Where does creativity come from? And what happens when you can’t find it?
- Cecilia Noguera
- Jun 6
- 3 min read

I'm a firm believer that creativity can be found and applied anywhere. From the art department of a major advertising agency to something as seemingly mundane as an Excel sheet for your finances, creativity is less about making something pretty and more about how we connect the dots to solve a problem. It’s not always about aesthetics, usefulness, or even scalability: it’s about thinking differently.
But how do you find a solution when the problem is the sudden absence of creativity itself? What happens when the “muses” go silent?
Creativity, and where it comes from
Creativity is deeply personal. Its roots are infinite and unique to each of us. Still, most of us know the feeling when it appears: a spark of connection between ideas, a visual that makes sense, a sudden clarity.
For some, it comes like a flowing river: natural, instinctive. For others, it’s methodical, like solving a complex equation. But both ends of the spectrum rely on the same core structure: curiosity, inspiration, execution, and reflection.
Yes, creativity can be sparked by a museum visit, a cloud shaped like something, or a beautiful sentence overheard in the gym. But those sources are fleeting, and we’re usually too busy to notice. What our brains do have time for, however, is worry. And that, right there, is a goldmine. What if we used our constant internal chatter to our advantage? What if the very thing that makes us anxious could also make us creative?
The creative process (and how to use it to your advantage)
Even though creativity feels unique to each person, there’s a recognizable pattern to how it works:
Absorption – Gathering input: ideas, references, emotions, questions. It can be structured research or simply paying attention to your surroundings.
Incubation – Letting those ideas settle and simmer beneath the surface.
Illumination – The “aha” moment. Not always grand, but enough to move you forward.
Execution – Translating the idea into something real. Messy, imperfect, but it’s a start.
Reflection and refinement – Reviewing, editing, and asking for feedback. Possibly the hardest part, especially when perfectionism or impostor syndrome creeps in.
That’s all great, but what if creativity just… won’t come?
Let’s be honest: it’s always when we need creativity the most that it feels completely out of reach. The clock is ticking, the deadline’s looming, and the ideas just won’t show up. Then come the doubts. The panic. The voice in your head whispers, “What if that was your last good idea ever?”
Too dramatic? Maybe. But that’s exactly how I felt today. And it’s also exactly why I’m writing this.
Because, funny enough, the creative process itself helped me solve the problem of not feeling creative. Here’s how I walked myself through it, and maybe it’ll help you the next time you’re staring at a blank page, too.
Issue: No new content ideas. Creative drought.
Absorption: Step one was just noticing the anxiety. That tight feeling in your chest when you know you have to create something and... nothing's coming. So I went back and re-read some of my old blog posts.
Incubation: I started linking ideas: lack of inspiration, pressure to deliver, the channels I use for content. What do they have in common?
Illumination: The idea hit: why not write about the lack of creativity?
Execution: Time to wrestle with the blank page. For me, this means a lo-fi Taylor Swift playlist (yes, that exists. And yes, it helps) and the satisfying clickety-clack of my old mechanical keyboard.
Reflection and refinement: You’re not reading the first draft. Not even the fifth. Future-me is probably still tweaking it before it gets published. (Hi from past-me, by the way.)
So, now what?
We found an idea. We created something. Problem solved, right?
Sure, for now. But here’s the tricky part: if your work relies on creativity, this process happens every day. Over and over. Sometimes more than once. Creativity is always there, somewhere, but often it hides behind pressure, fear, distraction, or simply tiredness.
That’s why working in a creative field isn’t for the faint of heart. We constantly lose our north and have to fight every day to find it again.
Now it’s your turn.
The final piece of this creative loop is you, dear reader. Because those of us who create content? We're storytellers. And there’s no story without someone to hear it.
So let me ask you:
Have you ever felt this way?
What does your creative process look like?
And maybe most importantly: how do you celebrate when creativity finally returns?