Why I spent 11 minutes organizing toothpicks

Last month, I had dinner with Jon "Jags" Nee—the cinematic genius behind the making-of videos for Raven's Hollow, as well as the host of this interview from last month:

Jon had just flown back from a month-long trip in Croatia, bringing with him incredible olive oil, a homemade focaccia, and countless stories to rekindle my travel-loving spirit.

After he left, I quickly set to cleaning up the remainder of our charcuterie assortment so my wife and I could spend time together.

As I cleaned, I found myself lost in thought reminiscing over Jon's many stories, until suddenly...

My hand knocked over the toothpick jar, spreading hundreds of them loudly across the table.

I paused in shock. My face flush with irritation.
I was just about to relax.

Rushing to the opposite end of the table, I opened my arm wide, preparing to pull them into my hand in one long swoop...

...but I stopped myself.

See, earlier that morning I'd been listening to a Headspace meditation on patience.
In it, the guide had encouraged the listener to notice when impatience rises in the body instead of trying to change it.

So, rather than rush through this task, I paused—allowing myself to experience my tightened chest, shallowed breaths, and racing thoughts before acting.

Then...

I picked up one toothpick, thread it carefully through the tiny hole in the toothpick container, and repeated—one by one.

I kept my focused directed on my breath.
I stayed curious about this strange task I was engaging in.

And then—something interesting happened.

The impatience dissipated.

Soon, counting toothpicks didn't feel like a chore.
It felt like a dreamy ritual—neither exciting nor boring.
While counting toothpicks, I had entered flow state.

So why am I sharing this with you?

I've been making music for over two decades now.

(Yes—that's me. 😂)

Over those 20+ years, I've explored countless ways to improve my craft, build creative rituals, and deepen my own artistic voice—as well as helped hundres of other composers do the same through community and mentorship.

But after all this time, I've realized that the most important skill to develop isn't discipline or speed.

The most important skill you can develop as an artist is patience.

Patience is what allows you to enter flow state when you sit down to create.
Patience is what helps you to finish ideas instead of abandoning them.
Patience is what yields opportunity as a creative professional.

Without patience, art never gets finished—and artists never endure.

So...

The next time you're creating art and find impatience beginning to rise within you, ask yourself:

"What would it look like to stay curious about this feeling instead of fighting it?"

Don't judge it.
Don't push it away.
And don't try to "solve" it.

Simply notice it—and observe what the noticing changes in you.

That's all for this week.

Stay creative (and curious). 🎶
—Zach

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