It started on a grey morning walk with Sien. Nothing in my ears for once, just wind and leaves and a work week waiting to start. Somewhere between the fields and my to-do list I caught myself wondering when I’d last felt creative. Not productive or efficient; creative.

That took me straight back to the carpet. Kneeling in a heap of LEGO, building something that didn’t exist anywhere else yet, with no plan and nobody waiting for it. I built because it felt right, and that was the whole reason.

A few threads

Martin Kuipers once asked me: “What was the thing you could do forever in your younger years?” For me it was always building, and never by the instructions. Combining, testing, pulling it apart, building it again, then carrying it over to show my parents. That urge never really left. It just learned to wear a suit, sit in meetings and call itself ‘delivery’.

Then there was my friend Lisa’s salon, a small evening on creative health in regenerative workplaces. Nobody talked about frameworks or productivity. It was about time and attention, and what people are capable of when efficiency isn’t the only thing being measured. I was still chewing on it the next morning, out on the walk.

And there’s some research on this too. People who move more, who walk and stay active, also tend to do more creative things (one of the studies is linked below). I like that the body seems to be in on it.

Feeling and being

The way I’ve started to think about it: feeling creative is being open, letting your mind wander, saying “what if…” without needing it to go anywhere. Being creative is when that openness takes a shape, whether that’s cooking, sketching, gardening or code.

If I look at it like that, it’s less about having to produce something and more about choosing to reconnect with that kid on the carpet. And I think the feeling counts on its own, even on days when nothing comes out of it.

It’s not something I switch on at work and off at home, either. When I cook it’s the same rhythm as the LEGO; combining, trying things, caring more about what happens than how it ends. When I build digital systems or help a team find its way, I still feel that same kid rearranging blocks. And when I look at where my attention goes in a day, what drains me and what gives me energy, the creative bits are usually hiding somewhere in that balance.

So maybe creative health isn’t about finding time for art. Maybe it’s more about letting yourself notice things and wander a bit, and moving on purpose. I don’t really know yet. I’ll keep walking, and building, and see where it goes. 🌈