Nick Milo’s recent talk on the “Architect and Gardener” framework has completely changed how I think about my creative process. As someone who constantly struggles between planning everything meticulously and following my curiosity wherever it leads, his insights felt like someone had finally put words to my daily mental tug-of-war.

The core idea is brilliantly simple: in any creative effort, we can only be architects or gardeners. One prioritizes order, the other curiosity. The problem? Most of us get stuck in one mode when we actually need both.

The Two Paths to Creation

According to Milo, architects are top-down thinkers who crave structure and organization. They need to consider the broader implications before taking action. Gardeners, on the other hand, are bottom-up thinkers who follow their enthusiasm and don’t mind a bit of mess.

I’ve always been drawn to a career as an architect in my work. I want outlines, roadmaps, and clear destinations. When someone asks, “Do you know the end of your story?” I typically answer yes. But this approach has its downsides.

The unhealthy architect tendency that resonated most with me was what Milo calls “fragile thinking” — becoming paralyzed when you don’t have enough structure. I’ve abandoned projects simply because I couldn’t map out every step in advance. I’ve turned brainstorming sessions into interrogations, demanding concrete answers when exploration was what we needed.

“When an architect is operating in a healthy way, you enjoy seeing the big picture… but can you be loose enough to allow for emergent ideas to form?”

That question hit home. Can I let go enough to discover the unexpected?

How Our Tools Shape Our Thinking

What I found most eye-opening was Milo’s analysis of how our note-taking systems either lock us into one mode or help us switch between them.

Traditional folders force us to be architects. When you have a new idea (like “apple”), you must decide: “In which folder does this exclusively belong?” This creates friction and, as Milo points out, generates little value. If you’re already architect-leaning like me, folders double down on that tendency, potentially causing creative gridlock.

Linked notes, however, allow us to modulate between modes. Instead of asking “where does this belong?” we can ask more generative questions:

  • What is this a part of? (architect thinking)
  • What does this relate to? (gardener thinking)
  • Why do I care about this? (meaning-making)

These questions create value through sense-making rather than mere organization.

Practical Ways to Switch Between Modes

I’m now implementing several of Milo’s exercises to help me move between architect and gardener modes:

1. The “Spark to Remarks” Exercise

When I encounter something interesting, instead of just highlighting or copying it, I force myself to complete this sentence: “That’s interesting because…” This simple prompt pushes me to make connections and develop opinions rather than passively consuming information.

Other prompts I’ve started using:

  • “That’s important because…”
  • “That’s part of… because…”
  • “That reminds me of…”
  • “It’s similar to… but different from…”

These prompts help bridge the gap between collecting ideas and connecting them.

2. “Name it to Frame it”

I’m paying more attention to how I title my notes—the act of naming forces me to crystallize what really matters about an idea. As Milo points out, this isn’t just organizational busywork—it’s active sense-making that creates value.

3. “Garden Master”

This approach involves revisiting notes regularly to cultivate them gently. I’ve started setting aside time to walk through my “idea garden,” trimming here, connecting there, allowing thoughts to develop organically over time.

Breaking Through Creative Blocks

The most practical takeaway for me is recognizing that feeling stuck is simply a signal to switch modes. When I’m lost in the weeds (gardener mode), I need to put on my architect hat and create a map to gain perspective. When I’m paralyzed by too much structure (architect mode), I need to just start writing to get back into gardener mode.

I’ve already applied this approach to a writing project I’ve been stuck on for months. Instead of continuing to refine my outline (architect mode), I permitted myself to write messy, exploratory paragraphs (gardener mode). The result was several unexpected connections that have given the project new life.

The beauty of this framework is its simplicity and flexibility. It applies to any creative or problem-solving effort, from writing a novel to developing a business strategy to organizing personal knowledge.

By learning to dance between these two modes—using linked notes as the bridge—we can stay engaged with our material longer and create more meaningful work than we ever would by sticking with just one style.

I’m grateful to Milo for providing this framework. It’s not just a way to organize notes—it’s a way to think more effectively about anything that matters to us.