The Trailhead #12
Boredom, the Towpath, and the Creative Mind
One of the most important tools in my creative process—both as a designer and as a novelist—is something that many people try to eliminate. Boredom! In a world where we can eliminate every idle moment with a quick scroll, a podcast, or a notification, boredom has become almost taboo. But over time, I’ve come to see boredom not as a problem to solve, but as a condition that enables creativity.
I explored this idea recently in a column for UXmatters, titled Embracing Boredom. In that article, I wrote:
“When we eliminate boredom entirely, we also eliminate the mental space where reflection, synthesis, and creative insight occur.”
— from Embracing Boredom, UXmatters
That insight applies not only to design work, but to storytelling, and it’s shaped how I think.
Where Boredom Meets Creativity
For me, boredom isn’t something that happens accidentally. It’s something I deliberately cultivate (well, try to). One of my favorite ways to do this is what some people jokingly call “raw dogging it”—leaving the headphones at home, putting the phone away, and just walking. I do this frequently in the Cuyahoga Valley National Park and throughout the Cleveland Metroparks and Summit Metro Parks systems. These landscapes—river valleys, wooded trails, and long stretches of towpath—are where I simply allow my mind to wander without constant input. Try it out:
No podcasts.
No music.
No scrolling.
Just the trail.
This kind of “nature bathing” creates the mental quiet where ideas begin to surface.
The Towpath Was Born on the Towpath
Those quiet walks did more than spark ideas. They shaped the entire world of The Towpath. The story is set in the same environments I walk through regularly: along the historic canal corridor, through the forests, and across the landscapes of Northeast Ohio. Many scenes were imagined while walking the very places where the story unfolds. And I admit, I might have used technology once or twice to snag a photo of a spot that I wanted to reference later or put into words. But, in that sense, the book isn’t just inspired by the environment. It was built within it.
When you spend enough time in a place without distractions, you start to notice things:
The rhythm of the river.
The silence between birds.
The way fog hangs in the valley in early morning.
These sensory details gradually form the texture of a story world. But they don’t appear when your mind is saturated with constant stimulation. They appear when the brain shifts into what psychologists often call diffuse thinking mode, the mental state where ideas connect more freely.
Why This Matters for Designers Too
While The Towpath came from those walks, the same principle applies to design work. In my UXmatters column, I discussed how constant stimulation can suppress the kind of thinking required for deeper problem solving:
“When our attention is constantly captured by notifications and media, our brains remain in a state of focused consumption rather than reflective thought.”
— from Embracing Boredom, UXmatters
Design problems often require stepping back from the screen. Just as writers need space to imagine characters and plots, designers need space to synthesize information and see patterns. The most elegant design solutions often emerge after stepping away from the interface entirely.
The Value of Diffuse Thinking
When we step away from constant inputs, our brains shift gears. Instead of focusing narrowly on tasks, the mind begins connecting ideas across memory and experience. This is when unexpected insights occur. For writers, that might look like:
discovering a character’s motivation
solving a plot problem
imagining a new scene
For designers, it might mean:
recognizing a usability pattern
reframing a user problem
seeing a simpler system architecture
But these moments rarely happen when our attention is fragmented. They happen when our minds are allowed to wander. For me, those quiet walks through Cuyahoga Valley National Park and the surrounding park systems remain a wellspring of ideas. They shaped The Towpath, and they continue to shape the stories and ideas that will build upon it (much to come in the works!). In many ways, the lesson is simple: Creativity doesn’t always come from adding more input. Sometimes it comes from removing it.
Not every moment needs to be productive. Some of your best ideas will come from moments that appear unproductive. If you’re interested in the design perspective behind this idea, you can read the full column and get some practical tips:
STAY IN TOUCH
Let’s stay connected. Here’s where else to connect with The Towpath and its author (yours truly):
For more on The Towpath:
