Most of us treat ideas like trains: if we’re not on the platform at the right minute, we assume we’ve missed them. But good ideas behave more like weather. They drift in when conditions are right, and our job is to create those conditions more often.
Start by protecting a little unstructured time. Twenty minutes with a notebook and no agenda is enough. Walk without headphones. Let yourself get bored. Boredom is where your mind starts connecting things it would normally keep apart.
You can’t schedule a good idea, but you can leave the door open for one.
Then collect everything. A line from a song, a sign on a shop window, a question a friend asked. Keep a running list and look back at it once a week. You’ll notice patterns you didn’t see when you wrote each one down.
Finally, play before you judge. Make ten bad versions before you try to make one good one. The surprise you’re looking for is usually hiding behind the first few obvious answers.

