The definition of innovative thinking is the ability to come up with new ideas and novel approaches to problems. It is about being creative and flexible.

In the beginning, you should never worry about an idea being “not good enough” or even “silly”. It only takes a minute or two to come up with the next idea. What matters is that you give yourself the creative freedom to brainstorm lots of ideas. That way, the less-good ones can help lead you on to something that’s truly innovative.

You might think that you’d be at your most creative with a blank canvas and the freedom to do anything you want. However, that usually isn’t the case. Creativity actually thrives with limits. Limits can be anything: time, resources, capabilities, or even the type of ideas you’re focusing on.

All too often, inspiration comes when you’re not actively chasing it. Actually, only 3% of people’s best ideas come to them while they’re at their desk. Schedule breaks into your week. Time away doesn’t have to be spontaneous and putting it on your calendar means it’s more likely to happen.

It’s crucial to have a system for collecting and managing your ideas. Although you’re convinced you won’t forget a brilliant idea, you might forget an idea that only seems average—and yet that idea could be just the one you need six months down the line.

It’s easy for innovation to be stifled if you want to get everything just right from day one. Come up with a simplified version of one of your ideas, put it into practice and try it as an experiment for a limited period of time without being too attached to the outcome. Pick an idea to try as a 30-day experiment. If that’s too long, try 14 or 7 days.

Thanks for your attention.

It was the worst day ever and I'll never forget it. The day began as usual. My husband, Alan, entered his office in our home and participated in conference calls. In the kitchen, I could hear him speaking on the phone to his boss. Suddenly, I heard some words that were absolutely alarming.

When he exited his office moments later, my fears were confirmed- Alan had been laid off. I hugged him as my heart sank, and my mind raced: What were we going to do with his unemployment? Would we lose our house if we couldn't afford to pay for it?

“We'll be fine,” he said.

“I know," I responded.

But, frankly, neither of us was very convincing. I wanted to be in bed with covers over my head, but I had to make my way to work. It was an hour into my shift before I received a call from the doctor. I had noticed some strange lumps in my neck, and he'd been performing tests to determine the cause

“You have cancer,” he stated. I distinctly remember my response: “What?” I must have misheard. It sounded like he said I had cancer, but that was completely ridiculous. I had always been healthy and cancer was out of the question. The doctor repeated those terrible words. It was true: Cancer was in my body. He went on discussing future treatment plans and appointments, I think. I really wasn't listening anymore.

As I drove home, I thought about how wonderful things had been up until this day. Now it's time to pay back for all those amazing years. I prepared myself for a hopeless future, or no future at all.

Alan hugged me when I arrived home, and I cried as he held me tight. “Someday in the future, we're going to write about today,” he whispered in my ear, “and we'll call it Worst Day Ever. ”

We cheered ourselves up and stopped feeling sorry.

All the efforts eventually paid off.

I arrived at the pool hall on Wednesday with a heavy heart. Teams from other schools were already suited and warming up by the pool or in the water. The bleachers (露天看台) were full.

“I don’t think I can do this.” I said, twisting the belt of my bag.

“You’ll be fine, and I will be right here watching.” Mom said, dropping an arm around my shoulder and squeezing.

I bit my lip and looked out over the other swimmers. “You sure?”

Mom leaned forward. “Remember, it’s just you. Don’t worry about any of the other swimmers. Just swim your race.”

“OK.”

The warmups and preparations were over before I knew it, and the first round of swimmers were up on the blocks.

I felt sick. I watched my competitors swim, and they looked so strong and skillful in the water. The events screamed by, one after the other. My knees shook as each event clicked closer to mine. The knots in my stomach twisted and coiled like a bag of ropes.

Then the one-hundred breaststroke (蛙泳) was announced.

Nerves choked my throat.

“Just swim your race. Don’t think about the other swimmers.” I repeated it over and over in my mind.

I bent forward on my block in line with the rest of the swimmers, waiting. My body tensed up like a spring. My heart pounded in my ears.

The buzzer (蜂鸣器) sounded. I sprang forward, diving into the water and kicking like a dolphin. Then my head broke free of the water. Just count strokes. I kept my eyes focused on the black line in front of me, ignoring the splashes of movement on either side. Pull. Breathe. Kick. I hit the end of the pool and then my first turn came. I took a deep a breath and turned over, pushing hard against the wall and bursting back the way I came.

Then everything changed.

I was the last one to finish the race.