First thing to do when under pressure, prescribes guru Don Draper is abuse whoever can help you. Then take a nap. Not sure I’d go that way, although the nap may come in handy. Way better than a Youtube binge.

Let’s not fake it in here, I know exactly why “I don’t know where to start” looks like: going through the luggage section of your online trap of choice just to see what’s on, when you don’t need new stuff. Scrolling down on Facebook on autopilot, your hand chain-feeding sesame crackers to your mouth. Before you know it, it’s been an hour. Taking 5 to reply to a quick email that’s really, really, oh, so urgent, generally takes 30.

I tell you, it’s like looking for shampoo in the fridge. Inspiration doesn’t live there. I have a few go tos instead. I treasure hunted through some of the finest minds around and gave them a try. Here’s what I got:

1. Tune in

Let’s just assume that whatever is doing the creating (the ear your daemon whispers into, your brain, your heart or whatever you think it be) is an instrument. A state of the art thing, but still an instrument. You will need to brush it up, oil the joints so that when you push the on button, it starts churning. That’s why you need The Morning Pages.

To cut a long story short, every morning, as soon as you get up, you start handwriting whatever crosses your mind for 20 minutes (about 3 pages). Give it a few weeks before you’ll catch yourself plunging into big work without the water-is-wet diva attitude.

I could go on for hours about this. Here’s what made me do it when I read about it in Tim Ferriss’s book: Brian Koppelman, the guy who recommended it, a great film producer and podcaster, by the way, said he’d give Julia Cameron’s book to 100 people. Out of 100, 10 would open it. Out of 10, 7 would go on to have TV and movies made, books published, and made out successful.

(I do not get a commission off this. But when you find something you love, can you shut up?)

2. Get rhythm and stick to it

Call me crazy, but whatever work I do has a vibe. Mix in the client’s, the project’s and mine, and you get a flavour. Not for a second do I pretend to be able to control it. But what works, works.

So let’s just say I noticed that every-time I need to dive deep for a tagline, for instance, some song will just land in my player. I go for it on repeat again, and again, and again. It gets my writing machine going like no other.

I just did a tech launch. I swam in White Snake’s Sailing ships for days. I switched to Johnny Cash afterwards. Pink does it for me, too. I dare not disturb the Universe with a why, I just get on and say thank you. Hail to the masters!

3. Go for a quickie with Greatness

It can be anything, as long as it’s really well made. Expose yourself to great work, there’s nothing like it to get your creating ducks in order and ready to march.

Youtube comes handy here for shorts (The Nerdwriter is a good option). So does Nowness, but it can be a podcast, comics or the series you’re binging at the moment.

It needs to get you in a state. It needs to make you see the wave and jump on it. Because, my friend, we are as good as the wave we get on. And when we catch one, we’d better make the most of it.

4. Meditate for 9 minutes. Everyday.

Sorry, buddy. That’s how it works. I didn’t make the rule, I’m just telling you what did it for me. Make it 15 or 20 if you can. But 9 is the minimum. Brace yourself for clear-headedness.

5. Ask the question, if you can stomach the answer

I learned about the I Ching when I was in high school. It’s my go to for major (strategy) questions. Not for everyone, though.

You may have to wrap your mind around taoist metaphors. Like figuring out what “it’s beneficial to cross great rivers. It’s beneficial to have a place to go” could mean (that was an easy one). So I make sure I only toss the coins if I do have a question. Think of it as a meet up with the wise. Don’t trouble them for what you already know.

But if you’re hardcore, here’s another: my friend Monica gifted me her tarot deck. It’s bring-it-on, is-this-for-real accurate. She devised an entire creative journey around it. Her book tells you all about it here.

Most of all, sit down and start.

I’m not being a smart ass, promise. I just read “things are not hard to do. What’s hard is switching gears to creation mode” and I thought you should know, too. Brancusi the sculptor said it, and he should know. I also personally heard one of the greatest painters alive I know say he sometimes doubted himself. But then he paints anyway.

It’s the crispest I can put it: show up. It’s enough to start with.

(Then go to item #1. I’m telling you, it’s dynamite).

Now you.

It’s why I decided to start something on my own, by the way. Politics. I binge on it on House of Cards, not on my agenda. But even for deaf ears like mine, this guy brought home some solid points.

The guy, by the way, is the tall, cryptic editor of British Vogue, Johan Svensson. It was, yes, the same brain spa with creative direction aromas at Frieze’s. Let’s plunge.

1. Don’t pitch when they’re miserable, sit on stuff until they’re ripe.

Assuming you have the time, of course. But would you go for it if you knew you’re headed for Noville, or would you rather wait until planets align?

Here’s what Johan was implying: you would read the signs like Sherlock.

You’d know when [replace fashion icon Carine Roitfeld, his boss at Vogue France, with your designated other] was happy and ready to say yes to you and when to shut that thing, smile and wait.

2. Always go over budget.

Because If you won’t, you’ll get squeezed.

I believe he later uttered something about making them think they’re getting what they want while you’re getting what you want.

By this point, I was beside myself. Not sure it was the mind blowing covers he was machine gunning at us or the commentary. J is a man of few words, but they sure as hell matter.

Johan, please post the waiting list link for your next negotiation seminar, would you?

3. Discovery can be tedious work. And worth every inch.

By far, my favourite. And not sure related to politics anyway.

It was about how finding reference pictures, the more precise, the better, can sometimes be tedious. In my world, that’s getting to the you-had-me-at-hello tag-lines or subject lines and about pages.

Here’s where I got the ball and ran with it in my mind. Reference work is hard. And if you work with a new idea, whether it’s words, metal, or code, you might not know where it’s going.

Beginnings are delicate and precious.

Making your idea fly is part alchemy, part structure and detective work, and a good splash of luck, where luck means places you’ve been, your tribe, how you jump on the waves of time etc.

If it gets discouraging at times, it’s because it’s not easy and not for everybody. You’re working on that thinking and conjuring muscle and that makes you one of a kind.

Some experiments will take you places and some will take you to the next that takes you places.

(I watched this TED talk today of a girl who does useless things and you-tubes about it to a chunky following. She sure looked happy.)

So stick to it. The six inches in front of your face. Once in a while, look up and feel good.

Because you’re in the good game.

“Your material is the vehicle for you to express your spirit, it’s why you’re on the planet.”

(I did not say that, nor did the Vogue guy. That’s Jerry Seinfeld all over. Or he quoted some other smart dude.)

Things are always clear in retrospect. If it’s hazy now it’s because you’re heading into unchartered territory.

Which makes you a pioneer.

And some survival skills would do you just fine.

Like these from the guy from Vogue who’s seriously into beauty, but would rather spell out haikus on politics. That’s his thing.

She is Veronica Ditting, owner of quirky studio with same name and creative director to The Gentlewoman, self described as “a fabulous magazine for modern women of style and purpose.” Which it is, by the way, if books that weigh north of 5 kilos don’t discourage you to peruse. (If they do, just go digital.)

And I was glued to her crispness. In a world of bells and whistles, she was going for essence, always my drug of choice. The place was Basement, in London, and the occasion was Frieze Academy‘s The Art of Creative Direction, a whole day of talks from creatives. It felt like a ticket to a Michelin star idea kitchen, where you’re allowed to witness some of the carrot slicing and sautéing. It was, again, a perfect gift from one of my dearest friends.

“You open up their world,” she continued. “They’re not used to the creative universe.” And this rang so true. It occurred to me that what she does with visuals, I do with words, which I confided in her towards the end of the day. She nodded in agreement. Always work with what’s in front of you and look for the most appropriate form of content. Then apply your process. In my line of business, this translates into “what is this thought leader up to? How do I make that message travel across? Does he or she need a talk? A book? Is this a blog post or ten?” It is, as Veronica said, “the arrangement of life.” (I think Vermeer would have agreed, by the way.) She arranges shapes. With copy, it’s about arranging words. As long as the mind is clear first.

Ever thought about the ideas swarming in your head? They are alive, by the way (says Elizabeth Gilbert; and entrepreneur Suzy Batiz, the latest guest to Marie Forleo‘s solid string of interviews). Your idea of a new business, e-course or book is alive. And is looking for the right mould or container to lay itself into.

Muffins go to the muffins tins. Quiches go to quiche pans. Ideas go to the lab first, where they’re kneaded until we figure out if they’re muffins of quiches. Then they get poured into their respective trays and shovelled into the oven.

That’s how you get clear, crisp and punchy headlines that make clients say yes and encore. Or buttery-with-a-touch-of-tangy blog posts that make them know, like and trust you. Or airy-chocolaty-with-a-pinch-of-salt work-with-me pages that give you 3-month waiting lists.

The Gentlewoman does not sell fashion as a fantasy. I do not sell strategy and copy that explode your business overnight. I have had my own learning curve online and will not contribute to that collective work of make-believe. But I will get to the bone of who you are and what you do or what your new idea is, will grill it with questions to test its substance and give it the shape it needs to live.

I asked Veronica for a pic and she was so graceful about it. (She’s the one with understated elegance and charm. I’m the one with the really cute top, nerdy glasses and I-just-ate-a-frog face. She wanted to know where I was from. I said Eastern Europe. She implied I looked the part. As I should. It’s where I come from.)

On the way home, I stepped into Selfridges’ and got a really nice copy of Alice in Wonderland. The air felt crisp and I let myself tempted into a sunset pic.