But if you let it, lightening can strike. You could be anywhere: a steamy shower, a long walk, falling asleep, in the middle of the night. And wham, there it is, the lead you’ve been searching for. The perfect structure for that feature story. The idea for an article you just know your favorite editor will love.

I call these “aha” moments. For me, they normally come when I’m relaxed or letting my mind wander.

I was inspired to think about inspiration by an article in the July 28 issue of The New Yorker on the subject of insights and how people get them, “The Eureka Hunt: Where in our brains do insights come from?” by Jonah Lehrer. (When I checked today, this article was not online yet. I’ll make the link live when it is.)

In his story, Lehrer interviews a variety of scientists who study the brain and comes to some of the same conclusions that people who work in creative fields like writing have discovered intuitively: that if you walk away from a difficult problem your brain continues to tackle it and will come up with a solution when you least expect it; that being relaxed helps the brain do its thing; that the best time to work on creative endeavors is in the early morning when your mind is half-asleep but more open to new ideas than when you’re fully awake.

How do you get inspired?

You know it’ll be hard, but you look forward to it anyway. Even so, when the time comes, it’s easy to put off, to turn over and go back to sleep or distract yourself some other way.

Once you’re on the trail, it’s exciting. Everything is fresh, every new bend an adventure. What will you discover? What will you learn about yourself?

Halfway through, the excitement’s turned to drudgery. There’s only one way to go and it’s all uphill. You can’t imagine ever being done. You wonder why you thought this was a good idea.

Then it happens. You can see the end and realize you’ve almost finished what you set out to accomplish. The rush pushes you through.

No matter now many times you go down the path, it doesn’t get easier, in hiking or writing. But you do it again, for the journey, the self awareness and the rush that comes at the end.

Enough analogies. On this Memorial Day, put aside your writing and go for a real hike in the woods.

I know if I don’t do anything I’d wake up the next morning and not remember the idea or sentence or inspiration that work me. So at 3 a.m. I turn on the light and reach for the red-covered journal I keep next to my nightstand. And write.