Creativity Isn’t a Gift. It’s a Practice.For most of my life, I didn’t think I was creative.
I leaned on logic. I liked structure, plans, and systems. I could solve problems efficiently, but I never saw myself as the kind of person who came up with original ideas. That felt like someone else’s territory — artists, designers, dreamers.
So I quietly labeled myself: not the creative type. And I avoided the work that felt unpredictable.
What changed wasn’t dramatic. It was slow and subtle. I began reading more widely. I wrote without knowing where it was going. I let conversations stretch a little longer. Over time, I noticed my thinking begin to shift. My mind wandered more. Ideas started forming connections where there hadn’t been any before.
Later, I found the science behind it.
Creativity isn’t innate — it’s plastic. The brain forms and strengthens creative networks through use. One key region, the dorsolateral prefrontal cortex, supports flexible thinking and problem solving. The more we engage in creative work, the more adaptive that part of the brain becomes.
But creativity doesn’t run on a single track. It moves in two modes: divergent and convergent thinking. Divergent thinking helps us generate ideas. Convergent thinking helps us evaluate and refine them. When we blur the two — judging ideas before they’ve had space to form — we stall the process.
That’s where I got stuck. I wasn’t out of ideas. I was shutting them down too soon.
So I made small changes. I wrote in five-minute sprints without editing. I left complex problems unsolved, knowing my brain would keep working behind the scenes. This is known as the incubation effect — when unconscious processing continues after we stop consciously thinking. It’s most active during walking, resting, or doing simple tasks.
I also changed what I fed my mind. I read things I disagreed with. Talked to people outside my field. Stepped into unfamiliar environments. Novelty creates new connections, and creativity lives in those connections.
Eventually, the ideas came back. Not louder — just clearer. Not because I waited for inspiration, but because I trained my brain to expect it.
Creativity didn’t arrive in a single moment. It arrived through practice — slow, intentional, repeatable. Not a gift I was born with, but a skill I built by showing up.
If you want to build your own creative practice, start here:
Creativity doesn’t start with brilliance.
It starts with repetition. For most of my life, I didn’t think I was creative.
I leaned on logic. I liked structure, plans, and systems. I could solve problems efficiently, but I never saw myself as the kind of person who came up with original ideas. That felt like someone else’s territory — artists, designers, dreamers.
So I quietly labeled myself: not the creative type. And I avoided the work that felt unpredictable.
What changed wasn’t dramatic. It was slow and subtle. I began reading more widely. I wrote without knowing where it was going. I let conversations stretch a little longer. Over time, I noticed my thinking begin to shift. My mind wandered more. Ideas started forming connections where there hadn’t been any before. Later, I found the science behind it.
Creativity isn’t innate — it’s plastic. The brain forms and strengthens creative networks through use. One key region, the dorsolateral prefrontal cortex, supports flexible thinking and problem solving. The more we engage in creative work, the more adaptive that part of the brain becomes.
But creativity doesn’t run on a single track. It moves in two modes: divergent and convergent thinking. Divergent thinking helps us generate ideas. Convergent thinking helps us evaluate and refine them. When we blur the two — judging ideas before they’ve had space to form — we stall the process.
That’s where I got stuck. I wasn’t out of ideas. I was shutting them down too soon.
So I made small changes. I wrote in five-minute sprints without editing. I left complex problems unsolved, knowing my brain would keep working behind the scenes. This is known as the incubation effect — when unconscious processing continues after we stop consciously thinking. It’s most active during walking, resting, or doing simple tasks.
I also changed what I fed my mind. I read things I disagreed with. Talked to people outside my field. Stepped into unfamiliar environments. Novelty creates new connections, and creativity lives in those connections.
Eventually, the ideas came back. Not louder — just clearer. Not because I waited for inspiration, but because I trained my brain to expect it.
Creativity didn’t arrive in a single moment. It arrived through practice — slow, intentional, repeatable. Not a gift I was born with, but a skill I built by showing up.
If you want to build your own creative practice, start here:
Creativity doesn’t start with brilliance.
It starts with repetition. |
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