Hey there, friend.
Let’s be real for a second. It’s Saturday. The energy of the weekend has started. You might be sitting at your desk, staring at a blinking cursor, or maybe you’re scrolling through your phone on your commute, feeling a little... flat.
We’ve all been there. We tend to think of inspiration as this massive, lightning-bolt event. We wait for it to strike us like a movie scene—a sudden epiphany that changes everything. But what if I told you that waiting for lightning is the worst way to live a creative life?
The truth is, inspiration isn’t a visitor that knocks on your door. It’s a roommate that’s been sitting on the couch the whole time, waiting for you to look up from your phone.
Over the last few years, I’ve realized that when I feel "stuck," it’s usually because I’m looking for big magic, ignoring the small magic right in front of me. I used to think I needed a vacation to Bali to feel inspired. Now, I know I just need a fifteen-minute walk without my headphones.
If you’re feeling a bit grey today, or if the world feels heavy, I want to share seven unexpected, science-backed, and slightly unconventional ways to find inspiration in the everyday chaos. These aren’t just "tips"; they are shifts in perspective that have saved my creativity—and my sanity—more times than I can count.
Let’s dive in.
1. Go on a Hunt for "Glimmers" (Not Triggers)
You’ve probably heard of "triggers"—those moments that spark a sudden negative emotional response or anxiety. But have you heard of their opposite? They are called "Glimmers."
I recently fell down a rabbit hole reading about Polyvagal Theory, specifically the work of Deb Dana, a clinician who specializes in complex trauma. She describes glimmers as "micro-moments of regulation that foster feelings of well-being."
Basically, a glimmer is a tiny cue of safety.
When we are stressed or uninspired, our nervous system is usually in a state of protection. We are scanning for danger (triggers). When we are in that state, creativity cannot exist. Creativity requires safety.
So, instead of trying to "force" an idea, I started playing a game I call "Glimmer Hunting."
It works like this: For the next hour, your only job is to notice things that make you feel a tiny spark of warmth, safety, or joy.
It might be the way the sunlight hits the dust motes dancing in your living room. It might be a dog sticking its head out of a car window, ears flapping in the wind. It might be the smell of fresh coffee.
These aren’t life-changing events. They are micro-moments. But here is the magic: once you start looking for them, you realize they are everywhere.
I remember one particularly rough Tuesday last month. I was feeling overwhelmed by deadlines. I stepped outside and saw a toddler in a yellow raincoat jumping in a puddle, absolutely shrieking with delight. That was a glimmer. It pulled me out of my head and back into the world. Inspiration followed shortly after because my nervous system finally felt safe enough to play.
2. The "Awe Walk" (Leave the Headphones at Home)
We are addicted to input. If you are anything like me, you probably don’t walk anywhere without listening to a podcast, an audiobook, or a playlist. We are terrified of our own thoughts.
But there is a fascinating concept gaining traction in psychology called the "Awe Walk."
Researchers at UC San Francisco conducted a study on older adults and found that taking a 15-minute "awe walk" each week—where the specific goal was to look for things that amazed them—significantly increased their compassion and gratitude while lowering their distress.
The key here is the awe.
You aren’t walking for fitness. You aren’t walking to get from Point A to Point B. You are walking to be amazed.
I tried this last week. I left my phone at home (which felt terrifyingly naked, I admit) and walked around my neighborhood. I forced myself to look up instead of down.
I noticed the intricate architectural details on a building I’ve passed a thousand times and never really seen. I saw moss growing in the cracks of the sidewalk and marveled at how resilient life is.
When you witness the vastness of the world—even in a small way—it shrinks your ego. And when your ego shrinks, your problems feel smaller, and your capacity for inspiration grows.
As the legendary music producer Rick Rubin says in his book The Creative Act, "The ability to look deeply is the root of creativity. To see past the ordinary and the mundane and get to what might otherwise be invisible."
Try it today. Just 15 minutes. No tech. Just eyes wide open.
3. Embrace the "Waiting Room" Effect (Boredom is Good)
When was the last time you were truly bored?
I mean stare-at-the-wall, nothing-to-do bored.
In our modern world, boredom has been eradicated. If we have three seconds in an elevator, we pull out our phones. If we are waiting in line for coffee, we check emails. We treat boredom like a disease.
But neuroscience tells us that boredom is actually the fertilizer for creativity.
When you are constantly stimulated, your brain is in "reactive" mode. You are consuming, not creating. But when you are bored, your brain activates something called the Default Mode Network (DMN). This is the network responsible for daydreaming, problem-solving, and connecting disparate ideas.
Think about it: Why do you get your best ideas in the shower? Because it’s one of the few places left where you can’t scroll.
I’ve started intentionally creating "Waiting Room" moments in my day. I’ll sit on my porch for ten minutes with no book and no phone. Just sitting.
At first, it’s uncomfortable. My brain itches for dopamine. But after about five minutes, something shifts. My mind starts to wander. I start thinking about a conversation I had three years ago, or I notice the pattern of the clouds.
Suddenly, two ideas that seemingly had nothing to do with each other collide, and boom—inspiration.
If you are feeling stuck, stop trying to find the answer on Google. Put the phone down and let yourself be bored. The answer is usually hiding in the silence.
4. The "Wrong Turn" Strategy
Our brains love efficiency. We take the same route to work, we buy the same brand of oat milk, and we sit in the same spot on the couch. This is great for survival, but it is terrible for inspiration.
When you run on autopilot, your brain stops paying attention. You literally stop "seeing" the world because your brain predicts what is going to happen next to save energy.
To break this, you have to break the pattern.
I have a rule: Once a week, I have to take a "wrong turn."
If I’m walking to the grocery store, I force myself to turn down a street I’ve never walked down before. If I usually order a vanilla latte, I order a matcha.
It sounds trivial, but this slight disruption forces your brain to wake up.
I experienced this vividly last month. I took a different route home from the gym, cutting through a small park I usually ignore. In that park, I saw an old couple sitting on a bench, sharing a pair of wired headphones (remember those?). It was such a tender, cinematic moment.
That image stuck with me all week. It made me think about connection, technology, and love. If I had taken my normal route, I would have missed it completely.
Inspiration hides in the detours. Get lost on purpose.
5. Ethical Eavesdropping (The Human Connection)
Writers have known this secret for centuries: Other people are fascinating.
Sometimes, when I feel empty, it’s because I’ve been too focused on my story. I’m worrying about my goals, my problems, my to-do list. The best way to get out of that loop is to step into someone else’s story.
Go to a coffee shop, a park, or ride the bus. Don’t put your headphones in. Just listen.
I call it "Ethical Eavesdropping." I’m not saying you should spy on private matters, but just tuning into the hum of humanity around you can be incredibly inspiring.
You’ll hear snippets of dialogue that are funnier or more tragic than anything you could invent.
"I told him, if you buy that iguana, I’m moving out!"
"It’s not about the pasta, Karen, it’s about the principle."
These little fragments are reminders that everyone around you is the main character in their own complex, messy, beautiful movie. It reminds you that the world is rich with stories.
It creates a sense of Sonder—the realization that each random passerby is living a life as vivid and complex as your own. That feeling is pure fuel for empathy and creativity.
6. Visit the "Children’s Section"
We tend to overcomplicate our lives as adults. We think inspiration needs to come from high-brow literature, complex philosophy, or serious documentaries.
But sometimes, the profound truth is simple.
When I’m really stuck, I go to the library or a bookstore and walk straight to the children’s section. I pick up a picture book.
Children’s books deal with universal themes—friendship, fear, bravery, kindness, loss—but they distill them down to their purest essence. They don’t hide behind jargon or pretension.
I recently re-read The Velveteen Rabbit. There is a line in there where the Skin Horse explains to the Rabbit what it means to be "Real."
"It doesn't happen all at once," said the Skin Horse. "You become. It takes a long time. That's why it doesn't happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept."
That hit me harder than any self-help book I’ve read in the last decade. It reminded me that vulnerability is a strength.
If you are feeling mentally cluttered, go look at some illustrations. Read a story where the good guy wins, or where the caterpillar becomes a butterfly. It cleanses the palate. It reminds you of the wonder you used to feel before you got so busy being an adult.
7. Make "Bad Art" on Purpose
Finally, the biggest killer of inspiration is perfectionism.
We stop ourselves from starting because we are afraid it won’t be "good." We judge the idea before it even hits the paper.
The antidote to this is to lower the stakes. Way, way down.
I have a sketchbook. I am not an artist. I cannot draw. But when I am stuck writing, I open that sketchbook and I force myself to draw something "badly."
I’ll draw my coffee cup, but I’ll use my non-dominant hand. Or I’ll try to draw my cat without looking at the paper (blind contour drawing).
The result is always terrible. It looks like a scribble. It’s ugly.
And it is incredibly liberating.
By giving myself permission to make something "bad," I silence the inner critic. I remind myself that the act of creation is supposed to be play, not work.
Rick Rubin touches on this too. He suggests that we shouldn't create with the audience in mind. We should create for the sake of the act itself.
When you detach from the outcome, the flow returns. You realize that the world won't end if you write a bad sentence or paint a messy picture. And once that fear is gone, the real inspiration—the risky, weird, wonderful stuff—starts to flow through you.
The Magic is in the Mundane
The common thread through all of these points is this: Inspiration is a practice, not a miracle.
It is about tuning your radio frequency to catch the signals that are already in the air. It’s about noticing the glimmers, embracing the silence, and looking at the ordinary world with fresh eyes.
Life can feel grey and repetitive, especially on a random Tuesday. But if you look closely—if you really look—you’ll see that there is color everywhere.
So, here is my challenge to you for the rest of the day:
Find one glimmer.
Just one. It doesn’t have to be profound. It just has to be yours. Maybe it’s the steam rising off your tea. Maybe it’s the color of your coworker’s tie. Maybe it’s a song you haven’t heard in years playing on the radio.
Spot it. Acknowledge it. Let it sink in.
You might just find that the inspiration you were looking for was right there, waiting for you to notice.
What’s the one "glimmer" you’ve noticed today? I’d love to hear it.
Until next time, keep your eyes open.
— Your friend at Inspirersblog
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