E47 Transcript
Somewhere between elementary school art class and adult life, most of us stopped calling ourselves creative.
We traded crayons for calendars. Paint sets for planners. And before we knew it, “creative” was a word reserved for someone else — the artist, the designer, the person brave enough to wear mismatched socks on purpose.
We were ALL creative as children.
But here’s the thing — you didn’t lose your creativity. You just stopped using it.
Somewhere along the way, life told you to be practical. To grow up. To get serious. And in the process, imagination got pushed to the back of the drawer with the watercolor set and the glitter glue.
I get it.
For me, creativity was my career — until it wasn’t.
When I left the garment industry after thirty years, I thought I had to reinvent myself completely. But what I eventually realized was that my creativity hadn’t gone anywhere. I just wasn’t giving it the same outlet. It was still there — quietly waiting for me to use it again.
And that’s what today’s episode is about.
Because creativity isn’t limited to what we paint, sew, or make. It’s how we think. It’s how we solve problems, how we imagine, how we connect dots that don’t seem related — and how we find beauty in things other people overlook.
So if you’ve ever caught yourself saying, “I’m just not creative,” I want you to hang around today — because you absolutely are.
You just might need to dust off that part of yourself that’s been a little too well-behaved lately.
So let’s clear something up right now — creativity does not automatically mean artistic talent.
Somewhere along the way, we all started using those two words interchangeably, and it caused a lot of unnecessary confusion. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard someone say, “Oh, I’m not creative — I can’t even draw a stick figure.”
And every time, I want to say, “That’s not the test.”
All artists are creative, yes — but not all creative people are artists.
It’s like that old saying: all thumbs are fingers, but not all fingers are thumbs. Creativity is the larger category — it’s the thinking, the curiosity, the experimentation. Artistic talent is just one of the many ways it can show up.
The truth is, we’re all creative — just in different languages.
Some of us speak in fabric and thread. Some in color and paint. Some in spreadsheets, lesson plans, or garden beds.
I mean, honestly, have you ever watched someone manage a family schedule, juggle three school drop-offs, make dinner from the fridge leftovers, and still remember to feed the cat? That’s creative thinking. That’s orchestration at its best.
We’re living in a time where creativity shows up in ways that don’t always get credit — how you design your workspace for more sanity and less anxiety, how you rearrange your day to make room for what matters, even how you problem-solve and pivot when things don’t go according to plan.
It’s not about whether you can paint a masterpiece. It’s about whether you can see possibilities — whether you can look at what is and imagine what could be.
Let me say that again – it is when you look at what is and imagine what could be. Seeing the possibilities.
That’s creativity.
It’s curiosity in action.
It’s the voice inside that says, “What if I tried it this way?”
And if you think about it, that’s something you’ve already been doing — every single day — whether you realized it or not.
But somewhere along the line, we were told to trade imagination for responsibility.
Structure for spontaneity.
Logic for wonder.
And for a while, it made sense. We had jobs to do, bills to pay, kids to raise. The world rewards predictability — not play.
But the problem is, predictability doesn’t leave much room for curiosity.
When every day is about efficiency, creativity starts to feel… well, a little impractical.
Here’s the kicker though — science has been proving for years that curiosity and imagination aren’t just nice-to-have extras. They’re essential for problem solving, emotional resilience, and even mental health.
Neuroscientists have found that when we let our minds wander — the same “daydreaming” we were once told to stop doing — our brains actually form new connections. We become better thinkers.
And yet… we’ve built an entire culture that tells us to fill every spare moment with content.
The digital world feeds us that content, for sure, but it starves us of imagination.
We scroll, we pin, we save ideas — but we rarely give ourselves the quiet space to create one of our own.
We consume creativity instead of living it.
So, if you’ve ever caught yourself thinking, “I just don’t have time to be creative anymore,” maybe the problem isn’t time. In fact, I’d say it outright – the problem isn’t time.
It’s noise. It’s that we fill all the time we do have with noise, and never just let our mind wander.
We’re surrounded by inspiration but disconnected from interpretation.
And when that happens, creativity has no choice but to recede into the background — it becomes very quiet.
It waits. It gets a little stiff, a little rusty.
So here’s something to think about:
When was the last time you let yourself get bored — really bored — and noticed what your brain did next?
Because that moment, right there, when your mind starts to wander toward something interesting or odd or beautiful or different?
That’s your creativity, still alive and well — just waiting for you to listen.
That voice — the one that starts whispering the moment things get quiet enough for you to hear it — that’s the part of you that’s been waiting for permission.
Permission to explore, to tinker, to play without turning it into a task.
So let’s do that.
Let’s talk about a few ways to bring play back — not the forced, “scheduled fun” kind, but the kind that sneaks up on you and reminds you you’re still curious…and by definition – creative.
First, I’d say Daydream with Intention
We’ve gotten so good at staying productive that we’ve forgotten how to drift.
I’m not talking about scrolling — that’s consumption. I’m talking about letting your mind wander on purpose.
Try this: when you sit down with your morning coffee, resist the urge to fill the silence. No music, no phone, no scroll, no agenda.
Just… stare out the window.
Watch what your brain does with the space. It might wander to a half-finished idea, a new color combination, or something completely ridiculous — which is perfect. That’s your brain stretching its legs. It will not be quiet. It will not go still. It will think of something.
We call it “creative rest” now, but honestly? It’s just giving yourself time to think again.
Now, fair warning — your brain might not like it at first.
It’s been trained to chase notifications, check lists, and “catch up” on something. So the first time you sit quietly, it’ll probably rebel.
You’ll start hearing that little voice:
“Did you forget something? Shouldn’t you be doing something?” “You’re getting behind.” “You’ve got so much to do.”
That’s not failure — that’s conditioning.
Your brain is used to being bombarded with content and reacting to it.
But when you stop reacting, you start creating space for original thought again.
It may take a few tries, but once your mind learns it’s safe to relax — that nothing urgent is being ignored — (that’s why I called it “intentional” daydreaming) that’s when the ideas start to bubble up.
It’s like finally turning down the background noise so you can hear yourself think.
Second, try Reframing a Routine
Creativity doesn’t always need a blank canvas. Sometimes it hides inside the boring stuff.
Pick one small thing you do every day — making lunch, choosing what to wear, even straightening you desk — and approach it differently just for the fun of it.
Ask, “What would make this a little more me?”
Maybe it’s plating your sandwich like it’s going on a magazine cover. Maybe it’s pulling a wild pair of earrings out of the drawer on a Tuesday. Maybe it’s reorganizing your tools by color instead of category.
The goal isn’t improvement — it’s curiosity. To notice beauty where you usually rush past it.
Now, I’ll be honest, like my first suggestion — this one can feel forced at first.
When you’re tired, busy, or just trying to get through the day, stopping to “find the beauty” in a sandwich is gonna feel like a stretch…or even worse – a complete waste of time!
My normal MO is grab a paper towel and eat it in the car…
But that’s the point — it’s practice.
You’re not trying to make magic out of your to-do list; you’re simply training your brain to notice again.
And over time, that noticing spills into your creative work, where it really starts to matter.
My last one is Rekindle an Old Joy
There’s probably something you loved doing as a kid that you quietly retired in the name of adulthood.
This one surprises a lot of people — because it can feel weirdly vulnerable.
Going back to something you loved as a kid might bring up that same old voice that says, “That’s silly,” or “You don’t have time for that anymore.”
But that’s exactly why it works.
Because when you give yourself permission to enjoy something just because it lights you up — not because it’s useful, not because it’s content-worthy — you remind your creative brain that joy still counts.
So think back — what was it?
Building, collecting, doodling, dressing up?
You don’t have to copy it exactly. But you can reinterpret it.
If you loved coloring, maybe now you build color palettes for your next project.
If you loved dress-up, maybe now it’s styling your art photos or curating your workspace like a mood board.
The form changes, but the joy doesn’t.
And here’s the secret — play isn’t a break from creativity. It’s the very foundation of it.
The more you give yourself permission to play, the faster all the other parts — the discipline, the focus, the skill — fall naturally back into place.
Play clears the clutter. It gets you out of your head long enough to see what’s really been there all along. Awareness sneaks back in. When you stop trying so hard to be creative, you finally start to notice your own creativity
That’s really what all of this comes down to — noticing.
Creativity isn’t something we chase. It’s something we notice.
It’s in the way your brain makes little leaps when you’re not even trying.
It’s in the split-second decisions you make every day that no one else even sees.
When was the last time you solved a problem in a way that made you smile — even a little?
That’s creativity.
It doesn’t have to be big, or public, or pretty.
Sometimes it’s fixing a seam that refuses to fit.
Sometimes it’s the dinner you pull together from what’s left in the fridge.
Sometimes it’s finding a new way to arrange the furniture that gives you 4 feet more of floor space.
The funny thing is, most of us don’t even notice we’re doing it.
We’re so used to equating creativity with artistry that we miss the small flashes of imagination that shape our days.
But if you start paying attention, you’ll see it everywhere — especially in your hands.
Every time you fold a fabric differently, test a new tool, mix patterns you haven’t used before, or even just rearrange your workspace to feel better — you’re practicing creativity.
Not performing it. Practicing it.
And that practice builds a kind of quiet awareness — a moment-to-moment recognition that creativity isn’t a separate thing you do. It’s how you move through the world.
That’s what creative awareness really is.
It’s realizing that the same instinct that helps you design, paint, sew, or write also helps you navigate everything else — from relationships to problem-solving to self-expression.
When you see it that way, creativity stops being a hobby you have to “make time for.”
It becomes something you carry — a lens that colors how you see, think, and connect.
And once you see that, you can’t unsee it.
So maybe it’s time to pull that imagination out of the drawer again.
Because the truth is, you never stopped being creative — you just got really good at being practical.
Somewhere between learning to color inside the lines and managing adult life, that part of you simply got quieter.
But quiet doesn’t mean gone.
It just means waiting.
You don’t have to reinvent yourself, start over, or book a one-way ticket to Paris to find your creativity again.
You just have to give it a little room to breathe.
It’s been there the whole time — in the way you solve problems, arrange your space, find beauty in small things, or come up with one more clever workaround when nothing else seems to work.
That’s creativity too — and it’s been right there all along.
So maybe this week isn’t about finding your creativity.
Maybe it’s about recognizing it — that tiny spark that’s been working quietly in the background, shaping who you’ve become.
And when you start to notice it again — when you give it a little space and a little permission — it’s amazing how quickly it rises to meet you.
Because you never stopped being creative.
You just finally remembered.
It’s been sitting there patiently all this time, waiting for you to turn around and say,
“Oh hey — there you are. Welcome back.”
