Think of creativity like a long-term relationship—it needs nurturing, spontaneity, and a little routine to keep the magic alive. Without rituals, my creative muse would ghost me faster than that one date who talks about their "crypto empire" on the first drink. Over the years, between writing high school lesson plans in Queens, penning novels that trace love stories across continents, and trying to make sense of Netflix’s ever-stranger algorithm for romantic comedies, I’ve figured out a few rituals that keep my inspiration well-fed and my imagination caffeinated.
Whether you're a writer, an artist, or someone just looking to spark a little more creativity in your life, these habits might speak to you. They’re part science, part self-care, and full-on reflections of the life I’ve lived—from Lagos to Brooklyn, Fela Kuti to lo-fi jazz playlists, first drafts that rival trainwrecks, and everything in between.
1. Morning Pages: The Creative Warm-Up You Didn’t Know You Needed
There’s something about the quiet early hours of the day—just me, a cup of coffee made way too strong (thank my dad for that), and a notebook. Before I check emails, texts, or doom-scroll Twitter, I handwrite three pages of whatever lands on my mind.
Did I have a vivid dream where my Nigerian grandmother lectured my third-grade teacher? Cool, let’s jot it down. Am I still salty that Netflix canceled The Get Down? Of course. Onto the page it goes. Sometimes it’s serious—an idea for a short story, details about my cultural identity, or memories of those little Lagos moments you don’t notice until you’ve immigrated: the cadence of the street hawkers calling, the aroma of suya in the air.
Why three pages? It’s the sweet spot between just-enough and overkill. Once that's done, I feel like my creative mind is warmed up and ready, even if what I’ve written is absolute nonsense. Think of it like stretching before the gym or practicing your smoothest pick-up line before heading to that meet-cute your friend promised would be “low pressure.”
Pro Tip: Don’t self-edit. Let every thought flow—even the embarrassing ones.
2. The Coffee Shop Cure: Romance Novels and Ambient Chaos
As much as I love my perfectly staged desk (thank you, Houseplants #1-6), sometimes inspiration doesn’t hit until I’ve dragged myself to a bustling coffee shop. There’s something about the clattering of cups, the muffled conversations about startup launches and bad dates, and the guy in the corner who is definitely rewriting his screenplay again.
Noise has a funny way of focusing my energy—it’s like attempting to flirt with someone you’re meeting for the first time while also dodging the bartender’s side-eye because you ordered water (we've all been there). It forces me to zero in on my thoughts amid the chaos.
My favorite coffee shop soundtracks creativity with a mix of Afrobeat and lo-fi jazz—inspired by the times my dad played Fela Kuti on Saturday mornings and my college years, where John Coltrane filled the air of a too-small apartment in Brooklyn. Those rhythms do something to my brain that even Spotify's AI-crafted playlist can't replicate.
Feel too distractible in public spaces? Curry your focus with headphones and your own playlist. But if you're like me, it’s the untamed hum of humanity that fuels you most.
Pro Tip: Order something you genuinely like, not what sounds impressive. Creativity flows better when you're sipping hot chocolate you love instead of choking on an artisanal oat latte you don’t.
3. The Long Walk (or the “Why Am I Doing This to Myself?” Stroll)
For writers, staring at a blank page can feel like being two hours deep into a bad first date: awkward, uncomfortable, and doomed. When my words refuse to come together, I lace up my sneakers and hit the pavement. Whether it's through the crunch of autumn leaves in upstate New York or the bustling streets of Brooklyn, walking gets the creative juices flowing.
One of my favorite routes traces a path near where I grew up in Brooklyn—past bodegas that still smell like bacon-egg-and-cheese sandwiches in the morning, aunties selling bracelets on the corner, and kids jumping rope like they’ve got infinite energy reserves. It reminds me I’m connected to something bigger than myself and my laptop screen.
Walking is nature’s brainstorming session. My characters start talking to each other again, new metaphors pop into my head, and I start to untangle knots in my story that felt impossible a mile ago. It’s like couple’s counseling for me and my creativity. By the time I’m back at my desk? Well, we’re on speaking terms again.
Pro Tip: Leave your phone behind when you can. Or at least use airplane mode. Inspiration doesn’t usually arrive while you’re refreshing Instagram.
4. Reading for Love (Not Just for Work)
You can always tell when someone hasn't read for pleasure in years—it’s like trying to date someone who’s forgotten how to romance themselves first. For me, reading isn’t just about staying up on contemporary fiction (though you better believe I’ve got opinions on current Booker Prize finalists). It’s about falling into the kind of story that grips you unapologetically, that makes the line between creators and audiences beautifully blurred.
One weekend, I might revisit Zadie Smith’s On Beauty, marveling at the vivid textures of her prose and sharp character observations. Another? It’s a rom-com I impulse-bought because the cover art had two people sharing an umbrella, and yes, I am that cliché.
Reading deliberately broadens my creative palate, especially when I find that one line that knocks me backward—a sentence so good, it’s like hearing your childhood crush call your name across the room.
Pro Tip: Try binge-reading books outside your comfort zone. Want to write sharper dialogue? Read plays or screenplays. Struggling to describe emotions? Devour poetry.
5. The “Dance Floor Breakthrough” Method
Imagine me mid-writer’s block dancing to Burna Boy in my living room. Yes, it happens. Frequently. Often in socks.
Dance has this beautiful way of embodying rhythm—something stories, and relationships alike, are built on. When I feel creatively stuck, movement jolts me awake. Music, whether it’s the drumbeat in Afrobeat or the improvisation of jazz, reminds me that creative flow isn’t linear. It's a process that shifts tempo unexpectedly, doubles back, and sometimes crescendos where you least expect.
You don’t have to be good at dancing (trust me, I’m not headlining Coachella anytime soon). Just find music that speaks to your soul and let your body do the rest. Stepping away from work like this reminds me why creativity feels so vital—it’s exhilarating, messy, and just like love, requires stepping into vulnerability without fear.
Pro Tip: Make a playlist of songs that instantly brighten your day. Keep it handy for those "I don’t know where to start" creative slumps.
Closing Thoughts: Embracing the Ritual, Not the Outcome
Creativity is like dating the unconventional-but-worth-it type. You’ll question it, roll your eyes at its antics, and sometimes wonder whether you’re even compatible, but when it shows up? It’s magic.
The rituals I’ve shared aren’t magic formulas—they’re gentle nudges to invite inspiration closer, to dismantle the pressure to create something “perfect.” Here’s the truth: Your best ideas will sneak up on you in the least expected places. Maybe it’s while scribbling your random musings at dawn. Maybe it’s at a coffee shop where the barista accidentally gives you someone else’s drink order and you realize, wow, a chai-lavender latte IS good.
So, lean into habits that feel personal, that remind you why you create in the first place. Like love, finding your creative rhythm takes patience and risk. And when you do? You’ll realize the rituals themselves might just be the most rewarding part of the journey.
