I’m often asked where my creative ideas come from. I usually answer, the world is our greatest teacher. It’s constantly tapping us on the shoulder, whispering reminders to look up, look around, and actually see what’s happening in our lives. Learning doesn’t only happen in textbooks, webinars, or thirty-second clips served to us by an algorithm. It happens in the quiet, ordinary moments we rush past, the stranger who smiles at us in the supermarket aisle, the way the sky shifts colours on our morning walk, or even a sentence on the back of a bus that unexpectedly stirs something inside us. Life is always handing us tiny invitations to wake up and pay attention.
People often assume creativity arrives in dramatic flashes of inspiration, but for me, it’s the opposite. I notice the small things. I pay attention to stuff most people hurry past. The way a child drags their feet when they’re tired, the way a neighbour’s dog pauses as if it understands something I don’t, the way a single sunbeam lands on my desk in the afternoon, these little moments become sparks. They remind me that creativity isn’t about chasing something grand; it’s about being present enough to catch the quiet details life offers freely.
And the best lessons aren’t the ones we memorise; they’re the ones we live. They come from making meaning out of what’s unfolding right in front of us. Each day asks us to move through the world with a little more confidence, a little more steadiness, and a willingness to notice what we usually overlook. When we slow down enough to connect the dots, the simple with the complex, the joyful with the uncomfortable, we begin to understand how to navigate this extraordinary, messy, beautiful life we’re all living. Creativity, it turns out, isn’t something we find. It’s something we’re already surrounded by.
