A few decades ago, scientists began to notice something strange about the brain. Creativity, they realized, didn’t live in one place. It wasn’t confined to the left hemisphere or the right, no matter what a thousand personality quizzes and pop psychology books insisted. And it wasn’t something that just switched on with inspiration.

It was something more fluid—chemical, conditional, and metabolically expensive.

It's that last part, which we don’t talk about enough.

We love the idea of creativity. We praise it in meetings, list it in job postings, and expect it to appear on demand. But wanting creativity isn’t the same as triggering it. The brain isn’t designed to deliver innovative ideas just because we value them. It’s designed to conserve energy, minimize risk, and avoid uncertainty. And in that system, creativity is a luxury—something that stays offline unless it’s absolutely necessary. By default, it’s off.

From an evolutionary standpoint, that makes perfect sense. Creativity demands resources. It takes focus, tolerates ambiguity, and disrupts routine. And because it doesn’t guarantee a reward, the brain won’t activate it unless the outcome justifies the cost. That’s not a flaw. That’s strategy.

Which means the real challenge isn’t coming up with better ideas.

It’s getting your brain to believe the effort is worth it.

Here’s the part most people miss: creativity isn’t rare. It’s reserved. It’s not missing, it’s dormant. And like anything dormant, it needs the right signals to wake up. Not pressure, not praise, but cues. A clearer purpose. A better question. A space safe enough to try something new. When those are in place, creativity doesn’t erupt. It stirs. Quietly. Subtly. In sharper insights, better decisions, and small shifts that seem obvious only in hindsight.

Most people don’t think of themselves as creative. They may have their moments—a clever fix, a new way of seeing something—but they think of creativity as something other people do. Artists. Designers. Inventors.

But that’s not true. We all have the capacity. What most of us lack isn’t talent. It’s activation.

So let me show you what that looks like. Not with theories or famous case studies, but with three people I’ve known for years. None of them work in art studios or innovation labs. They work in ordinary roles, doing work that doesn’t scream creativity. But each, in their own world and in their own way, found a way to turn it on and showed what creativity actually looks like in practice.

A Librarian Walks Into a Meeting…

Julie is a librarian by training, but her expertise goes well beyond traditional library walls. She’s spent more than a decade working across education, technology, and media—building tools, organizing information, managing metadata, and helping people navigate complex systems. Her skill isn’t just in finding answers. It’s in recognizing what people are really searching for...and sometimes what they aren’t.

In 2011, Julie was serving as Chapter president of her professional association. Her job was to organize monthly events—ones that typically featured industry updates, expert panels, and networking opportunities. This was the moment when social platforms like Facebook and LinkedIn were just beginning to feel professionally relevant. And suddenly, everyone needed a headshot.

The problem was, no one had one. Or if they did, it was too formal, too stiff, or too dated to post on a profile.

So Julie did something no one had thought to do. At one of the monthly chapter meetings, she brought in a photographer. Not for publicity. Not to document the event. But so members could get a photo. One they could actually use, one that felt like them.

No one asked for a photographer. But they needed one.

Julie didn’t just add something extra, she widened the lens. And in doing so, she redefined what a professional meeting could offer. It wasn’t about following the agenda. It was about seeing what her members were quietly struggling with and meeting that need before they knew how to ask.

Today, headshot booths are standard. But back then, the idea was unheard of. No one expected their local chapter to solve that kind of problem. But Julie had broadened her view. She didn’t ask what kind of event she was supposed to plan. She asked a better question: What do her members really need? And then she answered it.

Tip 1: Make The Problem Bigger

When you’re stuck, don’t just ask what people say they need. Ask what might be slowing them down, getting in their way, or not anticipating. Think beyond the request. Think beyond the assignment.

We’re often too quick to define what the problem is and then get stuck solving only that. But what if the original question isn’t the real barrier? Broaden the lens. Ask what other frictions, expectations, or hidden needs might be shaping the situation. The most effective ideas often come when you step back far enough to see what others have missed.

The Man with a Hundred Ideas (Ninety-Nine of them bad)

Bill is the kind of person who seems built for failure. Not in any tragic sense, but in his comfort with rejection. He’s personable, funny, and widely respected. But he has a habit of throwing out ideas that often miss the mark. Some are so offbeat they border on absurd. And yet, he shares them with complete conviction.

Then, almost without fail, one of them hits. It’s the idea no one else thought of. So clear and useful it seems obvious in hindsight. A stalled project moves forward. A hard decision becomes easy. Something entirely new takes shape. The room shifts.

People often remember that one great idea. But that’s not where the magic is. Bill isn’t a genius in the traditional sense. He’s a volume shooter. He doesn’t treat ideas like his children—precious and worth protecting. He treats them like prototypes: rough drafts to be tested, tossed, improved, or ignored. His process isn’t about working from a blank slate. It’s about generating enough options until the right one reveals itself. His gift isn’t brilliance. It’s persistence and the willingness to be wrong, again and again, until something clicks.

And that’s the real insight. Great ideas don’t come from caution. They come from motion. The key isn’t guarding your thinking, it’s letting it out. Bill’s gift is his willingness to keep going. He doesn’t wait until it’s safe. He just keeps asking:

“What about this?”

Without ever being discouraged by the response.

Tip 2: Risk Being Wrong

Say it before it’s perfect. Before it’s polished. Before you’ve figured out whether anyone will agree.

The best ideas don’t always walk in wearing a nametag. Sometimes they arrive looking like a mistake. And the only way to find them is to keep showing up, keep speaking up, and, most importantly, be willing to get it wrong.

Most of us were taught to protect our reputations, to share only polished thoughts and well-formed ideas. But that instinct is the enemy of new thinking. The people who create breakthroughs aren’t always the smartest. They’re the ones who keep going, even when their early ideas get ignored, laughed at, or dismissed. If you want better ideas, create more of them. And share before you’re ready.

The Pitch That Changed the Room

Dave worked for a company that sold fire prevention systems. Sprinklers. Alarms. Control panels. They were struggling to get clients to invest in protection upgrades. The feedback was always the same: “We have insurance for that.”

They brought me in to help their sales teams tell better stories—stories that would resonate with potential clients and move them to act. Most of the teams focused on the usual angles: safety, compliance, doing the right thing.

But Dave approached it differently. He stopped talking about what they were selling and started focusing on what the client stood to lose.

When it was his turn to present, Dave opened with two questions:

“Where will your customers go when you’re out of business for 18 months?”

“And how much will it cost to win them back once they’ve settled in somewhere else?”

He didn’t add anything new. He just reframed the message. He turned it so the stakes came into focus.

Tip 3: Add A Frame

In art, the frame doesn’t just hold the picture, it shapes how we see it. A thick frame can make a small painting feel more important. A wide one can give it space to breathe. Shift the frame to one side, and the entire meaning of the piece can change. The artwork stays the same, but our attention shifts. Our perception sharpens.

The same thing happens with ideas.

Creativity isn’t always about adding something new. Sometimes it’s about changing the perspective so what’s already there becomes obvious. That’s what Dave did. He didn’t change the facts, he changed the focus. He reframed the conversation so the stakes were unmistakable.

If you want your idea to land, don’t just explain it. Frame it. Show people what matters and why. Because just like in art, the frame doesn’t decorate the message. It defines it.

For more inspiration, watch this: https://youtu.be/yPNQ4xsaNiY?si=ZHmrMSkkghqVodaq

The Pattern Behind the People

Three people. None of them artists. None of them inventors. But each one profoundly creative in a way we rarely talk about.

Julie asked what people needed before they could name it.

Bill asked what was missing—again and again—until something clicked.

Dave asked what the real risk was—not to the building, but to the business.

None of them waited for the perfect conditions. None of them used the word “creative” to describe what they were doing. But all of them had one thing in common: they warmed up the chemistry in their brains by doing something most people avoid.

P.S.

Julie Cavender—the Julie in the first story—is currently exploring new opportunities. If you’re looking for someone who brings sharp thinking, natural empathy, and the kind of quiet creativity that makes everything better, I couldn’t recommend her more. If you have a place for her talents, reach out Julie Cavender. You won’t regret the creativity you get.

Where Creativity Hides: Three People Who Found It