way that seemed cohesive with a beginning, middle and an end. This usually involved shuffling many index cards around on the floor, standing back and then reshuffling. (There’s probably an app for it now!)

In retrospect, I can see that the key to the noodling practice was relaxing with the unknown. Stepping into the open space, wholeheartedly, which quite frankly, felt like jumping off a cliff.

How did I find the courage to do this?  I didn’t look down!

~ I shifted from looking down where there was no plan to noticing and gathering and creating from all the bits and pieces of rehearsal.

~ I kept good notes on what worked and what didn’t, so that “failure” was just more information and part of the creative process.

~ I built a structure based on my experience – not what I thought should work, or what worked last time.

~ I gave myself time; time to play, improvise and look like I was goofing off.

Try Noodling

Having a script is nice.  It can give you a sense of security.  But what happens when the playwright changes the ending or drops a whole scene?

Many of us had a script we were following before the pandemic hit, one that got thrown away in the middle of toilet paper shortages, zoom meetings, isolation, canceled events, and waiting, waiting, waiting.  We don’t know how this pandemic era will end or what’s coming next month, next year or really even in the next moment.  It’s frustrating to keep shifting.  It’s stressful!

How can we move forward with our lives in the midst of all the uncertainty? How can we get stuff has to get done; bills paid, families raised, homes cared for when there is no obvious script or we feel stuck?

~ Instead to getting attached to the plan (script) of what we want to happen, or holding on to what it used to be, shift to listening more to your actual experience. What do you know – right now? What’s true for you – really?

~ Try stuff. Don’t just rely on your thinking to know what’s right for you. Wear your mask and notice how that feels.  Don’t wear the mask and notice how that feels.  Remember the intention is to gather information – not get it right the first time.

~ Build on what you learn. Shuffle around the index cards of your experience until they make sense to you.  It’s ok to not go to that party because you want to be sure you will be able to spend time with young grandchildren at Christmas.

~ Give yourself time. Time to not know, notice, reflect and listen deeply to yourself and those around you.

Noodling around is a way of making friends with the “not knowing” of our lives. It’s dangerously close to accepting impermanence, not as a temporary condition but actually the way things are.  It gives us a way to build a life, moment by moment, bit by bit.

It can feel like jumping off a cliff. So start with what you know now and don’t look down!

Happy noodling!