Give me a blank page and unlimited possibilities, and I can spend an extraordinary amount of time achieving absolutely nothing.
Not because I can’t think of anything.
Quite the opposite.
I can think of far too many things.
This is why I’ve discovered that one of the best things I can do for my creativity is give it some rules.
Which sounds completely backwards.
But hear me out.
What do you make when you can make anything?#
One of my hobbies is making jewellery.
And the wonderful thing about making jewellery is that, within reason, I can make pretty much whatever I want.
The possibilities are enormous.
Which is lovely, until my brain starts exploring all of them.
I could make earrings. Or necklaces. Or something with wire. Or beads. Or maybe I should learn an entirely new technique. Actually, what if I combined two techniques?
You get the idea.
At some point, I realised that having absolutely no boundaries wasn’t necessarily helping me create anything.
So I started making collections.
One was based on requests from family and friends. They told me what they wanted, and I worked out how to make it.
Another was inspired by nature.
And another used old computer components I’d taken apart.
Suddenly, I had somewhere to begin.
The funny thing about looking for something#
The nature-inspired collection was particularly interesting.
I started noticing things on my walks that I would previously have walked straight past.
The shape of a leaf. The details in plants and trees. Colours appearing together in combinations I would never have thought of myself.
They were already there.
I just hadn’t been looking at them that way.
The framework didn’t tell me what to create. It gave me something to be curious about.
The computer-parts collection worked the same way. Instead of wondering what I could make from anything, I was exploring what I could make from the pieces in front of me.
I wasn’t being less creative because I had fewer options.
I was actually making things.
A rather important distinction. 😂
Apparently, I do this at work too#
I’ve noticed the same thing in projects.
Give me a project with no clear scope, no agreed outcome, and no boundaries, and my brain can come up with possibilities forever.
We could do this.
But what if we also did that?
And while we’re here, wouldn’t it make sense to improve this other thing?
Before long, we’ve got an absolutely magnificent collection of ideas.
And potentially no finished project.
Scope creep would be having the time of its life.
But give me a clear objective, some constraints, and an understanding of what success looks like, and suddenly I have a problem I can really get my teeth into.
I can explore approaches, test ideas, ask questions, and look for opportunities.
And I have a way to decide which ideas actually belong in this piece of work.
The boundaries don’t tell me how to solve the problem.
They help me understand which problem I’m solving.
A little structure goes a long way#
I’ve noticed it in everyday life, too. When everything I need to do is floating around in my head, part of my attention is always occupied trying to remember what’s next.
Having those things organised gives me the freedom to concentrate on what I’m actually doing.
Including absolutely nothing, if that’s what I’ve decided to do.
Which is a perfectly respectable use of free time, thank you very much. 😂
Of course, too much structure can be just as unhelpful as too little.
A framework that dictates every decision doesn’t leave much room for creativity or judgment.
And I certainly don’t think every hobby needs a project initiation document.
Although I am now slightly tempted to prepare one for my next pair of earrings.
A place to begin#
I used to think freedom meant having as many options as possible.
And sometimes it does.
But I’ve discovered that a little structure gives my ideas somewhere to go.
And sometimes, as I discovered while looking for jewellery inspiration on my walks, it helps me see things I might never have noticed otherwise.
For me, structure doesn’t take away my freedom to be creative.
It gives that creativity somewhere to begin.
Originally published on LinkedIn.