What a Coaster Taught Me About Creativity
I set my coffee down the other day and my wife slid a coaster underneath.
"It protects the wood," she said.
I nodded. Then I got curious.
Thirty minutes later, I'd learned that some wood finishes don't actually need coasters. Certain countertops can handle hot pots directly. There's a whole world of heat-resistant materials I never knew existed.
I felt weirdly satisfied. Then I felt weirdly guilty.
Because what did I actually do with that information? Nothing. I wasn't going to correct my wife. I wasn't going to rip out our countertops. The research led nowhere.
Or did it?
Why We Feel Guilty About Curiosity
We live in a world obsessed with outcomes. Productivity. ROI on everything, including our attention.
So when we spend an hour learning about coaster materials or rabbit-holing through Wikipedia or wondering how something works — and it doesn't lead to a deliverable — we feel like we wasted time.
I do this constantly. I'll research something for an hour, learn a ton, and then think: What was the point of that?
How Old Problems Create New Materials
Here's what I realized while feeling guilty about my coaster research:
Someone, somewhere, was curious about the exact same thing. And they invented a countertop that doesn't need protection.
That's how everything gets made.
Curiosity that seems pointless is the raw material of innovation. The person who invented the coaster-proof surface didn't start with a business plan. They started with a question: Why do we even need coasters?
Old problems create new solutions. But only if someone gets curious enough to poke at the problem first.
How This Shows Up in Writing, Business, and Life
I see this pattern everywhere now.
In writing: The random research tangent that doesn't fit your current project? It might be the seed of your next one. Every novelist I know has a folder of "useless" research that eventually becomes essential.
In business: The side question you explored instead of staying on task? That's often where the real insight hides. The best product ideas come from noticing something odd and following the thread.
In life: The afternoon you "wasted" learning about something that has no practical application? You just added another connection to your brain. Creativity is connecting dots. You can't connect dots you don't have.
The World Runs on Curiosity and Problems
Think about it. Every invention started with someone asking a dumb question.
Why do we need candles? (Lightbulb.)
Why do we need horses? (Car.)
Why do we need coasters? (Heat-resistant surfaces.)
The world spins on curiosity. Problems are just invitations to get curious.
So that research rabbit hole you fell into last Tuesday? The one that led nowhere? It wasn't wasted. It was practice. It was collecting dots. It was keeping your curiosity muscle strong.
There's No Wasted Work
Here's what I'm learning to believe: there's no such thing as wasted curiosity.
Not every question leads to an answer. Not every thread leads to a breakthrough. But the habit of pulling threads — that's everything.
The person who stops asking questions stops creating.
So be easier on yourself. That hour you spent learning about something "useless"? You were doing exactly what creators do. You were staying curious.
Try This Today
Follow one curiosity thread without worrying about the outcome. Give yourself permission to research something just because you want to know.
No deliverable required. No guilt allowed.
See where it leads. Or doesn't. Either way, you're practicing the thing that makes new ideas possible.
What's the last rabbit hole you felt guilty about?