Between Shabbat and Screenplays: Finding My Flow

Let me set the scene for you: It’s 7:05 p.m. on a Friday night in Beverly Hills. The smell of freshly baked challah wafts through the air. My family is gathered around a candlelit table, debating whether Spielberg’s new biopic gets the tone right—spoiler alert: My mom says no, my dad says yes; both will cite at least three anecdotes from personal meetings with him before the meal is over. This is where I learned two essential truths about creativity: one, it flourishes in routine, and two, it survives chaos. My rituals for fueling creativity may not involve a Spielberg-esque film crew, but they’ve certainly kept my writing—and, admittedly, my sanity—on track.

So, whether you’re penning your first novel, baking the perfect sourdough loaf, or just brainstorming captions for Instagram, here’s how I cultivate my creative spark. (Spoiler, it’s not entirely gluten-free. Sorry, Goop.)

Step One: A Morning Ritual Rewritten Daily

Creativity for me starts as soon as I wake up—or, let me rephrase, as soon as I can pry myself out of bed and away from Instagram reels about goldendoodle puppies. Mornings are sacred but rarely predictable.

Some mornings I journal, channeling the kind of stream-of-consciousness that would make James Joyce proud. In others, I blast Ella Fitzgerald while taking the world’s slowest shower. And some mornings? I watch ten minutes of a Real Housewives rerun, because nothing motivates me to be productive more than watching Lisa Vanderpump eye-roll her way through an awkward luncheon.

The trick, I’ve learned, is not sticking to one rigid plan. Creativity needs room—and let’s be honest, rules are boring. Instead, find two or three grounding activities that feel so natural they don’t force you to think too much.

Practical Takeaway: If you’re not a morning person, it doesn’t matter; what matters is easing into the day in a way that feels personal and deceptively self-indulgent. Whether it’s meditation, music, or splurging on your favorite latte, the focus shouldn’t be productivity—it should be pleasure.

Step Two: Carve Out a Soundtrack for Your Day

Growing up in a home where Barry Manilow met Danny Elfman (metaphorically, but wouldn’t that be a party?), music became key to my creative flow. My current obsessions range from Max Richter’s instrumental scores (nothing gets the dramatic side of me writing dialogue faster) to guilty-pleasure pop anthems à la Taylor Swift or Lizzo. For me, every type of creative work gets its own playlist: screenwriting demands cinematic scores, personal essays pair with jazz, and cleaning my apartment? Dua Lipa on repeat.

Here’s the thing: The right music doesn’t just inspire creativity; it sets boundaries. If the playlist is over, my writing session is over—end credits literally and figuratively rolling. And sometimes I spend longer perfecting my playlist than actually working. That’s allowed, by the way.

Practical Takeaway: Build a playlist for every mood you want to create. If music isn’t your thing, find an auditory anchor—white noise, a favorite podcast, the calming sound of your dishwasher—whatever avoids the soul-sucking black hole that is silence.

Step Three: A Walk Through the Familiar and Unexpected

I probably romanticize walks more than I should—a trait I blame on Nora Ephron—but I swear they’re crucial. For me, there’s nothing more creatively clarifying than walking through my old neighborhood. Whether it’s past my childhood school (hello, trauma) or my favorite smoothie place (yes, I still need antioxidants), these routes remind me of stories that shaped who I am.

On the flip side, creativity loves disruption. Some of my best ideas have come from detouring into streets I’ve never explored—smelling someone else’s flowers, eavesdropping at a boutique café patio, or ruling out neighborhoods I’ll someday “definitely” buy property in. The randomness kickstarts ideas I didn’t know I had. Imagine yourself as Meg Ryan in You’ve Got Mail, wistfully navigating her way toward genius. Only with AirPods.

Practical Takeaway: Walk somewhere you’ve been a million times, then somewhere you’ve never been before. Think of it as your creative cardio.

Step Four: Eavesdropping as a Sport

Confession: I don’t believe in writing “blocks.” I believe in story-starved ears. By this, I mean, go listen to real people—like, outside your head. Spend a lunch on a crowded café patio. Go to the farmers’ market and hover (politely!) by the samples table. It’s amazing how a stranger saying, “That kale’s not organic!” can somehow spark a monologue for your novel’s protagonist or unlock the perfect caption for your latest thirst trap.

Growing up in the Hollywood bubble, I spent plenty of time at formal events, learning how to sit politely while someone whispered three seats down about who divorced who and why. Turns out, eavesdropping is an art form and a socially acceptable one if done with finesse. The bonus material I’ve overheard? Priceless.

Practical Takeaway: Listen to the world around you. People are messy, funny, and unexpectedly poetic. Pay attention to them without being creepy (seriously, don’t be creepy).

Step Five: Celebrate Before You "Finish"

Because most of my creative work involves writing, I know the pressure to finish something before rewarding yourself. But the key to sustaining creative energy for me has been celebrating small victories. Whether it’s editing a single scene or conceptualizing a title, I’ve made it ritualistic to pause. I’ll break for a post-Shabbat slice of babka (Aunt Naomi’s recipe, by the way, is undefeated) or a well-deserved hour-long scroll through TikTok videos. No guilt allowed.

I carried this tradition from my family: Shabbat dinners always ended with dessert whether our debates were resolved or not. The dessert mattered more than the conclusion and, weirdly, I try to apply that to my creative practice.

Practical Takeaway: Reward yourself for each milestone, no matter how tiny. Small wins build momentum and teach your brain that creativity isn’t a punishment.

The Big Picture: Rituals are Guideposts, Not Rules

Here’s the secret I’ll leave you with: Creativity thrives on versatility, not rigidity. You can have rituals, yes—I rely on mine daily—but creativity needs space to breathe, evolve, and laugh at itself. My best writing ideas don’t always come during my Shabbat-style moments of reflection but rather during botched popcorn experiments or Trader Joe’s runs when I’m debating yet another seasonal pumpkin snack.

Stop thinking of rituals as “have-tos” and treat them like invitations instead. And if all else fails, channel Lisa Vanderpump energy and tackle your creative blocks with a Swarovski-studded wave of your metaphorical hand.

Go forth, be playful, and give yourself permission to create—whatever it looks like today.