Why do we get our ideas in the shower?

Those of us in American culture take pride in being busy. Really busy. We have to fill every moment with something “productive”–checking our smartphones at the bus stop, taking part in a ton of organizations, working late, jotting down a few hundred words for the day, or a thousand other ways we cram something into every second so we’re not caught doing nothing and can continue to check things off our to-do lists. We feel a strange, sometimes distressing, pride when we can say, “Oh, I don’t have time for that kind of stuff; I’m way too busy.”

And when we’re not “busy?” We collapse in front of the TV or something else mindless to get swept away in.

I recently read about a study on how children who are over-scheduled–those whose every moment of their day is packed with clubs and activities and school and homework–come out with stunted imaginations. They’ve never been bored. They’ve always had their activities provided for them, rather than thinking about how to entertain themselves.

Since the imagination is also critical for storytelling (and other creating) adults, I’ve been wondering just how much of this relates to adults who are always busy and over-occupied. Some people manage to carve out writing time, only to be disappointed in the results because they only think about their story when they sit at their chair to make their daily word count. When you’re dealing with something that is completely in your head, thinking about it is a key factor in creating it.

Let’s return to my original question–why do we get ideas in the shower? I believe it’s because that’s one of the only times we slow down. We can’t have our smartphones with us in the shower (yet). We can’t be checking our email or doing business. We’re doing something monotonous that we’ve done every day for tens of years. Those are precious, guilt-free moments of nothingness that let the brain noise quiet just long enough to let our imaginations play. There are other moments like this, like when our brains stop just enough for us to fall asleep.

Today, I give you permission to under-occupy your brain and think about your story.

Take a walk. Sit on the couch with a warm beverage. Take a long bath. Stare out the window while you ride the bus.  If you can’t stand the lack of background noise, turn on some music. Don’t turn on the TV, an audio book, or talk radio. Don’t dink around on your phone, update Facebook, play Angry Birds, or check your RSS reader. Let your mind wander. Don’t try to force yourself on to the story, but when something mundane demands its way in, acknowledge and then dismiss it. This will probably happen a lot at first. Have paper and pen nearby if you like, but this isn’t carving out writing time, this is carving out thinking time.

Chances are, you’re going to feel restless, edgy, and–dare I say it–bored, if you’re one of those particularly busy-busy sorts (guilty!). You might even feel lazy. But keep at it, and see what happens when you give yourself permission to do nothing but think.

See where your mind goes. See where your story goes.