You’ve been at it for hours.
Staring at the blank page. Forcing your brain to produce something. Telling yourself that if you just concentrate harder, push a little more, stay focused a little longer: the idea will come.
But it doesn’t.
Instead, you get more stuck. More frustrated. More convinced that something’s wrong with you.
Here’s what I need you to know: nothing is wrong with you.
The problem isn’t your effort. It’s that effort itself is the problem.
The Trap of Thinking Harder
Your creative mind doesn’t respond to force the way your logical mind does.
When you sit down to balance your budget or write an email, focused concentration works. You apply effort, you get results. Cause and effect.
But creativity? Creativity works differently.
The more you push your brain to generate ideas, the more it shuts down. It’s like trying to remember a word that’s on the tip of your tongue: the harder you chase it, the further it runs. The moment you stop trying, it appears.
This isn’t laziness or lack of discipline. It’s neuroscience.
When you force your mind into intense, narrow focus, you’re activating the part of your brain designed for problem-solving and threat detection. That’s useful for a lot of things. But creative flow? It needs something else entirely.
It needs space. Softness. Permission to wander.
When you stop thinking hard and give your brain a break, it enters what researchers call “default mode.” This is the state where your mind works on its own: making unexpected connections, pulling threads together, generating ideas that feel like they arrived fully formed.
You’ve experienced this already. In the shower. On a walk. Washing dishes. Driving.
Suddenly, the idea you’d been wrestling with for days just… lands.
Not because you worked harder. Because you stopped working altogether.
What Overthinking Actually Does
Let’s be honest about what happens when you try to muscle through a creative block.
Your inner critic gets louder. That voice that says you’re not good enough, not original enough, not [insert impossible standard here] enough. It fills every inch of mental space.
You start second-guessing. Editing before you’ve even begun. Comparing yourself to people three steps ahead. Wondering if it’s even worth trying.
This isn’t creative thinking. This is self-protection dressed up as productivity.
And here’s the thing: it makes sense that you do this. If creating feels vulnerable (and it does), and if putting yourself out there has felt scary or unsafe (and it probably has), then of course your brain tries to control the outcome by thinking harder.
It’s trying to keep you safe.
But safety and creative flow don’t live in the same room.
Flow requires uncertainty. A little bit of not-knowing. The willingness to follow an idea without immediately interrogating whether it’s “good enough.”
Overthinking blocks that. It keeps you circling the same thoughts, the same doubts, the same mental loops: never landing anywhere new.
You can’t think your way into flow. You have to soften your way in.
The Permission to Stop Trying So Hard
I know this might sound counterintuitive. Especially if you’ve spent years being told that discipline and focus are the only paths to success.
But what if the thing you need most right now isn’t more effort?
What if it’s permission to ease up?
Permission to walk away from the project when it feels stuck. Permission to do something boring and repetitive instead of “productive.” Permission to trust that your creative mind is still working even when you’re not actively forcing it.
You are allowed to let it be easy.
You’re allowed to stop treating creativity like a battle you need to win.
Here’s what actually works when you’re feeling blocked:
Do something monotonous. Clean a room. Fold laundry. Organize your bookshelf. Let your hands be busy while your mind wanders.
Move your body gently. A walk without your phone. Stretching. Dancing in your kitchen. Movement that feels good, not punishing.
Consume something that fills you up. Read poetry. Watch a film that moves you. Visit a gallery. Let yourself be inspired without the pressure to create immediately afterward.
Journal without a goal. Not to “figure it out,” but to let your thoughts spill onto the page messily and without judgment.
Rest. Properly. Not scrolling-while-pretending-to-relax rest. Actual, doing-nothing, staring-at-the-ceiling, letting-your-nervous-system-settle rest.
These aren’t distractions from your creative work. They are the work.
They’re how you create the conditions for ideas to arrive.
What Softening Looks Like in Practice
Let’s get practical for a moment.
The next time you notice yourself stuck in overthinking mode: forcing, straining, mentally exhausting yourself: try this:
Step 1: Notice you’re doing it.
Just name it. “I’m trying to think my way through this.” No judgment. Just awareness.
Step 2: Close the laptop. Put down the pen.
Literally. Step away from the thing you’re trying to force.
Step 3: Do one monotonous task for 15 minutes.
Dishes. A walk around the block. Making tea slowly and intentionally. Something that requires just enough focus to quiet the mental noise but not so much that you’re still “trying.”
Step 4: Notice what arrives.
Not with expectation. Just with gentle curiosity. Sometimes an idea lands. Sometimes it doesn’t. Either way, you’ve given your nervous system a break.
Step 5: When you return, write or create without editing.
Even if it feels messy or imperfect. Let it be rough. Let it be exploratory. Let it be something instead of the perfect thing your overthinking brain was demanding.
This isn’t about never thinking or never applying focused effort. It’s about recognizing when effort has tipped into force, and choosing softness instead.
The Deeper Pattern Beneath the Block
Here’s what I’ve noticed working with creative, thoughtful people like you:
The creative block often isn’t really about the creative work.
It’s about what creating represents. The vulnerability of being seen. The risk of being judged. The fear that if you show up fully, you’ll be too much or not enough.
So your brain does what it thinks is helpful: it keeps you stuck in analysis. It convinces you that if you just think harder, plan better, get clearer: then you’ll be ready.
But “ready” never comes.
Because the block isn’t about readiness. It’s about trust.
Trust in yourself. Trust in your voice. Trust that what wants to move through you is worth sharing, even if it’s imperfect.
You can’t think your way into that trust. You have to feel your way into it.
And feeling requires softness. Space. The willingness to be with uncertainty without needing to solve it immediately.
Ready to Unfold?
If you want to stop overthinking and start creating from a place of self-trust, this is exactly what we explore together inside my Unfold Sessions.
It’s a soft, 1:1 space for reflection and reconnection—a place to quiet the noise and hear your own voice again. We’ll look at what’s in the way of your expression and gently loosen its hold, so you can bring your vision to life in a way that feels grounded and completely yours.
You can read more about how it works here or, if you’re ready to dive in, you can book your Unfold Session here.
With much love,
Maria
https://mariaduckhouse.com | Let’s connect on Instagram
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