I’ll admit it: The first thing I do when I’m creatively stuck is clean my kitchen. Counterintuitive, maybe. But there’s something about wiping down surfaces and lining up my jars of loose-leaf tea (a collection rivaling a small apothecary) that clears the mental cobwebs. My creativity rituals are an odd mix of movement, nostalgia, and the kind of snack breaks that would make a nutritionist side-eye me. But over time, I’ve discovered these little habits aren’t just quirks—they’re anchors that guide me back to the flow.

Here’s a look at the routines that keep my ideas brewing as steadily as a perfectly steeped Earl Grey.

The Power of Place: Find Your “Main Character Energy” Locale

Creativity doesn’t just thrive in chaos or calm—it needs the right kind of chaos or calm. For me, it’s my favorite corner booth at a beachside café, or my desk by the window where I can people-watch the joggers and dog walkers of Kitsilano. I think it stems from growing up in my family’s café, where neon menus blinked softly and the espresso machine provided a constant hum in the background. That blend of activity and ambient noise has become, for lack of a better term, my muse.

If you’re looking to carve out your own creative space:
- Experiment with Ambience: Like a rom-com montage of first dates, try different places—a park bench, your bedroom, a random library nook—until you figure out what energizes you.
- Fight for Your Bubble: Whether it’s noise-canceling headphones or an “I’m working, don’t text me memes right now” vibe, protect your zone unapologetically.
- Sprinkle a Touch of Magic: Keep a talisman of sorts nearby. Mine? A wooden squirrel figurine I thrifted in Melbourne. It doesn’t do anything, but it reminds me to never take life too seriously.

Schedule Your Procrastination (Seriously)

Every once in a while, someone will tell me something wild, like they get up at 5 a.m. every day to write for three uninterrupted hours. That’s lovely, but I could never—I’m best when I lean into my creative ebbs and, let’s face it, my procrastination flows. The trick isn’t trying to banish procrastination; it’s giving it boundaries.

Here’s how I’ve made peace with it: - The “15-Minute Rule”: I tell myself I’ll work for just 15 minutes. More often than not, I blink, and an hour’s gone by. It’s the creative version of “just one more episode” on Netflix.
- Scheduled Nonsense: Some procrastination needs a purpose. I let myself doodle on scrap paper, re-watch the same three clips of “Parks and Recreation,” or clean anything (everything?). Fun fact—it was during one of these cleaning binges that the inspiration for one of my short stories took shape. It involved laundry, a forgotten sock, and an imagined meet-cute that somehow felt more believable than most dating shows.
- Guilt-Free Breaks: Pencil in your procrastination time. Yes, literally. Make it a work break where you fully embrace the chaos. You’ll guilt yourself less and accomplish more later. Win-win.

Nature is the Ultimate Brain Recharge

Sometimes, the best way to create is to (temporarily) escape. Vancouverites have this running joke that hiking is our unofficial sport, and while I’m not out scaling Grouse every weekend, there’s truth in it: getting outdoors has an uncanny way of unclogging the mental drain.

For me, it’s never been about grand, sweeping vistas. Sure, I’ve surfed in Tofino and grudgingly agreed to camping trips, but what truly grounds me is far smaller—like the sound of rain on my windowsill or the tactile feel of cool sand under my feet during a walk on Jericho Beach.

Take it from a lifelong Pacific Northwestern introvert:
- Go Micro, Not Macro: You don’t need a grand nature immersion to find inspiration. Sometimes, just lying under a tree with a notebook is enough. Nature’s full of free creativity hacks—birds chirping, sunlight filtering through leaves, the occasional squirrel doing something weirdly acrobatic.
- Pair Movement with Thought: Walking kickstarts my mind like nothing else. Plus, if I’m on a brainstorming stroll and accidentally trip over uneven pavement, it’s a humbling reminder not to take myself too seriously.
- Befriend the Elements: Rain? Amazing—bonus points if you’re indoors with cocoa. Fog? Mysterious, dreamy. Winter? A little bleak, sure, but it sharpens the senses. There’s no bad weather if you have good socks.

Snack Like It’s an Art Form

I’m not exaggerating when I say my brain and my stomach are in constant negotiation about when it’s time to create and when it’s time to eat. Creativity doesn’t flow well when you’re hangry—a fact I’ve learned the hard way.

My snacks are a curious catalog of childhood comforts and chaotic preferences:
- The Nostalgic Heavy-Hitters: Pineapple buns from a nearby bakery remind me of my upbringing in our family’s café. They’re buttery, sugary perfection and consistent fuel for deep reflection.
- The Crunch Therapy: A bag of sea salt chips has been my editing companion for as long as I can remember. Something about that loud CRUNCH breaks up the monotony of staring at words on a page.
- The Hydration Station: Creativity, but make it hydrated. I keep a rotation: jasmine tea for when I’m moody, green tea for when I need a boost, or water when I’ve had far too much caffeine and my hands are vibrating like I just consumed pure energy.

Ritualize the Random

There’s one ritual I almost hesitate to share because it’s so random, but it works: alongside actual letter-writing (yes, with pen and paper, I know), I write imaginary letters to my creative blocks. Sounds woo-woo, but stay with me. I’ll ask, “Dear Writer’s Block, what’s your deal today?” And half the time the “response” is something along the lines of, “You’re stressing too much about perfection.”

Sure, it’s silly, but breaking down those walls often requires being a little weird:
- Dialogue with Your Muse: Whether it’s doodling, sticky notes, or an imaginary Q&A like mine, find a tool that lets you externalize your creative hurdles.
- Celebrate ‘Bad’ Days: A bad creative day isn’t the end—it’s part of the mess, the process, the charm. Treat it like a bad date: laugh about it, learn, and move on.
- Make Rest Sacred: My ritual before calling it a day? Lavender-scented candles, no screens, and music that reminds me of happy summer evenings—the kind where time softens and ideas feel within reach.

Trust Your Weird, Wonderful Process

Look, there’s no “right” way to spark creativity—it’s as personal as romantic chemistry and twice as unpredictable. The trick is molding your quirks into habits that work for you. Some days, my rituals align perfectly, like a killer playlist syncing up with every step on a jog. Other days, I’m three hours deep into cat videos wondering why my mind won’t cooperate. And that’s okay. Life—and creativity—isn’t linear; it zigzags, spins, pauses, and picks up again.

So, whether you’re the type to journal furiously in the morning or need a full-on kitchen cleaning session to feel human again, lean into the methods that feel right. Celebrate the trial and error, embrace the whimsy, and trust that your process—messy as it is—will guide you toward your next big idea.

Because like love, creativity doesn’t usually come perfectly packaged or predictable. But that’s what makes it magical.