“There are three elements to every great idea: 1. It solves for ‘why.’ Long before you figure out what a product will do, you need to understand why people will want it. The ‘why’ drives the ‘what.’ 2. It solves a problem that a lot of people have in their daily lives. 3. It follows you around. Even after you research and learn about it and try it out and realize how hard it’ll be to get it right, you can’t stop thinking about it.” — Tony Fadell, Build
The third element is the only one that isn’t optional. You can fake the why — retrofit it, hire a consultant to write it on a slide in a font called Montserrat. You can borrow the what; most products are just other products in a better jacket. You cannot fake the third thing, because the whole test of it is that it happens without your permission.
Call it a visitation. It shows up uninvited at the stoplight, in the shower, at 2:40 a.m. when the ceiling becomes a screen for it. You know the unit economics don’t work. You know the regulatory path is nine years long. You know — you know — that fourteen better-funded people already tried this and left with nothing but a Delaware C-corp and a grudge. None of it helps. The idea has already filed its paperwork. It lives here now.
You cannot bullet-point a visitation. There is no OKR for thinking about landing gear hydraulics while your wife is telling you about her sister’s wedding. Everyone who’s built something that mattered will tell you this, late enough at a dinner and honest enough on the wine: not conviction, not passion — that laminated word — but the visitor, still standing in the doorway of every other thought you’re supposed to be having.
It doesn’t check your calendar. It doesn’t care that you’ve moved on to point two, the sensible one, the one venture capitalists nod along to with their flat whites going warm. It was never about the market. The market is the alibi you build afterward, so you don’t have to say the true thing: I didn’t choose it. It moved in while I was asleep, and my life rearranged itself around the shape of it, the way a house rearranges itself around a family it didn’t ask for.
Maybe the third element isn’t a filter for the idea. Maybe it’s a filter for you — a way of finding out, by accident, at 2:40 in the morning, staring at a ceiling that has decided to keep the light on.
We have become architects of our own incarceration, building prisons out of thirty-minute blocks and color-coded labels. We operate under a modern delusion: that a gap in the schedule is a leak in the ship. If we aren’t “doing,” we must be failing.
We treat our minds like high-performance engines that must never idle, forgetting that an engine constantly redlining eventually catches fire. Morgan Housel captures this paradox perfectly in Same as Ever:
“The most efficient calendar in the world—one where every minute is packed with productivity—comes at the expense of curious wandering and uninterrupted thinking, which eventually become the biggest contributors to success.”
The tragedy of the “most efficient calendar” is that it optimizes for the visible while starving the invisible. Productivity, in its most common definition, is about throughput—how many emails were sent, how many tickets were closed, how many boxes were checked. But these are administrative victories, not intellectual ones.
When we eliminate “curious wandering,” we eliminate the serendipity required for breakthrough. A breakthrough is rarely the result of a scheduled task; it is the byproduct of a mind allowed to roam until it trips over a connection it wasn’t looking for. By packing every minute, we ensure we are always busy, but we also ensure we are never surprised.
Uninterrupted thinking requires a certain level of inefficiency. It looks like staring out a window, taking a walk without a podcast, or sitting with a problem long after the “allocated” time has expired. In the eyes of a traditional manager—or our own internal critic—this looks like waste. Yet, this “waste” is the soil in which high-leverage ideas grow.
If we lose the ability to wander, we lose our edge. We become mere processors of information rather than creators of value. Real success isn’t found in the frantic filling of space, but in the courage to leave space empty, trusting that the silence will eventually speak.
I was speaking with a friend over the weekend who remarked to me how he has been using a workflow including dictation for writing his blog posts. This morning I happened across the following quote from author Kevin Kelly in my Readwise highlights feed:
“Separate the processes of creating from improving. You can’t write and edit or sculpt and polish or make and analyze at the same time. If you do, the editor stops the creator. While you invent, don’t select. While you sketch, don’t inspect. While you write the first draft, don’t reflect. At the start, the creator mind must be unleashed from judgment.”
Kevin Kelly, Excellent Advice for Living
Using Claude, I asked it to help me write this post. I used the following prompt:
Write a 750 word musing on the following quote. I would like to discuss a workflow that begins with initial idea capture followed by creating a mind map and letting that incubate for a few days. Then use dictation to create a first draft which happens faster than typing and with less mental editing. Then return to the keyboard for actual editing.
Here’s the final result I created which uses some initial writing from Claude which I then edited and revised to include some more specific details not the steps, tools, etc. for this workflow. I also used the title above that Claude proposed and I used Claude to generate a list of 25 keywords to associated with this post.
The creative process is a delicate dance between unbridled expression and careful refinement. Too often, we allow the inner critic to stifle our ideas before they’ve even had a chance to bloom, leading to a stagnant and stilted creative output. However, as Kevin Kelly wisely advises in the quote above, separating the processes of creating and improving can unlock a more organic and fruitful creative flow.
The initial idea capture is akin to planting a seed – a fragile yet promising spark of inspiration that requires nurturing and space to grow. In this stage, the mind should be free to wander, unencumbered by the weight of judgment or the pressure to produce a polished work. Allowing ourselves to simply jot down thoughts, scribble doodles, or record voice memos without censorship can be a liberating experience, inviting a torrent of raw creativity.
Once these seedlings of ideas have been gathered, the next step is to create a mind map – a visual representation that allows us to explore the connections and relationships between our initial thoughts. This process of organizing and expanding upon our ideas can be likened to tending a garden, where we prune away unnecessary branches and encourage the growth of the most promising shoots.
Letting the mind map incubate for a few days is akin to allowing the garden to flourish under the sun’s nourishing rays. During this period of mental rest, our subconscious continues to work behind the scenes, strengthening the connections and filling in the gaps. It is here that the magic of “slow hunches” can take root – those gradual insights and revelations that emerge organically as we revisit and ruminate on our mind maps over time. These slow hunches can open up entirely new avenues of thought, or shed light on the hidden paths connecting our scattered ideas.
Enter dictation, a powerful tool that allows us to harness the power of spoken word and let our ideas flow uninhibited. Unlike typing, which can sometimes feel like a bottleneck for our thoughts, dictation encourages a more natural and rapid expression, capturing the raw essence of our creativity before the inner editor has a chance to intervene. During this phase, we can use our work on the mind map to drive and inspire our first draft, letting the organized structure of our thoughts guide our verbal expression.
The resulting first draft is akin to a rough sketch or a sculptor’s initial clay form – a malleable and imperfect representation of our vision, but one that holds the promise of something greater. It is at this stage that we can finally invite the editor to the table, allowing ourselves to step back and critically analyze our work with a fresh perspective.
Returning to the keyboard for editing is like picking up the chisel and carefully sculpting the final form. We can refine our language, restructure our thoughts, and polish our ideas until they shine, all while maintaining a respectful distance from the initial creative spark that ignited the process.
By separating the processes of creating and improving, we honor the unique strengths and needs of each stage, allowing our ideas to flourish and our creativity to flow without unnecessary constraints. The initial idea capture and mind mapping foster uninhibited exploration, while the incubation period nurtures those elusive “slow hunches.” Dictation then provides a rapid and unfiltered avenue for expressing our matured thoughts, guided by the framework provided in our mind map. Finally, the editing phase allows us to refine and polish our work, transforming our raw creativity into a polished and cohesive final product.
In a world that often demands immediate perfection, embracing this workflow can be a liberating and empowering experience, reminding us that true creativity thrives when given the space to breathe and evolve. By separating the processes of creating and improving, we not only honor the integrity of our ideas but also cultivate a deeper appreciation for the rich tapestry of the creative journey itself – one that is woven with flashes of brilliance, patient nurturing, and the magical unfolding of our “slow hunches.”
Summary of Steps:
Initial idea capture – let ideas flow freely without judgment. Using a tool like Drafts (iOS, iPadOS, Mac) allows quick capture even using an Apple Watch.
Create a mind map to visually organize and expand on ideas. As you create your initial mind map, capture new thoughts that get triggered and place them appropriately near others.
Let the mind map incubate for a few days to allow “slow hunches” to emerge. Your mind will continue “noodling” on the idea and each time you re-open the mind map you may trigger new insights you want to add or adjust.
Use dictation to rapidly capture a first draft, using the mind map to drive and inspire the content. Just talk out your thoughts without any effort at editing them.
Return to the keyboard for editing the first draft, refining and polishing the work. Let the edited draft sit for a few days. Reopen it a couple of times with fresh eyes and edit, usually removing words to tighten up the clarity of your thoughts.
