One of the most important lessons about the creative process

What do days of the week feel like for you? Monday: drag yourself out of bed, or start strong? Wednesday: hump day, a tired creature clawing over the middle of the week? And why is one of the best songs ever called ‘Friday on My Mind’?

But in most of the Middle East, Sunday is the first day of the week. So, Sunday (glorious, lazy lie-in, catch up with friends for brunch vibe for me in Melbourne) feels like Monday. Oh no, back to work.

If the Easybeats were a Middle Eastern band, they’d have written ‘Thursday on My Mind’, which makes no sense whatsoever to a Western audience.

This is anthropomorphising: giving human qualities to something that isn’t human.
My printer hates me.
The algorithm is sulking.
The spreadsheet is judging me.

None of these things has feelings, unless Excel has finally become sentient, in which case we’re all in trouble.

In your presentations, anthropomorphising makes abstract ideas (anything you can’t touch) feel alive.

It’s playful, instantly relatable and gives an idea life without a giant prop or a smoke machine. Though obviously, I support the smoke machine in principle.

I once saw a speaker show the voices in our heads, the ones that pipe up when you try something new. Each voice had its own physicality, its own tone. Simple, fun, so original.

Don’t dismiss anthropomorphising as too hard. Even when it doesn’t give you the result you are chasing, the exploration can lead you somewhere richer.

That is one of the most important lessons about the creative process. You do not always find what you set out looking for. Sometimes the act of looking reveals something you could not see before.

Start with an abstract idea in your presentation: trust, resilience, change. Then ask: what would this idea do if it sprang off the page and walked into the room? What human qualities would it have?

You may be surprised where it takes you. And where it takes your audience.