Some work experiences stick with you—not because they were inspiring, but because they were so puzzling that you couldn’t help but laugh.

A few years ago, I was given what I thought was a joke of an assignment: “Solve this task, but don’t be creative.”

At first, I chuckled. Surely, the person must be kidding. After all, the instruction came from a manager in the field of art and culture—the very sector where creativity is supposed to flow like water. I waited for the punchline. But the punchline never came. The next day, the same demand was repeated to me by my direct manager, who had received a reminder from above: “No creativity, please.”

Now, here’s the thing: problem-solving is creativity. Even understanding the phrase “not creative” requires a bit of creative thinking. So I started wondering—what exactly was I expected to do? Just shuffle papers in the most unimaginative way possible?

The irony wasn’t lost on me. As a consultant, I often notice how little time people take to get to know me. Assumptions fill in the gaps: I’m a technical engineer, so I must be logical, structured, maybe even a little rigid. Few realize that, in my free time, I thrive on creativity—writing, storytelling, and all sorts of projects that demand imagination. To me, creativity and structure aren’t opposites; they’re partners.

So, how did it all end? I did my job quietly, keeping my natural creativity under wraps, like some guilty secret. Summer came and went. Then, in a twist that still makes me smile, the new order arrived: “Solve the task—and this time, be creative.” 

Apparently, creativity had been rediscovered. 

The lesson? Sometimes, the workplace operates according to rules that don’t make sense. But the beauty of creativity is that it never really switches off—it just waits patiently until the world remembers how much it’s needed.