Routine Is My Creative Superpower
Every work morning, I get up at the same time, have breakfast, and walk the ten blocks to my studio. I make a coffee, boot up the computer, and sit poised for the day’s work…..almost exactly at 10 a.m.
I imagine this sounds pretty ordinary, like many people with a traditional office job. But the difference is: this routine is entirely self-imposed.
Working as a freelance creative is very different from most other careers. I’ve never had a boss expecting me to show up at a specific time. There's rarely a defined to-do list or a clear body of work to "get through." No one schedules my lunch breaks or tells me when to knock off.
Sounds great, right? So why the structure?
A lot of the typical expectations of a 9-to-5 job are seen as restrictive, something people dream of escaping. But for me, routine is the escape. My work is inherently unpredictable. One day I might be recording an album, the next scoring a show. So I build predictability in where I can.
By sticking to a morning ritual, blocking out tasks for the day, and giving myself deadlines, I create a framework to operate within. (I’m also a bit boring on weeknights…my routines extend right through to bedtime.)
If you haven’t read The Creative Habit by Twyla Tharp, do. It was a game-changer for me.
We are creatures of habit. I became proficient at music through repetition. I benefitted from a stable home life growing up: dinner at 5:30, trumpet lessons on Fridays, bed at 8:30. Structure made me feel safe and gave me space to grow.
Early in my career, my studio was a spare room at home. It didn’t take long to realise I needed a clear division between work and home. So I began treating that room like an office. I’d "commute" to it after breakfast and coffee, avoid distractions, and not re-enter after hours. (This was back when you could leave emails until tomorrow…they hadn’t yet crept into our pockets.)
These days, my studio is ten blocks from home. The physical separation helps reinforce that same boundary, no imagination required.
Some believe that creative inspiration shouldn’t be restricted by time or space. I tend to disagree. As I’ve said before, creativity is a muscle, not a magical gift. Sure, we might occasionally tap into something mysterious or profound. But mostly, we’re specialists. Just like athletes, we rely on skill, training, and consistency.
I use Google Calendar to block out my tasks. It suits me. I like the visual layout. Despite the unpredictability of the creative process, I’m still surprised by how accurately I can stick to my deadlines. Maybe it’s intuition, maybe just years of practice. Things occasionally do run over, and when they do I go back and adjust the calendar retrospectively, not because I’m obsessive, but so I can accurately track the time I actually spent. That data is valuable.
In a world that often romanticises spontaneity and “creative chaos,” I’ve found that consistency is my secret weapon. My routine isn’t about rigidity. It’s about making space for focus, flow, and freedom within a framework. It helps me show up, stay present, and do the work. Creativity doesn’t just strike — it shows up when we tell it to.
