Finding Your Spark: My Creative Rituals to Fuel the Magic
It’s midnight, and I’m sitting cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by an explosion of sticky notes covered in half-formed ideas, smudges of ink on my hands. Somewhere in the background, R. Carlos Nakai’s haunting flute melodies blend with my dog’s soft snores. I promise it’s not as chaotic as it sounds — this is where the best stuff happens. Creativity, like dating or maintaining a relationship, has its rituals: the little rhythms and quirks that help us pull magic from what could otherwise feel like thin air.
If you’re feeling stuck, whether in love, art, or life, lean into rituals — a little structure can spark big breakthroughs. Here are the simple, but sacred, rituals that fuel my creativity and keep my ideas flowing. Bonus: they might just help you handle the complexity of human connections, too.
1. Start the Day With Stillness (But Make It Sacred)
Most creatives will tell you mornings are prime time for inspiration — the hours when your mind is uncluttered and your worries haven’t yet started shouting (or texting, let’s be honest). For me, mornings begin with the kind of stillness that forces me to slow down.
I light a small bundle of sage or cedar, a practice I learned growing up in northeastern Arizona, and offer gratitude to the day before it even starts. It’s not fancy or Instagrammable — sometimes I’m just in my pajamas with oatmeal bubbling on the stove. But the act grounds me. It reminds me that I’m not creating in a vacuum; the work I do is tied to something much larger than myself — as much an extension of my ancestors as it is a personal pursuit. That reminder melts away the pressure to be “perfect” and replaces it with something lighter: intention.
This kind of “reset ritual” isn’t limited to creativity. Trying to navigate your feelings about a new date? Start with gratitude, even if it’s just for good hair days or the courage to put yourself out there. Need fresh ideas? Take a few deep breaths and remind yourself: you’re allowed to be messy — life’s magic often happens in the mess.
2. Take Breaks Like You’re Negotiating a Treaty
Whenever my brain starts to feel like a brick wall (mood: error 404, thoughts not found), I make a pact with myself to step away. Forced creativity is like trying to flirt while hangry — no one’s winning in that situation.
In these moments, I trust my second “office”: the desert sky. Living in the Southwest means I have access to rivers that stretch lazily between sandstone cliffs and trails where wildflowers bloom defiantly in harsh conditions. On especially rough writing days, I’ll take my stubbornness (and my dog, Yiska) on a hike — preferably somewhere with wind low enough to hear my thoughts but high enough to remind me I’m alive.
Nature doesn’t rush, and honestly, why should we? Letting yourself breathe — whether it's through hiking, journaling, or simply stepping outside for five minutes — is sometimes all it takes to return to your ideas (or relationships) with the clarity they deserve. Don’t be afraid to pause your hustle. Call it self-care or creative foreplay — time away is an unfairly underrated part of the process.
3. Build A Dreamy Playlist (For Every Mood)
Every idea I’ve ever had owes at least 12% of its awesomeness to music. Songs are time capsules, tapping into feelings you didn’t know you could still access from two summers ago (shoutout to the nostalgic heartbreak of Lorde’s “Ribs”) or clarifying emotions in real time.
My creative playlists run the gamut from Florence + The Machine’s witchy crescendos to The Weeknd’s saucier beats to homemade powwow jams from last summer’s rodeo. Recently, I’ve been obsessed with the cinematic drama of Buffy Sainte-Marie’s “Starwalker” — it’s perfect for big brainstorming sessions when I want to feel invincible.
Building playlists for specific emotions taps into the deep wells of your subconscious. When I’m stuck on a tricky relationship question — like debating if I should text back a slow responder (WHY is this still a thing?) — I’ll lean into melodies to make sense of those feelings. Want to set the perfect atmosphere for journaling or even prepping for a date? Create your own “pre-game” soundtrack. It works for confidence AND creativity.
4. Let the Mundane Become Magical
Here’s a secret: the most creative moments often come disguised as mundane tasks. For years, I thought inspiration meant chasing “big ideas,” like mountain summits demanding grand epiphanies. Spoiler: the daily stuff — sweeping the floor, folding my great-aunt’s quilt back into place, chopping onions for dinner like life depends on perfect dice — is where my best ideas begin.
The idea for one of my most personal essays began while I was scrubbing a particularly stubborn skillet. Something about the circular rhythm of the steel-wool pad gave my thoughts space to roam. My grandmother used to say, “You can’t force a seed to grow faster by shouting at it,” which applies to both cleaning and creativity.
If you’re feeling stuck, lean into the "soft muse" of everyday tasks. Clean your kitchen. Organize your bookshelf by genre instead of mood. Bake cookies...or char them slightly (we’ve all been there) and laugh it off. Inspiration sneaks into the quietest, most unsuspecting moments. Relationships thrive here, too — in the after-dinner dishes, the shared silence of folding laundry, the small, mundane acts that remind us we’re building something genuine.
5. Finish With My Favourite: Write (or Speak) What Scares You
As someone who loves storytelling, I’ve learned that the most important stories are often the hardest to put into words. I’ll go full vulnerability here — diving into crushing self-doubt about my abilities or unpacking jagged edges of past relationships — because that’s where creativity really breaks open.
One of my rituals? I write the thing I am most avoiding writing. Sometimes it’s a line I’ve danced around for days, afraid it’ll cut too deep; other times, it’s admitting to my not-so-proud moments in love (like the time I used emojis to avoid ACTUALLY talking). Writing through discomfort isn’t just healing; it’s transformative. Creativity requires honesty. So does connection.
And no, you don’t have to be an essayist for this one to work. Speak your truth into the mirror, or scrawl it in a notebook that no one else will ever read. Vulnerability has this magical way of unfreezing what feels stuck inside you. Whether you’re working on a poem, a painting, or a partnership, clarity often follows courage.
Wrap-Up: Give Yourself Permission to Play
If there’s one takeaway from my creative rituals, it’s this: let yourself play. Creativity, like love, thrives when we stay curious and don’t take ourselves too seriously. Some days you’ll be a lyrical genius cradling a steaming cup of coffee at sunrise. Other days you’re just a human whose dog ate her outline and whose hair dryer is her editorial mascot (yep, me last week).
Rituals give us cozy corners to channel our best selves, whether we’re creating art or figuring out why that dream date from Saturday hasn’t texted back by Tuesday. Grant yourself grace. Explore what sparks your joy, feeds your ideas, and builds trust in your process.
Because here’s the truth: Your creativity — and your capacity for connection — isn’t some distant, unknowable force. It’s already in you.