I like to say that creativity is a lot like falling in love—the spark is spontaneous, but keeping it alive? That takes effort. When people ask me what inspires my writing, I usually joke that it’s equal parts coffee, childhood trauma, and Bob Marley. But truthfully, staying creative is about rituals. And no, I’m not talking about burning sage at sunrise or chanting in tongues at my laptop (although, hey, whatever works). For me, it’s about blending the practical with the spiritual—crafting habits that nourish my mind and soul while keeping me grounded.

Let me take you through my most cherished creative rituals. Whether you’re a writer, an artist, or someone figuring out where passion fits between Monday meetings and meal prep, I hope these inspire you to build rituals of your own.

Morning Clarity: Coffee, Curry Powder, and Early Hustle

Every morning, I make what I call my "creative elixir," aka coffee with a pinch of curry powder. Before you roll your eyes, let me explain. Growing up in my house, curry found its way into almost everything. My mom used to joke, "If Marcus won’t eat it, just curry it." Adding just a dash to my coffee is like a direct line back to my roots—and, surprisingly, it works! The peppery warmth wakes my brain up faster than your ex sliding into your DMs at 2 a.m.

Once that mug is in my hand, I turn off all my excuses and dive in. Mornings are my sacred hours. I’ve learned that if I don’t write during that window, my motivation by 2 p.m. is about as reliable as those “let’s catch up soon” texts that never materialize. My advice? Find your peak hours and treat them like a date with your craft—one you wouldn’t dare flake on.

Action Step: Start your day by incorporating a small sensory ritual (a unique drink, a favorite playlist) and carving out focused time for whatever fuels your creativity.

Walk It Out: When Creativity Goes Stale

There’s a place down the block from my apartment in D.C. where the rhythms of go-go music mix with the scent of fried fish and exhaust fumes. It’s chaotic and alive, and I’ll walk there to clear my head. I call these my “idea walks.” Sometimes, the simple act of moving my body uncorks a stuck idea—or reminds me that not every problem needs solving on page one.

When I lived in Boston, I’d walk the Charles River, replaying Kendrick Lamar or Ky-Mani Marley songs until I found a rhythm in my thoughts. Walking makes your brain work differently—less like a treadmill and more like a tightrope. Some of my best plot twists or essay pitches have come when I wasn’t even trying to think about writing.

Action Step: Build a movement ritual into your process. Walk before a big project, stretch between tasks, or take your brainstorming outside. Fresh air isn’t just a metaphor—it’s medicine.

The “Three-Win” Rule: Journaling with Gratitude

You know that scene in every rom-com where the protagonist gets in their own way? That’s what the creative process feels like for me—daily. To keep from spiraling, I use my journal to track what I call “three wins.” At the end of each day, I write three things that went well. They don’t have to be groundbreaking; sometimes, it’s just, “Met my deadline” or “Didn’t burn the oxtail this time.”

This practice helps me reframe setbacks (like scrapping a page that didn’t work) as part of the win. Creativity thrives when you’re not hating every single misstep. It’s like dating—you won’t get anywhere if you expect perfection or don’t notice the small, good gestures along the way.

Action Step: End your day with a gratitude journal. Track your “wins,” no matter how small, to keep your spirits lifted in your creative endeavors.

Playlist Therapy: Scoring the Mood

Nothing sets the scene like music. In love, it’s what makes the cheesy candlelit dinner tolerable. In creativity, it’s what pulls me out of my head and into the moment. If I’m working on fiction, you can bet I’ve got an instrumental playlist on repeat—think Hans Zimmer meets Fela Kuti. But when I’m journaling or reflecting, I go straight to old reggae. There’s something in Marley’s words—“Emancipate yourself from mental slavery”—that reminds me to chill out and just write.

Music also teaches me tempo. Some days, creativity flows slow and steady, like classic lovers’ rock. Other days, deadlines demand I crank up the BPM like I’m at a go-go concert. Either way, the right playlist keeps me emotionally tethered, so I don’t spiral into overthinking.

Action Step: Curate multiple playlists that match different creative moods. Use them to guide your energy and focus while you work.

The Friday Reset: Cleaning with Intention

Here’s another lesson from my Jamaican upbringing: clean like your ancestors are watching. Every Friday evening, I deep-clean my space. It’s not just about vacuuming up crumbs or reorganizing my desk; it’s also a mental reset. There’s nothing like shaking off the week’s stress with some reggae tunes (and maybe a touch of dancehall) blasting in the background.

Clearing my space sends a signal to my brain: You’re making room for new ideas. Maybe it’s the leftover scent of Pine-Sol talking to me, but this ritual always leaves me feeling lighter, freer—ready to create again.

Action Step: Schedule a weekly reset, whether it’s cleaning, decluttering, or prepping your workspace. A clear space leads to a clear mind.

Call It Quits: Know When to Stop

I’ll say this loudly for the people in the back (and myself on bad days): overworking doesn’t make you more creative—it makes you tired. I’ve learned to close my laptop on days when the words won’t come. If you wouldn’t cling to a dying relationship just because you “put in the time,” don’t cling to a dying work session either.

Instead, I’ll call a friend, listen to a podcast about something completely unrelated, or cook something elaborate just for fun. (Jamaican brown stew chicken, anyone?) Absence makes the heart—and the creative brain—grow fonder. Resting isn’t just slacking; it’s recharging.

Action Step: Set an end time for your creative work each day. Step away when productivity wanes, trusting that the break will actually sharpen your focus later.

Final Takeaway: Your Rituals, Your Rules

Creativity isn’t some mystical force reserved for geniuses in berets sipping absinthe (does anyone actually drink that?). It’s a muscle—something you strengthen with consistency, care, and the occasional curry-flavored caffeine boost. My rituals won’t work for everyone, but that’s the beauty of it. Your process should reflect you.

At the end of the day, creativity is less about what you produce and more about how you commune with yourself. So, whether you’re writing, painting, coding, or figuring out which text to send your crush, start building your rituals. They might just unlock the love story between you and your craft.

Remember, if Bob Marley could create "One Love" in a house full of people, you can find your spark too. You’ve got this. Go make art—and make it yours.