I didn’t want to write this article.

I had done plenty of creative work this week. I spent hours shaping my presentation for the ProductX conference, polishing the storyline, the examples, the flow. By the time I got to my weekly writing slot at the end of the week, I had nothing left. No energy, no clarity, no desire to create one more thing.

And still, here you are, reading this article. Which means I had to find a way through it.

It made me realize how relevant this moment is to so much of our work as product people. We like to think of creative work as something artistic, something for designers or content creators. But our most important product work is also creative work. Crafting a strategy. Building a roadmap that actually says something. Preparing a presentation that tells the story behind the numbers. Figuring out a complex problem that has no obvious solution. All of these require us to create something new, not just execute.

And this kind of work depends on clarity, energy, and mental space, which means that sometimes we simply get stuck.

So this article is about what to do when that happens. How to move forward when the work in front of you requires creativity, and your mind feels completely empty.

It’s not a break, it’s processing time

Taking a break is the easiest advice to give and the hardest to accept. Because what if you can’t afford a break? What if the deadline is tight, the presentation is tomorrow, or the roadmap discussion is in two hours? It feels irresponsible to step away when the work isn’t done.

But a break is not wasted time. It is thinking and processing time.

Your brain often needs space before it can give you clarity. Feeding it with the right kind of input is part of the work. A short walk, a quiet moment outside, even closing your laptop and breathing for a few minutes, can help you sort your thoughts and find the angle you couldn’t see before. You don’t have to build anything during that time. You are simply giving your mind the conditions it needs to produce the answer later.

And here’s the surprising part. When you do this intentionally, you actually converge faster. You return to the work with focus, direction, and a sense of what matters. It is not a delay. It is an investment that pays off exactly when you need it.

Do what makes you feel good

Creative work flows much faster when you start from a place that feels good. Every task, no matter how heavy or complex, has at least one element you genuinely enjoy. Find that part and begin there. For me, choosing photos for a presentation is always fun. It brings energy and personality into the work, and it is lighter than shaping every sentence until it is perfect. For someone else, it might be sketching a diagram, writing the opening story, or thinking about the moment that will make the audience laugh.

Location works the same way. If sitting in the park makes you feel calmer or more open, do the work there. If a café gives you momentum, go there. Your environment can shift your mood instantly, and mood is a real input to creative work.

This is not about procrastinating or avoiding the harder parts. It is about starting from the piece that lifts you up. When the work begins with something that feels good, everything else becomes easier to approach. Feeling good creates motion, and motion is what gets you unstuck.

Just do it

At some point, you have to stop thinking about the work and start doing the work. Not perfectly. Not completely. Just enough to give your brain something to react to.

Only so much creative work can emerge from sitting and trying to think your way to the final answer. It emerges from making an attempt, seeing what happens, and shaping what you see. Your first version doesn’t have to be good. It doesn’t even have to make sense. It just needs to exist so you have something to work with.

When I worked on my monodrama, I had to produce a new part every week for three months. I didn’t always have great ideas. Many drafts never made it into the final show. But every messy attempt created movement. A bad idea triggered a different idea, which inspired a moment that finally did belong on stage. There is no way I could have reached the end result by trying to imagine it perfectly in my head.

This is how all creative product work works. Draft the strategy badly. Sketch the roadmap messily. Build slides you’ll later delete. Rehearse the pitch even if it feels half-baked. The clarity comes from doing. You only know what needs to change once something is already out in the world, even if the only person who sees it is you.

Creative work is rarely a straight line. Some days you have energy, some days you don’t. Some ideas arrive fully formed, others need time, movement, or a lighter entry point. And often, the only way forward is to start before you feel ready and let the work evolve from there. When you understand what your brain needs in each moment, you stop fighting the stuckness and start navigating through it. Your spark will show up.