When Ideas Come Crashing In: Navigating the Creative Tidal Wave

Two weekends ago, I went to the beach and my brain started doing that thing again. You know: when an idea starts bubbling up and suddenly I want to drop everything and just play with it. 

And that’s basically how I spent all of last week—knee deep in a potential wedding business (I did not see that coming!). 

And it was glorious. I haven’t felt this energized in a llooonnnnggggg time.

But…

Last week was a holiday week and business was slow. 

This week though? This week, I should be working on client books. There are deadlines. There are people counting on me. There’s that whole “keeping the lights on” thing that requires my attention.

Man, though, this wedding business idea? It’s calling to me like a siren song, and I’m sitting here feeling so torn… 

…Between creative energy and practical energy. The open, curious headspace that creativity demands feels fundamentally different from the focused, execution-oriented mindset I need for client work.

…Between the fear of losing momentum and the fear of letting people down. What if I don’t capture this creative energy while it’s flowing? But also, what if I disappoint clients by getting distracted?

…Between wanting to honor my creative impulses and wanting to be a responsible business owner. Lil’ Emi’s voice in my head says “follow your passion!” and Maude says “passion doesn’t pay your bills!” 

If you’re writing a book, you probably know this feeling too. That moment when creativity strikes like lightning, and suddenly your carefully planned day goes out the window because your brain has latched onto something shiny and new. It’s exhilarating and frustrating at the same time.

Some might say solving this dilemma is about finding balance—not exactly “work-life” balance, but something like “visionary-executor” balance. And I can be really good at compartmentalizing. 

But this moment is calling for something a little messier. “Balance” feels way too neat and tidy when we’re dealing with a creative tidal wave. Still, there’s got to be something—some kind of flow between the work that pays the bills and the work that feeds your soul, right? 

Right? Please tell me I’m right.

When the Floodgates Open

Here’s what I’ve noticed: creativity doesn’t follow a schedule. Ideas don’t politely knock on your door at 2pm on a Tuesday when you’ve blocked out “time to write.” They come crashing in when you’re in the middle of prepping for a client workshop or updating your invoicing system.

And if you’re a Projector like me (here’s a Human Design rabbit hole for you)? Well, that just adds another layer of complexity to the whole thing. I can feel the energy of an idea pulling at me, but I also know I can’t sustain that level of intensity indefinitely. It’s like being handed the keys to a McLaren F1, when you don’t know how to drive a stick. You don’t want to burn out the clutch.

I wrote my book in 2023 during two months when client work was slow. During that time, creativity happened to flow into the cracks and crevices of my business. But that’s not always the case. Sometimes creativity shows up when you’re already at capacity, demanding attention you don’t have to give.

The Overwhelm Is Real

A friend of mine was telling me about this exact struggle last week. The work that pays her bills is work she does in someone else’s business. She’s brilliant at her work, but by the end of the day, she’s so drained that creativity feels like a distant memory. The well has run dry, and she’s left wondering where her creative spark went.

I get it. 

There’s something about the energy that creative work demands—that open, curious, playful energy—that feels fundamentally different from the energy required to execute tasks and meet deadlines, especially when you’re working for someone else. 

It’s like the difference between lightning and a lightning bug. Creative energy strikes with brilliant, unpredictable intensity, while practical work requires the steady, reliable glow of getting things done. Both create light, but they’re completely different phenomena. And they don’t always play nicely together.

And then there’s the other side of the coin: when you’re in that creative flow state, EVERYTHING feels possible. Ideas for your book start coming through, but so do ideas for your business, your marketing, your next project. Creativity begets creativity, but then you’re drowning in possibilities with no clear way to navigate them all (or at least, that’s my experience).

Questions Instead of Answers

I wish I had some magic formula to offer you here, some neat, brilliant, little system that would wrap everything up with a bow. But I don’t. What I have instead are questions—the kind of questions I ask myself when I’m in this headspace.

What needs to get done today? Not this week or this month, but today. Can I focus on getting one “responsible” thing off of my plate, so I can get back to playing with my idea?

When can I give myself permission to play? Maybe it’s not right now, but maybe it’s tonight after dinner. Or this weekend. Or next Tuesday afternoon. Creativity deserves a seat at the table, even if it’s not the head of the table every time.

What would happen if I captured this idea quickly and came back to it later? Sometimes the fear is that we’ll lose the idea if we don’t act on it immediately. But what if we just needed to honor it long enough to write it down?

Is this idea trying to tell me something about my business? When creativity comes knocking, it’s often because there’s something we need to pay attention to. Maybe the idea isn’t just about a creative project—maybe it’s pointing toward something missing in our current work.

The Symbiotic Dance

In the past week, I’ve been trying really hard to believe that creativity and business don’t have to be enemies. They can actually feed each other in surprising ways. When I’m working on something creative, I often stumble onto ideas that make my business better. When I’m deep in client work, I sometimes discover approaches that spark new creative projects.

The trick isn’t to keep them separate—it’s to find ways to let them dance together without letting one completely hijack the other.

Maybe it’s as simple as having a designated place to capture creative ideas when they arise during business hours. 

Maybe it’s scheduling regular creative dates with yourself, so that part of you knows it will get attention. 

Maybe it’s being honest about which projects actually deserve to be pursued and which ones are just your brain’s way of procrastinating.

I don’t have this figured out. Most days, I’m still fumbling around, trying to honor both the practical and the creative sides of what I do. But I’m starting to think that the fumbling itself might be part of the process.

Maybe the goal isn’t to eliminate the tension between creativity and responsibility. Maybe it’s to get better at dancing with it.

Final Thoughts

If you’re reading this and nodding along, know that you’re not alone in this struggle. The fact that you care enough to feel torn between your creative impulses and your responsibilities? That’s not a bug—it’s a feature. It means you’re someone who takes both seriously.

The ideas will keep coming. That’s the beautiful, maddening reality of being a creative person trying to run a business. But maybe, with the right questions and a little practice, we can get better at making space for both.

What questions do you ask yourself when creativity comes knocking at the worst possible time? I’d love to hear how you navigate this dance because I have a feeling we’re all still learning the steps.

Image by Wirestock on Freepik.