What an (almost) empty tube of toothpaste taught me about creativity
It’s a daily lesson in resilience – or maybe stupidity
By Adam Lague | Mar 2026
What an (almost) empty tube of toothpaste taught me about creativity
It’s a daily lesson in resilience – or maybe stupidity
By Adam Lague | Mar 2026
Stubbornness can squeeze a lot of toothpaste out of a tube.
At my house, we’ve been dangerously close to the finish line of this one bottle of Sensodyne for weeks. Every morning and every night I come face to face with this thing. I squeeze out just enough paste to brush my teeth exactly one time, smile at the mirror, and wonder when it’ll finally run out.
(Unless she’s abandoned basic hygiene, I have to think my wife is having the exact same experience. We haven’t discussed it.)
Every day I achieve the impossible: I squeeze more paste out of that damn tube. It’s a miserable experience. Each time, I wind up with gunk all over my hands, a sore thumb, and questions about my sanity. Yet I can’t help but keep squeezing.
It’s maniacal behaviour… but it’s an attitude I try to replicate at my desk every day.
See, squeezing the final ounces of paste out of a plastic tube is a lot like writing. Bear with me.
Writing well requires a similar bit of psychotic commitment. To uncover your great ideas, I believe you have to empty your mental tube. Ridding yourself of all the crappy ideas at the front of the line in your head allows you to scratch the surface of the good ones. Pushing your thinking to the limit is how you stumble into gold. It’s mentally draining, it’s uncomfortable, and it’s even a bit painful – just like with the toothpaste.
And while I don’t think there’s any greatness waiting for me at the bottom of my bottle of Sensodyne toothpaste (I’ll find out in a few days) I can assure you that I’m putting on a bathroom masterclass in persistence. It reminds me that when I sit at my desk in the morning, I have to practice that same habit.
I have to unclutter my head. I have to spill out every single thought, idea, and brainwave that pops up. I have to be patient, stubborn even. It’s a commitment that I know, at least when it comes to copywriting, will be worth it.
Writing is fun when the ideas are flowing. When they slow down? That’s when it becomes a grind. It can be enticing to think, That’s enough, and move on to the next idea. To strike gold, you have to push through the urge to stop.
I’m doing the same thing with my toothpaste – fighting the urge to chuck that tube in the trash and move on to the next one. There’s a full tube three feet away staring me in the teeth. But I resist because I’m committed to squeezing every last drop out of the stupid tube. I’m not sure it’s at all beneficial in the bathroom… but it’s a damn good lesson for copywriting.
So I’ll keep squeezing that tube, day after day.
Until my wife throws it out.