Advice you didn't ask for
Part 1 of way too many
Regardless of your job or field, let me suggest you make a very small investment in something that could reward you with a surprising return down the line. Buy yourself a small notebook. Nothing fancy, just something sturdy and compact—ideally something you can tuck into a pocket, so it’s always close at hand. I’d recommend one with hard covers for durability, but, of course, you do you. And while you’re at it, grab a pen. Now, a fountain pen is always nice because it nudges you to improve your handwriting and adds a bit of ceremony to the process. A LAMY Safari perhaps? But I’m only a little biased. If the humble BIC is more your speed, go for it. There’s a reason they’ve sold over 100 billion of those since 1950; they clearly know what they’re doing.
Now that you’re equipped, there’s one simple thing you need to remember: whenever you get an idea for a product, startup, or creative venture, jot it down in your notebook. Maybe it’s something small, like an observation, or a half-formed concept, or maybe it arrives fully realized, like a line from the latest tech pitch: “Uber—but for plants.” If you’ve got a “Uber—but for plants” moment, you might find yourself pausing to question it. “What does this even mean?” or “Hasn’t everyone thought of something like this already?” But here’s the thing, and it’s crucial: don’t judge your ideas, especially the weird or the half-baked ones. They are what they are. Some are idiotic, bad or morally questionable. Some are absurd. But that doesn’t mean they don’t have value. From experience, I can tell you that some ideas age well and inspire new thoughts down the line, while others become, if nothing else, a good laugh at your own expense in the years to come.
Think of it like an idea for a story and tell your future self the key pieces of information they need to recreate it. Then let the idea go. You have committed it to paper after all, it’s all there if you need it. And if you’re a doodler, then doodle something. This is only for you after all. Don’t be precious about it.
The goal of keeping a journal like this isn’t about finding your million-dollar idea every week[1]. It’s about building a habit of capturing your thoughts before they disappear into the ether. Ideas are slippery things; they come at odd times and slip away just as quickly. It’s not uncommon to find yourself suddenly struck with a good idea while you’re on the train or in line at the grocery store. You think to yourself, “I’ll remember this later.” But you won’t. At least, not in the form it originally arrived. And even if you manage to recall it, there’s a good chance you’ll have lost some part of it, or your enthusiasm for it will have faded. Writing it down immediately not only preserves the idea but captures the energy and context in which it first appeared.
When I started keeping an idea journal, I quickly realized that most of my ideas weren’t great—at least, not on their own. I’d jot down things like “an app to track houseplants” or “a reusable notebook that erases with water”[2]. I’d flip back through the pages and think, “What was I even thinking?” But over time, I noticed a few things. First, those ideas started to change. Sometimes, one idea would combine with another in unexpected ways. The app for houseplants might spark something completely different, or the thought of a reusable notebook might trigger a new concept that hadn’t been obvious before. The magic is that the ideas I had initially dismissed took on new shapes over time. They became part of a larger pattern I hadn’t initially recognized.
This brings me to another benefit of keeping an idea journal: it allows you to track your thinking over time. The ideas themselves are only part of the story. What’s just as fascinating—and valuable—is seeing how your thought processes evolve. Patterns emerge. You may find you’re drawn to certain themes or types of solutions. Maybe your notebook is filled with ideas for environmentally friendly products, or you keep returning to the notion of streamlining services through tech. These patterns can reveal insights into your own motivations and interests that you weren’t aware of. They become a kind of feedback loop, feeding you information about yourself that can guide your next move, whether that’s pursuing an idea more seriously, seeking out collaborators, or pivoting in a new direction entirely.
And then, there’s the sheer value of having a record. Fast forward six months or a year, and imagine yourself leafing through the pages of your notebook. It can be a surreal experience, reading ideas you barely remember writing down, half-formed thoughts that you’d forgotten, or clever sparks that you were too busy to chase. Sometimes, what seemed like a strange idea months ago makes perfect sense with the benefit of hindsight, and you suddenly realize, “There’s something to this.” This is where the real benefit of your idea journal comes into play. It becomes a time capsule of sorts, reminding you of all the thoughts you might have lost, each one a potential seed for future innovation.
Another benefit is that keeping a journal like this has a way of training your mind to be more observant. When you know that you’re actively cataloging your ideas, you start to notice things you might otherwise have ignored. You’ll find yourself spotting opportunities everywhere, from everyday annoyances[3] to conversations with friends or colleagues. You start framing situations as potential sources of ideas. In this way, the journal doesn’t just record ideas; it helps generate them. The act of journaling itself cultivates creativity and curiosity, a way of priming your brain to keep looking for the next idea.
You may also find, as I have, that an idea journal becomes a bit of a counterbalance to your own inner critic. When you make a habit of capturing every idea, no matter how silly or ambitious, you start to learn not to judge them prematurely. Your journal becomes a safe space for ideas that might not survive the scrutiny of your more rational self. That half-formed notion of an app to connect local dog walkers? Into the notebook it goes. That impractical yet hilarious idea for a self-destructing to-do list? Write it down. With time, you get better at letting ideas exist in their raw form, without forcing them into a “good” or “bad” box.
Over time, this practice teaches you that creativity doesn’t come from waiting for the perfect idea to land in your lap. It’s an iterative process, one that involves sorting through a lot of rough ideas to find the occasional gem. Some of your ideas will remain absurd, while others may become the basis for something real. In either case, there’s value in both. And if nothing else, you’ll get a chance to laugh at the outrageous concepts your past self once believed in, which is its own kind of reward.
If you’re thinking this all sounds like a lot of work for something that might just end up a collection of strange doodles and random notes, you’re probably right. Keeping an idea journal isn’t about finding the holy grail of product ideas every time you open it. It’s about allowing yourself to engage with the world as a curious observer, jotting down thoughts that otherwise would have vanished. It’s about letting yourself play with concepts without needing immediate results. And who knows? Every once in a while, you might just find that one idea that sticks, the one that sparks a project, a product, or even a business.
So go ahead, make that small investment in yourself. Buy the notebook, grab a pen, and start writing down those wild, half-baked ideas as they come. Don’t worry if they’re imperfect or even outright bizarre[4]. They’re all part of the process, a stepping stone on the path to bigger and better ideas. And if nothing else, you’ll have something to look back on—a map of your thoughts, each one a small reminder that creativity is as much about capturing the strange as it is about finding the perfect.
In the end, an idea journal is about more than just product or business ideas; it’s about giving yourself permission to dream, experiment, and explore. Because sometimes, the things we jot down in passing turn out to be exactly what we needed all along.
It could happen obviously but then again you could get hit by lightning while riding a unicycle as well.
Don’t ask about the houseplant thing and the notebook idea? Spoiler: it already exists.
“Why isn’t there a better way to do this?” can be considered the classic path to ideation.
Arguably those ideas are the most awesome of all.