Overthinking Again? What If You Treated This Like an Experiment?

Overthinking Again?  What If You Treated This Like an Experiment?

This is the fourth post in my series, Creativity in Real Life—exploring creativity not as talent or performance, but as a practical skill for everyday living.

So far, we’ve explored creativity as a durable life skill… a way forward when we feel stuck… and a way to find clarity in uncertain seasons.

This week, we’re looking at another place creativity matters deeply: when we feel pressure to figure everything out before we begin.

Sometimes creativity looks like experimentation—trying something small, learning something real, and adjusting as we go.

Some seasons of life make every decision feel bigger than it is.

Should I stay where I am… or make a change?

Should I finally start the thing I keep thinking about?

Should I speak up?

Should I say no?

Should I create a new routine?

Should I trust this nudge… or ignore it?

When we care deeply, even small decisions can start to feel enormous.

So we think.

And rethink.

And overthink.

We wait for certainty. We look for signs. We try to map the whole path before taking the first step.

And often, we stay stuck.

But what if the next step doesn’t need to be a final answer?

What if it could simply be an experiment?

What Real-Life Creativity Actually Looks Like

One of the biggest myths about creativity is that it belongs to artists, entrepreneurs, or people with sticky notes, color-coded markers and endless ideas.

But in real life, creativity is often much less glamorous.

It looks like noticing something isn’t working.

Getting curious about what might help.

Trying something imperfect.

Learning from what happened.

Adjusting and trying again.

That’s creativity too.

Not performance.

Process.

Not magic.

Method.

Not one brilliant leap.

A series of smaller steps.

My Resistance to the “Ideal Week”

When I started my business, I suddenly had a kind of freedom I hadn’t had before.

I could set my own hours.

Shape my own days.

Build work around the life I wanted.

Sounds wonderful, right?

It was also a little chaotic.

I wanted to be available for clients. Available for family. Available for whatever came up. Which often meant the important behind-the-scenes work—writing, planning, creating, preparing—kept getting pushed aside.

Then I’d find myself spending beautiful summer weekends inside at my desk, writing a blog or building a presentation I could have done during the week.

Meanwhile, people kept talking about creating an “ideal week.”

Honestly? I wasn’t interested.

It sounded like too much pressure:  IDEAL.  

Plus, I really didn’t know what I wanted my week to look like.  So I told myself I’d create an ideal week someday… once I had already figured everything out.

(Yes, I can hear the backward logic now too.)

One Tiny Thing to Try

Eventually, the chaos became more exhausting than experimenting.

And I was tempted to give in to my usual all-or-nothing tendency and ask: 

How do I completely overhaul my schedule, become a disciplined calendar wizard, and transform my life by next Tuesday?

But instead, I pulled a better question from my creativity toolbox:

What’s one tiny thing I could try?

My answer was simple:

Block time each week to write my blog.

Not forever.

Not perfectly.

Not in a color-coded spreadsheet worthy of admiration.

Just as a test.

And when the annoying little gremlin in my head said, “But what if you don’t feel like writing on Tuesday morning?”

I told him calmly that Tuesday-morning me could deal with Tuesday-morning problems.

If I wrote then, great.

If I didn’t, I could move the block to another time.

There was choice.

But now there was also awareness. Intention. Responsibility.

What the Experiment Taught Me

Was it perfect?

Absolutely not.

Some weeks I wrote during that block.

Some weeks I moved it.

Some weeks I ignored it… and ended up back at my desk on the weekend.

Lesson learned.

That messy experiment taught me what thinking alone could not.

So I started experimenting with other tasks and projects too.  

And the cycle continued.  

Eventually, I realized that I was living into an “ideal week.”  But since nothing ever feels ideal, I started calling it a weekly template—which felt kinder, lighter, and more realistic.

I adjusted blocks.

Moved things around.

Changed expectations.

Paid attention to energy.

Over time, I built something useful.

Not because I got it right the first time.

Because I kept refining it.

This Is How Real-Life Creativity Works

People sometimes imagine creativity as one brilliant idea that changes everything.

But much of deliberate creativity works like this:

Clarify the real problem.

Come up with an idea.

Try it in real life.

Notice what happened.

Adjust and begin again.

That’s not failure.

That’s iteration.

Too many people quit after the first attempt because it wasn’t magical.

But progress is often built in loops, not straight lines.

Try. Learn. Tweak. Repeat.

Be Curious, Not Critical

When something doesn’t work immediately, many thoughtful women become critics instead of investigators.

See? I knew this wouldn’t work.

I’m terrible at routines.

I never follow through.

Why did I even try?

But experiments are meant to produce learning, not loathing.

So instead of criticism, what if you chose curiosity?

• What helped? 

• What got in the way? 

• What needs adjusting? 

• What did this reveal about what I need? 

• What’s the next smaller version to try? 

That shift alone can change everything.

Maybe Your Version Isn’t a Calendar

Maybe your experiment has nothing to do with scheduling.

Maybe it looks like:

Trying a healthier boundary.

Drafting the idea before you feel ready.

Taking one class.

Exploring a side project.

Asking for help.

Creating one hour of breathing room in your week.

Saying no once and surviving.

You do not need to commit forever.

You only need enough courage to gather information.

I’ve Built My Business This Way

A couple weeks from now, I’ll celebrate four years in business.

I did not begin with a flawless five-year plan.

I began with notes, experiences, ideas, instincts, and a willingness to learn.

I tracked the work I’d done. Paid attention to what energized me. Said yes to opportunities that could teach me something.

Over four years, I’ve continued to build this business experiment by experiment.

Big things are often built one experiment at a time.

Faith Doesn’t Require Certainty

Sometimes we treat life like a test we’re supposed to pass.

Choose correctly.

Perform well.

Avoid mistakes.

But life with God seems to work differently.

Less like a test.

More like a relationship.

We are rarely handed the whole map.

Instead, we’re invited to take the next faithful step—trusting grace will meet us there.

Grace is not a reward for getting it right.

Grace is present in every step, every experiment, every learning. 

Before You Overthink It Again

What if the thing you’ve been overthinking doesn’t need a final answer yet?

What if it needs one small experiment?

Try something.

Notice something.

Learn something.

Then begin again.

Because imperfect action beats perfect inaction every day.

And clarity often comes after movement—not before it.

Next week in Creativity in Real Life, I’ll explore another place creativity matters deeply: play.

Because when life becomes all function, duty, and responsibility… we often lose something essential.

Joy. Wonder. Energy. Aliveness.

And sometimes the most productive thing we can do is become more fully alive again.

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