Can Inspiration Be Codified?

Inspiration is a curious phenomenon—elusive, unpredictable, yet profoundly impactful. My wife, Midori, and I often reflect on what sparks it for each of us. For me, it’s films—especially biopics that chronicle the journey from adversity to achievement. These stories resonate deeply, perhaps because they mirror the narratives I grew up with, shaping my fears, ambitions, and sense of identity (a topic for another blog post, no doubt). Midori, on the other hand, feels most inspired by music, particularly when it’s paired with powerful, emotive lyrics. It’s interesting how different forms of storytelling—whether through film or song—can touch us in, yes, personal, but also profoundly similar ways.

This divergence in ‘inputs’ but similarity in ‘outputs’ leads us to a compelling question: Can we codify inspiration? Is it possible to identify the common threads in what moves us (personally) and recreate those conditions at will?

Consider the elements that often constitute inspiration:

• Emotional resonance: A narrative, image, or melody that strikes a deeply personal chord.
• Cognitive stimulation: New perspectives, ideas, or patterns that push us beyond our current mental framework.

As mentioned, in films, stories of triumph remind me of my own family's journey—immigrant parents who built a life through grit and determination. Music, on the other hand, operates differently for Midori and me. While an intricate beat or an unexpected instrumental riff often moves me, Midori is captivated by the depth of the lyrics. We both find inspiration, but through entirely different mechanisms. And yet, it is possible to break down the recipe. We can identify what it is about the movie, song, book, etc. that seems to inspire us (often repeatedly). 

So, can we reverse-engineer this process? Could we identify the common emotional threads and characteristics of what moves us—whether it’s visual, auditory, or narrative—and recreate the conditions for inspiration on demand? If inspiration could be summoned like a Pavlovian response, it would be nothing short of a superpower. Imagine having the ability to enter a state of inspired flow, tailor-made to fuel creativity, solve problems, or ignite action, all in a moment’s notice.

And yet, something feels off about systematizing inspiration. The serendipity of inspiration—its unpredictability—may be what gives it its power. The moment you try to distill it into a formula, do you risk losing the very magic that makes it so profound?

I’m not sure. But the possibility of wielding inspiration as a tool, rather than waiting passively for its arrival, is thrilling. What if we could command that overwhelming sense of clarity, purpose, and energy exactly when we needed it? The implications are endless, and perhaps, it’s worth exploring further.

Would that diminish the magic—or enhance it?