Stuck in a Creative Rut? Change THIS and Watch Your Songs Flow

I remember sitting in my usual spot last winter, staring at a blank piece of paper, my favorite pen in hand, and… nothing. The same four walls, the same cup of coffee, the same time of day. And the same empty page that had been staring back at me for weeks.

It’s funny how we create these little songwriting rituals, isn’t it? That specific chair at that specific coffee shop. The particular notebook that’s supposed to contain all your brilliant ideas. The precise time of day when inspiration is “supposed” to strike.

But what if these comfortable routines are actually the very thing suffocating our creativity?

How Routine Can Kill Creativity

I’ve often heard songwriters who’ve been writing for a long time say, “The moment you start feeling completely comfortable with your creative process is the moment you should worry.”

I didn’t understand what that meant at first. After all, isn’t routine what helps us stay disciplined? Isn’t showing up at the same time, in the same place, with the same tools how professionals get things done?

Yes and no.

There’s something about familiarity that lulls our brains to sleep. That coffee shop where you always write? Those four walls have stopped inspiring you. That specific time of day when you “feel most creative”? Your brain is on autopilot. That particular guitar you always reach for? It’s playing the same patterns your fingers have memorized.

I realized this last month when I accidentally left my songwriting notebook at home. Desperate to capture an idea, I grabbed an old receipt from my pocket and started writing on it. Something about the change—the unfamiliar texture of thermal paper, the cramped space forcing me to write differently—sparked something. I wrote three verses and a chorus in fifteen minutes.

The Brain Science of Creativity and Novelty

I was curious about why this happened, so I started reading about creativity and the brain. Turns out, our brains crave novelty. It’s how we’re wired.

When we experience something new—a different writing spot, an unfamiliar instrument, even a new pen—our brains release chemicals like dopamine that make us more alert, more receptive to new ideas. It’s like our mental antennae suddenly extend, picking up signals that were always there but we’d tuned out.

I read an interview with a songwriter who’d composed most of an album while sitting in waiting rooms—doctor’s offices, oil changes, anywhere they had to wait. “There’s something about being slightly uncomfortable that makes me write differently,” they said.

I think they’re onto something profound there.

Proven Ways to Shake Up Your Routine

Last week, I decided to try breaking my own patterns. Instead of writing at my desk in the morning with my usual guitar, I grabbed my ukulele (which I hasn’t played in years) and sat on my back porch at dusk. The sun was setting, casting long shadows across the yard, and my clumsy fingers found chord shapes I’d never use on guitar.

I wrote a song that night that feels nothing like my usual work. It has a haunting quality I didn’t know I could create.

Here are some other pattern-breakers I’ve been experimenting with:

I took a notebook to the local diner and wrote between bites of breakfast. The background chatter, the clinking of plates, the interruptions from the waitress—all of it created a strange, productive energy.

I set my alarm for 5 AM one day (I’m usually a night owl) and wrote lyrics in that foggy, half-awake state. The images that came were unlike anything I’d written before.

I tried writing a song using only the black keys on the piano—an instrument I’m not fluent in. The limitations forced me to think melodically in ways my guitar-trained fingers never would.

Each of these experiments felt slightly awkward, slightly uncomfortable. And that’s exactly the point.

What Happens When You Break the Pattern? Surprising Case Studies

Remember when Jack White wrote those White Stripes albums in a room with no computer, just a four-track recorder, a basic drum kit, and a guitar? Or when Justin Vernon (Bon Iver) retreated to a cabin in the woods to write “For Emma, Forever Ago”? These weren’t just marketing stories; they were deliberate pattern-breaks.

My friend Jerry told me about how he wrote his best album while touring, couch-surfing between friends’ apartments. “I had nothing but a backpack and my guitar,” he said. “No routine, no comfort zone. Just different rooms every few days and whatever emotions came with them.”

A few years ago I wrote an entire album’s worth of songs using nothing but my iPad, in my car, on my lunch breaks. Not using my go-to instrument, my guitar, made me focus musically on every note I was creating.

What all these stories have in common is disruption. These songwriters, whether consciously or by circumstance, found themselves outside their normal patterns. And that’s where the magic happened.

Small Habit Changes = Big Songwriting Results

The good news is, you don’t have to move to a cabin in the woods or give up your apartment to shake things up. Small changes can create big ripples in your creative process.

Last month, I started keeping a guitar in my car. During lunch breaks, I’d sit in the parking lot and play for 15 minutes. Something about the confined space, the different acoustics, the time constraint—it led to a song I’ve been trying to write for months.

My friend Mark switched from writing on his computer to writing with pen and paper. “My handwriting is terrible,” he laughed, “but something about the physical act of writing slows me down just enough to think differently.”

Another songwriter friend started using a random word generator app. Whatever word it gave her, she had to include in her song. “Some days I get ‘melancholy’—easy enough. Other days I get ‘refrigerator’ and have to get creative,” she said. Her latest album is the best work she’s done.

These are tiny changes, but they create just enough friction to wake up your brain.

Challenge: Try a New Routine for One Week and Track Your Creativity

This weekend, I’m challenging myself to write in a completely different environment each day. Saturday morning, I’m heading to the park. Saturday evening, I’m going to try writing in my car during sunset. Sunday, I might try the local library.

Want to join me? Here’s a simple one-week challenge:

Day 1: Write somewhere you’ve never written before
Day 2: Write at a time you normally wouldn’t
Day 3: Use an instrument you’re not comfortable with
Day 4: Set a strange limitation (like “only write about colors” or “no rhyming”)
Day 5: Start with the ending of the song
Day 6: Write immediately after physical exercise
Day 7: Combine your favorite two new methods

Keep track of what happens. How many ideas did you generate? How do you feel about what you created? How long did it take before you felt “in the flow”?

I’ve been doing this for three weeks now, and I’ve written more in this time than I did in the previous three months combined.

How to Make Routine Shifts a Long-Term Creativity Hack

There’s something about unabashedly trying new approaches that sparks something deep inside. The connection that we have with our creativity reaches into places we didn’t know existed and creates a sense of true joy.

Last night, I was talking with my wife about all this. We were sitting on the couch, enjoying a rare quiet moment, and I was telling her about how changing my writing habits had opened up something new in my music.

“It’s like those mixtapes we used to make,” she said. “Remember how we’d spend hours picking just the right songs, making sure they flowed perfectly? There was an art to it.”

She’s right. Like those mixtapes, creativity requires intention and surprise. It requires breaking patterns and creating new ones.

So here’s what I’m doing to keep the creative momentum going:

I’ve created a jar filled with slips of paper, each with a different writing prompt or location. When I feel stuck, I draw one at random.

I’ve started scheduling “weird writing days” on my calendar—days where I intentionally break every creative habit I have.

Most importantly, I’m learning to notice when I’m getting too comfortable. When my writing starts to sound like everything else I’ve written, I know it’s time to shake things up.

Music is a part of us, it makes us feel, it sometimes says the thing we didn’t know how to say. But to keep saying new things, we have to keep experiencing new things—even in small ways.

I encourage you, at some point this weekend, to write a song in a way you never have before. Grab that instrument you barely play, sit somewhere unfamiliar, write at a strange hour. It would do us all some good to step outside our comfort zones and see what we find there.

Your next great song is waiting for you. It’s just not where you’ve been looking.

What writing habits have you been stuck in? What small change could you make today? Share in the comments below—I’d love to hear your thoughts and experiences.