Creative Block

I am sitting in a room that is being flooded with natural light, a calm and quiet space, perfect for thinking. In the background, Confession Box with PLA is playing on YouTube, an episode that is feeling especially special because it is featuring one of my favorite gospel artists, Nathaniel Bassey, the convener of The Halleluyah Challenge. Usually, when I am writing, I am tuning in to Afro-Gospel music. It helps me stay in rhythm—literally. I find myself nodding along as the words are flowing freely from my mind to the page (you’re getting that feeling, right?). But this time is different. I am not listening to music; I am listening to a podcast instead. Maybe it is because I have been away from writing for so long. And ironically, I am having so much in my head to write about, yet articulating those thoughts feels like a herculean task. I am blocked! Creatively blocked!

I’ve experienced creative blocks before, especially while working with companies and helping to build brands. But ever since I moved to Canada, I hadn’t really felt stuck creatively. I used to joke that maybe it was something about the Toronto air—or perhaps the nonstop energy of Downtown Toronto. But this time was unlike anything I had dealt with before.

To give you some context, I’ve been trying to land a job in the EST timezone (which I find very convenient), while still working in the CET timezone. At the same time, I had been planning my trip to Regina, juggling responsibilities at church, I'm one of the drummers, and preparing for a senior role assessment.

I had only a few days to complete this assessment. Normally, that would be enough. But the creative spark just wasn’t there. I thought I was just having an off day until I opened my Figma workspace and stared at the blank canvas. I’d never been so scared to start a project. What would usually take me three to four hours ended up dragging through the night. I thought maybe a cup of coffee would help. (Pro tip: Never take coffee late at night when you’re hoping to do creative work, it doesn’t help as much as you think it will.) I spent over fifteen hours trying to bring my idea to life, and still, it didn’t meet the standard I usually hold myself to. I didn’t give up, though. I kept pushing, pulling ideas from the corners of my mind.

Eventually, I completed the design. It wasn’t my best work, but it was the best I could produce at that moment. To my surprise, after I submitted the assessment, I was invited for an interview. The director told me, “Your work was really good and above our standard.”

That affirmation meant a lot, not just because it validated my effort, but because it reminded me that even when I’m not at my peak, I can still show up and give my best.

I’m not writing this because I’ve discovered a magic fix for creative block. I haven’t. But I realized that the things I did before the block hit helped me when it finally did. These habits, simple but consistent, worked like fuel when my engine stalled.

Here’s what helped me, and I believe it can help anyone in a creative field, not just designers:

• Feed your mind and eyes with good designs (or whatever relates to your craft).

• Appreciate other forms of art - music, paintings, sounds, even football. (Yes, I consider football a form of art.)

• Read articles and stories about design, business, or any industry that interests you.

• Follow and learn from professionals in your field. Study their work, their process, and their thoughts.

• Talk about your knowledge, write about what you know, ask questions, and share your journey.

All these things came together when I needed them most. And that’s why I’m writing this, to remind myself, and maybe someone else reading, that the creative block doesn’t mean the end. Sometimes, it’s just a pause before something meaningful takes shape.

I hope to keep writing and sharing more of these experiences. If even one person learns something from it, then it’s worth every word.