When I sat down to write this week, I went through my notes, looked at all the ideas I had, and… nothing.

I just stared at the cursor blinking back and forth.

So I stopped.

I practiced some calm breathing and tried to center myself. I started asking, What helps me write? What gets me in the zone? What tells my brain it’s time for this particular activity?

Then it hit me.

Music.

When I’m in my study in the backyard writing, there’s just something about having music on. I like it loud, with a beat that matches how I’m feeling that day. Lately, Spotify’s AI DJ has actually been a pretty good companion.

Music has always been a motivational cue for me. Even back in college, if I wanted to get something done, the music came on first. There’s something about the rhythm and the noise that, ironically, helps me block everything else out and focus.

Sure enough, the moment I turned it on, I went from the drum major frozen in front of the wall in Animal House to my own hot pink fox sprinting freely across an open field, locked in on its next meal.

I was off.

It reminded me that even when we know the things that help us perform, we don’t always use them right away. And that’s okay. Taking a moment to pause, reflect, and ask yourself what’s missing can often be enough to get you moving again.

That’s the power of reflection: discovering the cues that consistently bring out your best.

Naturally, I got curious. Was there actually research behind this?

It turns out there is.

One fascinating neuroscience study found that familiar musical cues activate brain regions involved in attention, motivation, cognitive control, and reward anticipation before the rewarding part of the song even arrives. In other words, the brain begins preparing for action before the chorus starts.

Think about:

Entrance music in sports
Pump-up songs before a game
Wedding processional music
Military bugle calls

The cue itself prepares the body.

You know I love a sports analogy, so you can probably see where this is going.

I realized that music is my walk-up song.

Except instead of walking into the batter’s box, I’m walking to the chair in my office.

I had never thought about it that way before, but it makes perfect sense.

My brain recognizes a pattern. Music has been paired with productive writing so many times that now it’s become the signal. It’s telling my mind and body, We’ve done this before. It’s time to go.

That’s exactly what walk-up music does for an athlete. It doesn’t magically make them a better hitter. It prepares them to become the version of themselves they’ve practiced being.

Now I know that if I want to write, one of the simplest things I can do is press play.

It made me immediately think of Sirius by The Alan Parsons Project.

As a kid, I loved basketball. And there was nothing more magical than hearing those first few notes as the defending champion Chicago Bulls emerged from the darkness. The lights dropped, Ray Clay’s voice filled the arena, and Michael Jordan and the Bulls came running onto the court.

Even watching it through a television screen, you could feel your heart rate rise.

That music wasn’t just entertainment. It was a cue. It prepared everyone in the building for what was about to happen.

Maybe that’s why music works so well for me today.

When I press play before I write, I’m not just listening to songs. I’m stepping into my own version of that player introduction. It’s my cue that says, it’s time to perform.

So I’ll leave you with this:

What’s the cue that helps you become the best version of yourself?

Steve

Forward this to a friend 🙂