“Sorry, I’m just not the creative type.”
The host of the backyard barbecue says it with a shrug when a friend asks for help naming the vegan food truck she’s about to launch. He delivers the line the way someone might mention a shellfish allergy, as if it’s a medical fact that’s been on file since childhood. Then he turns back to the grill, lifting the lid with a makeshift handle he MacGyvered out of a wooden spoon and some zip ties after the original snapped off an hour ago.
The irony is thicker than his barbecue sauce. It’s easy to buy into the myth that only a select few of us are creative. Yet the research clearly shows that inventive thinking and creative problem-solving are capabilities inherent to the human condition.
Most of us got sorted into one of two camps in grade school, when the kid who could draw a realistic horse got crowned “the creative one” and everyone else learned to believe that creativity would always remain outside their grasp. Part of the confusion comes from how we define the word. Many of us hear “creative” and picture a painter in a beret. But creativity is simply coming up with novel ideas, and those ideas don’t necessarily have anything to do with the “arts.” The operations manager who untangles a clogged process is doing creative work, and so is the parent who convinces a toddler that broccoli is a forest of tiny dinosaur trees.
Knowing we’re all capable, we now shift attention to access this innate ability. Fortunately, there are a few predictable paths that answer the age-old question, “Where does creativity come from?”
- Grounded presence.
When our minds are in the past or the future, we shut off access. Think of a radio that needs to be tuned to the right frequency in order to pick up a station. When you are fully present, you lock in a direct access point. To get there, I do a short ritual to find my center. I try to relax my shoulders, slow my breathing, and plant my feet. Simply put, the more present you are, the more you’ll be able to tap into your creative intuition.
- Risk permission.
The biggest blocker of creative expression isn’t natural talent, it’s fear. Fear stands at the door like an overzealous nightclub bouncer, turning ideas away before they ever get past the velvet rope. Loosen its grip by filling a page with rough ideas, including the worst one you can think of, and holding off on judging any of them until later. Fear and creativity cannot coexist.
- Borrowed ideas.
Profound inspiration often comes from other parts of life. One of my favorite examples comes from London’s Great Ormond Street Hospital for Children, where doctors borrowed ideas from Formula 1 pit crews to redesign how they hand patients from surgery to intensive care, cutting technical errors by 42%. Try tackling the problem in front of you with an idea from a completely unrelated field.
- Thought fusion.
When two distinct forces collide, they can create something entirely new. From Reese’s peanut butter cups to the La-Z-Boy chair, combining ideas can help you discover brand new ones. The next time you’re working a problem or opportunity, ask what items or ideas could be fused together to solve the challenge in a novel way.
- Ricochet ideation.
The power of individual creativity gets amplified when collaborating with others. In the same way jazz ensembles and comedy improv troupes are able to invent something that no one individual could have imagined, our own solutions get better with co-creators. This idea is the subject of my forthcoming book, Co-Flow. Bring someone an unfinished thought and invite them to add to it. Bounce the idea back and forth, and you might end up with something neither of you could have come up with alone.
- Fresh perspectives.
Releasing your normal perspective and biases, try looking at a problem through a different lens. How would Miles Davis solve the problem? Or Lisa Simpson? How would a neurologist view the situation? What about a graphic designer, a poet, or a six-year-old? Different views create different answers.
Now, imagine that the barbecue host from earlier trusted his inherent creativity. He lets go of the fear and tosses out the worst food truck name he can think of, and it gets a huge laugh. A few friends start riffing on it, someone twists it into something clever, and by the time the burgers come off the grill, the truck has a name. And the guy who swore he wasn’t the creative type helped make it happen.
PS. For fun, here are a few name contenders for that vegan food truck. Add other fun ones in the comments.
- License to Kale
- Turnip the Beat
- Silence of the Yams
- The Notorious V.E.G.
- Peas Out!