I was introduced to Graham Wallas’s four-stage model of creativity while reading an article from The Guardian UK. It mentioned that sparks of creativity often happen when we are doing some kind of mindless activity, like taking a shower or going for a jog. I have had many eureka moments like this, and I imagine you have too. For instance, yesterday I was down in the dumps after my initial plans for a project got derailed. Instead of scrolling through YouTube, I went for a twenty-minute run, and in the midst of that, I realized I could still salvage the project with an alternative approach.
Wallas expounds in his theory that creativity is not something magical or mystical; there is actually a structured process to it: Preparation, Incubation, Illumination, and Verification. Doing something mindless when the brain stalls belongs to the incubation phase. As a person who loves to plan and execute, my downfall is the arduous wait when incubation sets in.
I have little to no difficulty with the Preparation stage because I naturally love to research. Over the years, I have also learned to cap my options at a certain limit, because too many choices just become confusing and overwhelming. The main problem for me really is this incubation stage, purely because patience is a virtue that remains underdeveloped in me. I can be irascible, quick to speak, and a bit too spontaneous. I used to hate this part of myself. However, after counseling many people with anger issues, I’ve learned that feeling and acknowledging the emotion—the heat, the itch, the impulse—is not the problem. Acting on it rashly is where the complication lies.
What I’ve come to respect and acknowledge is that it takes time to activate the Default Mode Network (DMN) in the brain. It cannot be forced; you need to be in a relaxed state. It requires a form of letting go. Because I am a planner and I love conclusions—which make me feel safe due to my history with Complex PTSD—I tend to jump to conclusions before I have even taken step one.
Yet, this waiting is necessary to reach the next step of creativity Wallas called Illumination—the breakthrough moment where we get the answers we’ve been seeking. After all, when we create something, we are looking for something, aren’t we? Even if we do not know exactly what we are looking for in the first place. For the past few months, the answer to a problematic part of my Young Adult style memoir manuscript had eluded me. Illumination did not come until I gave it a long, long rest. It took me months of waiting for the right time. Kaya naman pala, I just wasn’t ready because I was bogged down with PhD study requirements more than I cared to admit. I simply wasn’t able to consciously acknowledge it at the time. The moment summer vacation started for grad school, I intently started working on the seemingly forsaken draft.
Creativity’s final stage is Verification, where insight is brought back into the light for real-world testing and refinement. I am not quite there yet with my manuscript. I have just sent it to the next level and need outside, third-party help. Goodness, even with the immense popularity of AI nowadays, I am using a real person and not an AI as my sole editor.
As painful as it is for a planner like me, I am learning the art of waiting on my creativity. I think of it as a hen sitting on an egg, or a mother about to give birth. My creativity needs a nest to grow. It is like an embryo, gestating in the womb of my unconscious. Eventually, a little chick will emerge, hatch, and one day even take flight. As an introvert, I must respect that this is exactly how my introverted intuition operates. Ultimately, insight is precisely that transition from darkness to light. It cannot be forced; I can only nurture it along as a responsible caretaker.
