Stop Chasing the Unicorn

Creative inspiration is like a sparkly, elusive unicorn.

We’re always chasing it—hoping it will lock eyes with us, gaze into our weary souls, and bless us with a rainbow vomit of divine insight so we can make something brilliant.

And sometimes, just sometimes, we catch a glimpse. Maybe we manage to grab its tail as it prances by. But it’s slippery. Fleeting. And before we know it, all we’re left with is a glittery puff of “almost.”

It’s maddening. It feels like we need that unicorn to do our best work. Without it, how could anything we make possibly be good?

But here’s the catch: the more desperately we chase it—trying to leap on its back and ride it into a magical creative zone—the faster it runs.

So instead of chasing, you sit down. You create anyway. No sparkles. No rainbows. Just you and the work. And it’s… awkward at first. A little clunky. The magic’s not there yet. But you keep going.

And something curious happens.

The unicorn notices.

Annoyed, maybe. Offended you’re not fawning over it. But intrigued. It trots closer. Peeks over your shoulder. Flicks a glittery ear.

Before you know it, the ambient sparkles start clinging to your hair. You catch a whiff of rainbow breath in your lungs. And you're still working—deeply, fully immersed—not even looking up to see that the unicorn has plopped down right beside you.

Because here’s the secret: inspiration doesn’t come before the work. It comes because of the work.

You didn’t wait. You didn’t chase. You reclaimed your creative power.
And that’s precisely when the unicorn decides it wants to stick around.