When I was an associate director, I received a request from a school district that wanted a presentation for their junior and senior classes about the college search process. They were looking for advice on how to approach it, what questions to ask, what to consider, and how to make decisions.
Taking on this assignment excited me because I had created a similar presentation a few years earlier. Updating existing content would be simple. There was one problem. When I went back to find my presentation and notes, everything was gone. I had to start from scratch with nothing but vague memories of what I'd presented before. Unfortunately this was familiar territory. My disorganization created a clear path back to the beginning with just about every project I took on. Starting over eventually turned into my default mode despite its obvious inefficiencies. That experience taught me something crucial: sustainable creativity isn't about inspiration—it's about building systems that prevent you from losing your work and having to restart every time. In this article, I'll walk you through the specific changes I made that allowed me to spend less time at square one and develop daily creative habits that help me solve problems efficiently. These systems have saved me hundreds of hours and transformed how I approach creative work. The Problem with Creative Mythology Growing up, I heard "an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure" constantly. Because my dad worked in medicine, I always framed this concept around physical health. When I wanted to be creative, I dismissed sustainable practices because I had bought into the mythology of the struggling artist. Art and creativity required suffering and hard work. I had experience spending hours wrestling with creative endeavors before they resembled anything close to my vision. The longer I work and the more problems I solve, the more I believe in this principle: "Think like an artist, work like an accountant." The more efficiencies we create around our work, the more creative we get to be. My Failed System: Notebooks Without Reference In high school, I learned to write ideas in notebooks. Over the years, I filled hundreds of them. What I never mastered was referencing the information in those notebooks and turning it into usable creative output. My notebooks became like academic learning without practical application, especially when information was collected over longer periods. I had learned to be creative in a linear, time-constrained way. Producing theater, for example, provides a clear timeframe with defined beginning and end points, when rehearsal starts and when the show opens. This creative process fit neatly onto a calendar. But most meaningful creative work develops over longer periods. Cal Newport discusses this in Slow Productivity, citing many great works as being built over years or decades, busting the myth of quick inspiration-induced creative bursts that produce masterpieces. While I excelled at collecting information, I struggled to recall it or maintain momentum unless I could focus completely on the project. The Game-Changer: Building a Second Brain This began to change when I developed a second brain, a digital system that became my central, searchable repository for everything. This single change opened up possibilities that allowed me to tap into creative processes when needed, picking up projects where I left off without being tied to physical spaces or objects. Building a system is key for inviting spontaneous creativity. The foundation makes easy reference possible and allows you to return to where you left off. While your system will never be perfect and will need consistent updating, it can handle much of the organizational labor. Without a digital system, having learned creative processes through physical means, I struggled to organize myself in ways that made consistent creative progress possible. A notebook follows linear structure, but project completion requires non-linear actions. I needed to manage various creative project aspects non-linearly, allowing me to pick up where I left off regardless of time elapsed. Writing things down only works if you can find what you wrote. When I couldn't remember where I'd written something, the note became useless. The second brain framework allowed me to create a digital filing system where anything and everything can be added, categorized, and searched, enabling me to move forward and stay organized when it's time to utilize information and act on original ideas. I discovered this concept in What is Scenography? by Pamela Howard. She tells a story about traveling to Israel and encountering Hebrew characters. She liked their shape so much that she spent time filling sketchbook pages with them. Years later, she used them in her stage design work. This story illustrated the power of systematic collection and reference, capturing ideas when they appear and having systems to rediscover them when they become relevant. The Four Elements of Sustainable Creative Problem-Solving After studying various creative processes and testing approaches over three years of implementation across 50+ projects, I identified four critical elements that must have dedicated space in any sustainable creative practice: 1. Research This was never my problem, I can research endlessly. The challenge was integrating research with the other three elements and turning research into action. My System: I built my digital system using Apple Notes with three folders: 'Capture' for quick ideas, 'Projects' for active work, and 'Archive' for completed items. Each note starts with a date and project tag like [PRESENTATION-2024] for easy searching. Key Insight: Research means identifying what you know and don't know, not collecting information indefinitely. 2. Saturation This is action-oriented and feels passive, but it's anything but. Saturation means I spend 2-3 focused hours wrestling with the problem using specific techniques: mind mapping all possible solutions, sketching rough concepts, and writing stream-of-consciousness about obstacles until I literally can't think of another approach. When you can't find another way to examine the problem, when you become so intimate with it that you begin dreaming about it. That's when most people give up. But this is exactly when the breakthrough becomes possible, leading to the next step. 3. Incubation This is where you stop actively trying to solve the problem because you've exhausted everything you could generate consciously. Letting go, you engage in something else. Ideally something that feels mindless like walking, working out, showering, data entry, or drawing. I keep my body engaged while giving my mind space to work subconsciously. This space allows my mind to solve the problem for me, creating conditions for breakthrough insights. 4. Brainstorming Perhaps the most fun, but most people confuse brainstorming with saturation. Real brainstorming only happens after incubation, when you've exhausted everything without finding a solution. This brainstorming often occurs in conjunction with incubation, where you're mulling over solutions and pulling from not just current project research but from your entire archive of collections and experiences. You're laying out all pieces to find something that works, this is where the magic happens. Implementation: From Theory to Daily Practice Start with Action, Not Research The most pivotal insight I learned came from Dan Koe's approach to projects. Rather than starting with research, he starts with what he knows and begins building immediately. Only when he encounters something he can't complete does he turn to research. This approach grounds you in reality and provides clear direction for both the project and your learning. You don't get stuck in one phase and can't figure out how to escape. Six months after implementing this system, I faced another presentation request. This time, I found my research notes from the original project in under 2 minutes, had a rough outline within 15 minutes, and completed the presentation in half the time. Choosing Your Deep Work Philosophy Cal Newport describes four philosophies for deep work that provide frameworks for implementation: Monastic Philosophy: Eliminate or radically reduce shallow obligations to focus entirely on deep work on a single, high-value goal. Bimodal Philosophy: Divide time into clearly defined periods, some dedicated entirely to deep work, others open for everything else. Rhythmic Philosophy: Schedule deep work sessions as regular habits, typically daily, for set periods. Journalistic Philosophy: Fit deep work into your schedule wherever possible, often in short bursts as opportunities arise. I initially hoped to be bimodal, but my schedule as director of admissions proved too erratic. Between software issues, staff concerns, student walk-ins, and family needs, I developed a combination of rhythmic and journalistic approaches. I schedule dedicated time when possible while remaining ready to dive into projects when opportunities present themselves. The key difference now is having better systems that make these sessions more effective. Practical Implementation Strategies Create Your Ideal Calendar I created an ideal calendar outlining what I'd love my day to look like. More than anything, this gives me something to strive for—a place to return to that reminds me of my priorities and helps me lead myself rather than get pulled into others' influences. This sets up the schedule for creative problem-solving practices and establishes frameworks for each element. Design Your Focus Space Knowing what you need to focus and creating necessary space to support it will transform your creativity, fueling your ability for research, saturation, and brainstorming. The pandemic made working with closed doors culturally acceptable, dramatically improving my attention and focus. Everything pulls my attention, I needed to acknowledge this and create boundaries. Actionable Step: Identify your biggest attention drains and create physical or digital barriers. This might mean closing your door, using website blockers, or establishing "creation hours" when you're unavailable for meetings. Master the Art of "Putting It in a Box" My wife and I use a relationship technique where, during intense conversations that need to pause, we ask if we can "put it in a box" and revisit it later. This becomes necessary when we're at an impasse or when time constraints require us to move on. The same works for creative projects. When you hit a spot where you start spinning or face time commitments, setting current creative work aside leads into incubation and provides space for subconscious processing. Critical Warning: Don't use this before getting started. Initial resistance feels like you need to put it in a box, but this is self-doubt convincing you not to begin. Put work in a box only after you've wrestled with material, medium, or process and genuinely need incubation time. Leverage Incubation Activities After saturation and hitting a wall, incubation allows your subconscious to do heavy lifting. Classic examples include shower thoughts, walks without music or podcasts, long drives, and gym sessions, activities that keep your body busy while letting your brain work subconsciously. I first experienced this deliberately as a young performer trying to memorize scripts quickly. Pacing helped my brain focus on remembering words. Separating mind and body allowed me to concentrate. Warning: I used to fall into processing mode before bed. While it felt productive, it ate into sleep, eventually catching up to my overall productivity. The System in Action: A Complete Example Here's exactly how this system worked when I had to recreate that presentation:
This approach saved me 4 hours compared to my usual method and created a reusable resource for future similar requests. Common Mistakes to Avoid Research Rabbit Holes: If you find yourself stuck in research mode for more than 2 hours, you're avoiding the harder work of creation. Set a timer and force yourself to start building with incomplete information. Premature Incubation: Don't confuse initial resistance with genuine need for incubation. Push through the discomfort of starting before allowing incubation space. System Complexity: Your system should reduce friction, not create it. If your organizational method takes longer than the creative work, simplify it. Perfectionist Collection: Don't let the pursuit of the perfect system prevent you from using an imperfect one. Start simple and evolve. Moving Forward: Your Next Steps The transformation from scattered creativity to sustainable systems doesn't happen overnight, but it can begin today. This Week:
This Month:
This Quarter:
Remember: sustainable creativity isn't about inspiration striking, it's about building systems that capture, develop, and execute ideas efficiently. When the next presentation request comes, you'll be ready to build on your past work instead of starting from square one. The choice is yours: continue losing your creative work and starting over, or invest in systems that compound your efforts over time. I know which path has transformed my creative practice, and I'm confident it can transform yours too.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |