There are very, very few feelings that can top the high of a great idea. Seriously. When something clicks in my head—an answer becoming clear, an approach that can differentiate, a script that feels preordained, a visual that will seal the deal—I can practically hear the clicking sound, and it’s always followed by a burst of the kind of totally pure energy that only comes with really, really wanting to do something. It’s a fantastic, soul-nourishing thing, that feeling of your mind really earning its keep, and lately I’ve been paying closer attention to the pre- and post-ideation stages in an effort to better understand the creative process. You know, so I can repeat it, or at least set myself up for more frequent success.
Turns out, there are some consistent patterns to the formulation of magical ideas, and certainly some processes around their realization.
Here are my learnings so far.
Befriend your body clock.
You have to become attuned to when you’re hard-wired to being your most creative, and—spoiler alert—it’s probably during the same window every single day. Freelancers and others who set their own schedules are usually pretty well versed here. But if you’re used to 9-5’ing it, you might autopilot your day so much so that you’re not even conscious of when you’re firing on all cylinders. The only way to figure it out is to really turn inward, as my yoga teachers are fond of saying, and dial up the awareness to what you’re feeling, and when. Note these nuances—do your thoughts take awhile to heat up in the morning? Are things sharpest late, in the quiet of the night? Are you sluggish in the late afternoon?
When you come to know your window, protect that slot—try not to miss it, and clear distractions. Set it up with a mindful intention to be some degree of mentally productive. And don’t stress too much if you can’t solve for something outside of that time period. Just take an “awareness note”, and reassure yourself that it’s not impossible, it’s not you, it’s just “afternoon you”. Come back to it when you’re refreshed and ready.
My morning commute is a predictable ~40-minute period during which my mind is at its best, drawing connections I can’t conceive of later in the day. I’ve been awake and caffeinated for a good couple of hours, I’m trying not to look at my phone while I drive, and I’ve got Lake Michigan in all its moody glory in my peripheral vision. The day is wide open ahead of me, and all I can really do to pass the time is think. My best ideas formulate during that window, seemingly out of nowhere, and I get to the office itching to bring them to life.
Stimuli go a long way.
Because, of course, ideas don’t actually come out of nowhere. Something triggers them, whether we’re aware of it at the time, or only later. Often it’s as simple as pressure—I’m assigned to solve for something as part of my job, I go into hyperawareness mode and start paying attention to everything around me in the hopes of being inspired. And when I’m in that zone, it usually doesn’t take very long to find a spark.
So pad your creative window with kindling, with material conducive to inspiration. Surround yourself with stimulating content. Seek out magnificent or complex things to look at, and study them at length—go beyond your friends’ Instagram selfies and browse through the NatGeo feed instead. There’s so very much quality design accessible in market today that a trip through the throw pillow aisle at Target can get the wheels turning if you let them. Listen to thought-provoking podcasts to kill time without killing braincells. Remember: creativity is bred, not born.
Capture the idea while it’s fresh.
Period. The first 7 posts of this blog have been messily spec’d out for months in a little paper-and-pen notebook, iPhone voice memos, and a handful of conversations on the bleachers at Little League games. Otherwise? They’d be gone with the wind by the time said afternoon slump settled in.
Don’t be afraid to talk it out, but be careful whom with.
You’ve caught the Golden Snitch, and it’s awesome and shiny, and, if you’re like me, you’ve thought the entire thing through within 15 minutes and are madly in love with your idea by the time you’ve parked the car. You’re pretty certain it has to come to life, and in turn, that makes you feel shaky and vulnerable about putting it out into the world, because what if that world doesn’t get it, and by extension, you? What if they don’t see it the way you do?
They won’t, of course, and this is probably a good thing, because actually, many of our ideas aren’t anywhere as good as they initially seem. And vetting them out against other Minds on Fire is the only way to know for sure.
But, in soliciting feedback, do tread carefully. First, take the time to enjoy your idea while it’s yours, and yours alone. I mean, hey, these moments are personal, and they don’t necessarily happen every day. If it’s crystalline and beautiful in your head, it very well might be downhill from there, so take a second or two to appreciate your ability to problem solve. It’s a human gift, and to be aware of it, to use it, is to be deserving of it.
I start a handful of businesses a month, though they don’t often get further than some laps around the lobes of my brain, a hypomanic conversation with one of my family members or friends, and a single Google doc. That’s completely ok with me. I still think it’s fun.
When you’re ready to share your brainchild, to first turn the phantom into a thing that others can evaluate and consider, choose someone—and only someone—whose opinion you always value. Not sometimes. Always. You need to know going into the conversation that it will be worthy of the energy you’ve already generated and expended, that you won’t have to overexplain or undersell, and that any potential criticisms are likely to be valid because of who that person is.
Then, give it your best pitch.
________
Of course, it doesn’t end there. In fact, that initial conversation is only the impetus, the beginning of a creative idea-turned-project, but enough for now.
Next up: I’ll explore what happens when creative ideas meet business realities, when the circle of stakeholders expands, and how execution measures up against ideation.