The Surprising Power of Daydreaming: Why “Doing Nothing” Fuels Creativity, Insight, and Calm

I often write in cafés. There’s something about the bustle—clattering trays, baristas shouting names, the steady blur of strangers coming and going—that soothes me. Somehow, it creates just enough background noise for my mind to settle.

But I have an odd habit that’s gotten me into trouble more than once.

When I’m lost in thought, searching for the right word or uncovering the truth inside a sentence, I tend to stare. Not at anything—or anyone—in particular. Just out the window, into the middle distance where ideas begin to form.

More than once, a stranger has walked up to my table with a puzzled smile:
“Excuse me… do I know you?”
The unspoken question: Why are you staring at me?

The truth is, I’m not really seeing them. I’m deep in what might look like a mental detour… but is actually a destination.

Daydreaming: A Creative Tool in Disguise

For most of us, daydreaming gets a bad reputation. It’s often associated with distraction, laziness, or “checking out.” But in reality, daydreaming is a highly productive—and deeply human—brain function.

Scientists call it the default mode network (DMN): a set of brain regions that activate when we’re not focused on a task. This network lights up when we’re resting, walking, showering, gazing out the window, or even just letting our thoughts drift during a boring meeting.

What happens during this downtime?

• Our brains process recent experiences 
• We form creative connections between seemingly unrelated ideas
• We problem-solve in nonlinear ways
• We rehearse future scenarios, revisit the past, and make meaning in the present

It’s why solutions show up in the shower… or why you remember something important while folding laundry. The DMN is like your brain’s compost pile: it turns scraps of thought into fertile creative ground.

How Daydreaming Helps Writers, Creatives—and Everyone

As a writer and mindfulness coach, I’ve learned that daydreaming is not the opposite of focus—it’s what fuels it.

When I let my mind wander, I often return to the page with clearer insights, more vivid imagery, or a deeper emotional truth. When I play my harp, I notice the same rhythm in music: a note lands fully only when there’s space around it. Stillness gives sound its meaning.

For anyone—not just artists—this kind of wandering attention helps you:

•  Regulate stress by softening cognitive overload
•  Strengthen memory and intuition 
•  Access insights that can’t be reached through logic alone
•  Find calm in the pause between tasks or emotions

 The Window Practice

Even if you’re not a writer, you can use daydreaming intentionally. Here’s how:

Try This: A 5-Step Daydreaming Practice to Spark Insight

Daydreaming isn’t a waste of time—it’s a powerful tool for creativity, clarity, and emotional integration. Here’s how to daydream with intention (but not control). 

Step 1: Choose a setting.
Go somewhere that offers gentle, ambient noise and a touch of movement: a café, a park bench, a train station, a quiet library, or even a corner of your home where you can watch the world outside. The key is a place that’s active enough to create a hum of life—but not so stimulating that it pulls your full attention.

Step 2: Set a loose intention.
You’re not “trying” to solve something. You’re inviting your mind to soften around a gentle question. Choose something open-ended, like:

• “Where am I forcing instead of letting flow happen?
• “What am I longing to feel more of?”
• “What would a sense of calm feel like to me?”
• “What story have I been trying not to tell?”

Step 3: Stare into the middle distance.
Let your eyes relax. You’re not focusing on anything specific—just letting the world blur a little. Watch the play of light on a surface, or the slow dance of tree branches, or the rhythm of people moving past.

This “soft gaze” invites your default mode network to activate—the same part of the brain that lights up during deep reflection, storytelling, and memory processing. You’re letting your mind meander into meaningful associations without pushing for an answer.

Step 4: Notice.
Something will begin to stir. Maybe not right away. That’s okay. Notice textures, metaphors, sensations. You might see an older couple passing a shared drink back and forth—suddenly you feel the ache of longing. Or hear the rhythm of footsteps and remember the tempo of a song you used to love.

If an image, feeling, or phrase arises, jot it down to explore later.

Step 5: Reflect or create.
When you return from your reverie—whether five minutes or thirty—consider what’s lingered. Maybe it’s just a feeling of ease. Or maybe it’s a phrase, an idea, or the start of something you didn’t know you were looking for.

You don’t have to write a full story or solve anything. You could:

• Write one sentence that captures what floated up
• Record a voice note of what you felt
• Sit with the feeling a bit longer
• Use it later as a prompt

This kind of open space is where ideas whisper. It’s where emotions settle and reorganize. When we let our minds wander, we give our brains permission to make sense of what we’ve been carrying.

We find beauty—and beyond that, we find meaning. 

It’s how a long-forgotten memory drifts to the surface… holding the answer you didn’t know you needed.
How the scent of an orange takes you back to your grandmother’s kitchen—and suddenly you understand why something’s been bothering you. How the sight of a dog dancing in the park becomes your metaphor for healing.

This is the quiet power of daydreaming. It’s not distraction, but a direction.