During a discussion on improv hot takes, someone in our community Discord recently said, “Mind meld is a terrible warm up game that leaves players feeling worse”. I had a sneaking suspicion that this person had only ever played Mind Meld the wrong way, so I promised I would teach it to her the right way the next time we practiced. Since then, I’ve been told I “fixed” Mind Meld for her and that she refuses to play it the original way she learned it.
So here’s a few thoughts about Mind Meld, my thoughts on what purpose improv warmups serve, and how to play it correctly.
I believe it was Amey Goerlich (whose first and last names I always have to double check the spelling of) that showed me the light when it came to Mind Meld. It was always a favorite exercise of mine, but for all the wrong reasons. I loved puzzling out the connections between words and the serendipitous roar of applause when two players finally said the same thing. But I always had a nagging feeling that there was something wrong with it.
Compared to other warm-ups, it was slow. It involved too much thinking. Too much asking, “What’d you say?”. It consisted largely of players looking up into the air, hemming and hawing over whether the right word to connect Japan with banana is tropical or dessert (the correct answer is Donkey Kong, incidentally). And too often I’d find myself in a circle of people who just felt lousy that they couldn’t get the right answer after going around the circle five or six times.
(Also, what’s with the no repeating words rule? I once played Mind Meld where you couldn’t repeat words at all. What a terrible idea.)
Good improv warm-ups should reinforce good improv habits.
Good improvisers are quick on their feet, go with their guts, and play from the heart. Why then, would we ever teach students an exercise that requires them to:
- Slow down
- Clarify what they heard and only act once they’re sure
- Think about connections instead of finding them naturally
- Sometimes feel bad about themselves?
So here’s the right way to play Mind Meld. There’s less thinking involved. There’s more fun, and more discovery. Like doing an improv scene, if you trust the process, you’ll get more out of it.
- Circle up. This means standing about 12-15 inches from shoulder to shoulder with each person on either side, in a circle where everyone can see one another.
- Two adjacent players turn towards one another and make eye contact.
- The two players count down from three to one.
- They both says any words in the English language or otherwise.
- One player then turns to the next player, with whom they make eye contact.
- The two players count down from three to one, and try to say a word that feels like it lies between the two words previously said.
- Repeat steps 5-6 until two players say the same word at the same time.
These steps probably sounds familiar. Here’s where it differs from how you might normally play Mind Meld:
- No stopping. There is a rhythm to this game when played correctly. It sounds like this: “3, 2, 1, word! (beat) 3, 2, 1, word! (beat) 3, 2, 1, word! (beat)”. Just say your words, turn, lock eyes, and go.
- No repeating. This doesn’t mean you can’t repeat words. This just means there’s no stopping to ask “what did you say?” If you didn’t hear what the previous pair said, go with whatever you thought you heard. If you didn’t hear both words, say anything.
- No looking up. Or down. Or anywhere but into your scene partner’s eyes.
I have played Mind Meld this way probably hundreds of times. You know what rarely happens when players really dial in, commit to the pacing, and stop caring about getting the right answer? Going around the circle more than once. Seriously. It’s rare to get caught in a Mind Meld Death Spiral ™️ when playing this way. Because, when we stop thinking about “winning” Mind Meld and get out of the way, we let the process take care of itself. Let’s look at all the great things this version of Mind Meld reinforces:
- Commitment. Honestly, it doesn’t matter if someone doesn’t say a word. What’s the connection between Himalayas and a worried grunt? We’ll find out in 3, 2, 1… (Timbominable Snowallen)
- Eye contact. The answer lies with your scene partner–not your head and not in the ground. That’s where dead people are (h/t BOC).
- Following your instincts. Don’t know what you heard? Say what you feel.
- Trust the process. There really isn’t more to improv than getting up on stage and saying yes to one another’s ideas. Everything else is window dressing. Once you believe that and really give yourself over to the process, all the mystery goes away.
Try this with your teams. See how good it feels when players really commit, and recoil in shock when two players connect on something completely absurd–or, as happened the last time I taught this to a group, two players start on the exact same word (“tree”). I promise you’ll have more fun and spend less time worrying. Why improvise any other way?
