Most of us are trying to be inspired while also trying to look like we have our lives together.
Which is… adorable. And also wildly incompatible. And mostly impossible.
Because inspiration rarely shows up when we’re performing, polishing, curating, or trying to control the outcome. It tends to arrive when we forget to care about how we appear at all.
That’s the third precursor state to inspiration: self-forgetfulness.
And no, it’s not a dramatic ego funeral. It’s something way simpler and way more available.
What self-forgetfulness actually is (and what it isn’t)
Self-forgetfulness is exactly what it suggests: your attention shifts away from you. You’re not monitoring your tone. You’re not replaying what you just said. You’re not running your internal PR department. You’re present, and almost outside your body, because your focus is elsewhere.
In my mind, it’s like a spotlight. Most of the time, we keep that spotlight aimed directly at ourselves: what I need to do, how I’m doing, how I’m being perceived. In self-forgetfulness, the spotlight swings outward. Something else takes center stage.
And here’s an important nuance: self-forgetfulness is not the same as stillness or absorption.
You can be absorbed in something and still be self-conscious. Writing a bio, rehearsing a talk, prepping for a big meeting. You might be deeply focused, but you’re also monitoring yourself. Self-forgetfulness removes the mirror. You’re fully present, but you’re not watching yourself.
That’s why it feels so good.
Because when we stop fixating on ourselves, the mental chatter quiets. The twelve-lane highway in your brain slows into a meandering country road.
It’s not ego death. It’s ego quiet. The narrator, the strategist, the self-critic takes a seat for a minute. And in that quiet, you often find clarity, connection, and the earliest flickers of inspiration.
Why this matters (especially if you lead humans)
Leadership often makes self-forgetfulness harder.
Because leadership can turn life into a constant state of evaluation: Am I doing enough? Did I say the right thing? Do they trust me? Do I look confident? Am I failing in public?
It’s exhausting. And it keeps the spotlight glued to your own face.
Self-forgetfulness is the antidote to that tight, self-protective stance. It’s the moment you stop performing and start participating. And inspiration loves participation.
Also, self-forgetfulness tends to create connection. When the spotlight swings outward, the light illuminates life outside yourself: community, nature, art, something bigger.
And connection is fuel.
You can’t force it, but you can recognize the doorway
Self-forgetfulness isn’t something you can white-knuckle into existence. You usually notice it afterward.
A few signs you were there:
- Physical: time shifts, you forget your body, you forget your phone exists
- Mental: your internal narrator goes quiet, you stop worrying how you sound, your problems temporarily vanish
- Emotional: you feel connected to something beyond you, no sense of performing, a lightness in your chest
Three reliable paths into self-forgetfulness
1) Community: the “we” that quiets the “me”
One of the easiest places to find self-forgetfulness is in the right room with the right people for the right reasons. The worry about performance gets lighter. Something bigger moves into the foreground.
It could be a worship service, a jujitsu class, a leadership group, or a Springsteen concert. You’re not narrating your shortcomings. You’re absorbed in the collective. Less “me,” more “we.”
And it requires conditions: safety, value alignment, and a willingness to participate. When people are busy self-protecting, they can’t self-forget.
2) Nature: when the world gets big and you get small
Have you ever stood somewhere vast and felt your problems shrink to pebbles? Thunderstorm rolling in, ridgeline stretching forever, deadlines dissolving? That’s self-forgetfulness.
Nature is one of the most reliable places to lose yourself in something bigger (also where we find spaciousness and stillness).
3) Art: a fast way to drop the mirror
Art can ambush you into presence. A painting. A song. A sentence in a book. Even the way a dish is plated. We can forget ourselves just as easily in art as we can in nature.
There’s even research that suggests engaging with art through the lens of beauty can increase abstract thinking and make people more likely to feel moved or inspired (more on that in a later blog post).
A simple practice for this week: “Spotlight Swing”
Try this for five days:
- Pick one doorway: community, nature, or art.
- Give it ten minutes minimum. (Less than that and your brain is still clearing its throat.)
- During the ten minutes, ask: Where is my spotlight right now?
- Gently aim it outward: to the trees, the music, the other person’s story, the brushstroke, the sky.
- Afterward, jot a single line: Did the mirror disappear at all? What helped?
If you want a bonus exercise, do a quick Community Mapping audit: list where you feel genuine belonging, then note what makes it feel safe to be real.
Because the goal isn’t to manufacture self-forgetfulness on command.
It’s to notice what invites it.
And then, with a little flexible discipline and a lot less self-monitoring, you start building a life where inspiration has somewhere to land.