It’s not about logic; it’s about linking wonder. That’s how new ideas are born — not in forced thinking, but in childlike seeing.

We were on a walk — me and one of my daughters — when she spotted the giant reeds growing along the path.

She was fascinated.

We stopped. She reached for the tall stalk, and I helped her snap off the plumy head. Then she found some tiny melons scattered nearby and began gathering them like treasure, five of them tucked neatly into her sweater pocket.

With her plume and her pocketful of melons, she said, “This is like a weapon.”

Then, without skipping a beat, she launched into a full reenactment of a scene from KC Undercover, where the character grabs whatever she can find to defend herself — a stick, a household object, anything at hand.

I stood there watching her connect dots only she could see: a plume → a weapon → a TV scene → a story.

She wasn’t overthinking it. She was following her curiosity.

She was doing, instinctively, what most adults forget how to do — tracing meaning from one thing to another, without judgment or hesitation. Her mind was alive, weaving together the seen and the remembered, the real and the imagined.

And I thought — this is exactly how creativity works. You notice. You collect. You connect. You narrate.

It’s not about logic; it’s about linking wonder. That’s how new ideas are born — not in forced thinking, but in childlike seeing.