Chasing Down Your Muse

Why stepping outside routine is really, really important to your creativity

You may remember that back in February, I started a personal curriculum in game design. When I last checked in, I had landed on a rough framework for a two-player game that would produce a created artifact as its output. It was a promising skeleton, but as I got into testing it, the spark just wasn't there and I shelved it.  It was easy for me to justify setting it down since April is always hectic, and there was a trip in the middle of it anyway.

If you're anything like me, the weeks leading up to a trip are their own special kind of stress. There's always a million things to finish before you leave, a nagging list of things you know aren't going to get done (like a middling game idea), and a low-level anxiety humming underneath all of it. I blame my New England upbringing.  You know, that deeply ingrained sense that you can't enjoy yourself until all the work is finished. (Spoiler: the work is never finished.)

That mindset is the enemy of creative thinking. It's fairly well established that muses like to hide in the quiet, unstructured moments - the walks, the daydreams, the times when you're not trying to think (it turns out boredom is good for you.) But when I'm in full "get stuff done" mode, I forget this completely. The to-do list colonizes my brain and there's no room left for ideas to wander in.

This overcluttered brain space always sneaks up on me and I don’t notice it until something forces me out of my routines. Enter a trip to NYC.  I had some free time in the city, and somewhere in the middle of the organized chaos of those streets, something shifted. While riding the C train back from the Cloisters, the one-page RPG concept I'd been wrestling with turned into something completely different (and I'll be sharing that soon.) The insight I brought home, however, was a concept that I often forget: a change of scenery can change everything.

Travel has always been one of the great engines of creative work, and it's not hard to see why. When you step out of your own town and into somewhere new, your brain has no choice but to pay attention. Museums, parks, concerts, unfamiliar streets, architecture you've never seen before - any of it can nudge your mind into a more open, receptive state. The ideas were probably there all along. They just needed room to surface.

Now, I know what you're thinking: "Chris. Travel? In this economy?" Fair point. Even a destination only a few hours away can be genuinely out of reach right now. But the core idea of getting out of your usual context doesn't require a plane ticket or a hotel room. A local museum on a free admission night, a different route on your daily walk, a coffee shop on the other side of town: any of these can interrupt the autopilot your brain runs on and crack the door open for something new.

Take a look at your usual space for a moment. Really look at it. Mine (partially pictured in the horrifying photo above) is layered with books, notes, art supplies, and half-finished projects that have been in the same spots for so long I don't actually see them anymore. I don't notice the mug I drink from every morning, or which pen I'm using to ink a drawing, or even the order in which I move through my work. It's all running on a program that I wrote a long time ago, and I execute it without thinking. It's comfortable, but it's not where my new ideas come from.

When I step out of that routine, even briefly, the program gets interrupted. Suddenly I'm wondering how to incorporate an interesting receipt into a collage, or why birds keep landing on that particular statue, or where that guy got such a spectacular hat. My brain starts asking questions again instead of just running its usual loops. And that's exactly the condition "The Muse" requires. She doesn't show up when you summon her. She shows up when you finally stop being busy long enough for her to get a word in.

So if you're stuck on a project, be it a game or any other creative endeavor, put down your phone, grant yourself a short break from your list of things to do and intentionally take yourself out of your routine. Bring your brain on a date somewhere new and let it wander for a while.

Homework Challenge: The Unfamiliar Errand

Pick one thing you need to do this week and do it somewhere you've never been before. That's it. No creative pressure, no agenda. Just go somewhere new and let yourself be curious. Notice what you notice. Bring a notebook or your phone if you want to capture anything, but don't force it. The goal is simply to interrupt the autopilot for an hour or two and see what wanders in. Tip: animals and people are very interesting subjects for this exercise, just, you know, don't be creepy about it.

Bonus points if you leave your headphones at home.