Style used to be an interaction between the human soul and tools that were limiting. In the digital era, it will have to come from the soul alone.

Jaron Lanier

With the proliferation of using AI to augment everything we do, demonstrating perfect skill in a particular area won’t be a difficult task.

Thanks to the masters of the past, and present, we can program computers to do just about anything to the level of any human throughout history. That’s powerful.

While I am curious about the development of AI aided writing, I remain skeptical of what it will bring.

I can see this as a net positive to schools, especially post secondary programs, where students are forced to write the same, bland, formulaic essays. Why do I say positive?

It might finally force teachers and professors to rethink their assessment methods if they know their students are just plugging in terms into an AI engine to spit out a paper.

However, the idea of reading a sample of your writing to get a sense of your voice, then writing large chunks of text—that’s concerning. Finding your voice requires endless hours, many detours and tons of experimentation. This is true in writing, music, performance or whatever pursuit one embarks on.

It requires giving a bit, if not all, of your soul and what you’re doing. There’s a reason we still celebrate Johnny Cash and not some overproduced boy band of the 90s.

My worry is we will become so enamoured with the production values we’re capable of and forget what’s behind it.

Delivering some thing with soul means you bare your imperfections and brokenness, along with your passions. If we’re willing to do that, then the future is looking bright.

It’s always amazing to see the ways people interpret things: events, art, actions… whatever. What they perceive, versus what the intention may have been, is an outstanding insight into the lens from which they see the world.

The fun of writing is seeing the response people give to your work. Sometimes, it provides insight into the reader and other times it provides great insight into myself.

How am I being perceived?

There’s what I intended and what I think I’m conveying, but if it’s been taking a different way, it’s time for serious self reflection.

However, sometimes people are just going to interpret and take from you as they will. There’s not much you can do about it except shrug.

For instance, in my first year of theology, I had a professor who brought in art objects every lesson and asked us to provide our insight/interpretation. One student in the class would consistently remark on the phallic nature of said objects.

And when I say consistently, I mean every… single… object.

It didn’t matter what it was, just like sometimes it won’t matter what you do—people will just take from it what they will.

Patience is a virtue that seems to be rapidly declining, but is highly lauded. Regardless of who we are, we could all use a bit more of it in life.

Then there’s the whole axiom of good things coming to those who wait, which has a great kernel of truth to it.

However, if we wait too long, or wait for the “perfect” moment, we will miss it tremendously. I equate it to being stuck in the dreaded ‘waiting place’ of Dr. Seuss’ Oh the Places You’ll Go.

People just waiting.

Some of the best advice I ever received was a direct shot at my indecisiveness (masked as patience) when I was told waiting for the right/perfect circumstances is a futile effort. If things are mostly in place, make the leap and work with what happens.

So far, it’s worked out well.

I also think of the story of NASA launching the Voyager probes. Their window to get them out there and cross the solar system was very limited. It was a perfect alignment that rarely happens, but would allow the satellites to reach the outskirts of the system in record time while visiting each planet.

Have they waited until technology was a bit better, they had more funding, info, etc. they would’ve missed an opportunity that comes only once every 175 years.

It’s a strong lesson that when the circumstances are in place, it’s time to make the leap.

I’ve been contemplating the nature of art for the past two decades. While minuscule compared to the great artists of the past who spent a lifetime contemplating it, I do have one advantage:

I can learn from all of them.

What I’ve come to understand so far is the nature of art is fluid. It is in constant flux.

It pushes boundaries and it also elevates its audience… good art anyway. Spitting on the ground and calling it performance art, and other such nonsense, is ridiculous.

However, the idea of art is no longer relegated to the traditional boundaries of galleries and museums.

How often do we hear a master of their craft tell us there’s an art to their work?

Plumbing, mathematics, gardening—you name it.

A lifelong dedication to any craft is an art form and since we spend our lives pursuing it, all of life is really an art.

Art is life and it’s what moves us, sustains us and gives us purpose.

Consider the number of ideas they get trashed and life.

These are ideas that might be written down and physically dumped, virtually deleted or banished from the recesses of your mind. Gone.

Why?

Why were they deemed unworthy of attention?

What stopped you from pursuing them?

Often, we consider realistic expectations as the primary explanation (and it can be a good one), but the danger is applying at carte blanche. It’s easy to cross over into the boundary of only safe or comfortable ideas.

In other words, the trash bin can be your excuse for not taking any risks.

However, if we’re looking to take another look at what’s in there, we will find something worth pursuing.

Something courageous.

Something you need right now.

There’s this classic story that the enlightenment in Europe happened as a direct result of importing coffee. Prior to this, the safest thing to drink was alcohol and people (including kids) would drink it for breakfast, lunch and dinner.

Then, coffee is introduced and everything changed.

The process of making coffee involved boiling water (even safer than the distilling process of alcohol), after which you ingested a stimulant (caffeine). People gathered at coffeehouses to discuss ideas, the fog of alcohol wore off and the rest is history.

Pretty simplistic, but it drives home a point:

Removing the obstacle of clear, coherent thought, combined with the exchange of sober ideas, leads to a rapid acceleration of knowledge.

While there is still a case for caffeine, it being the most addictive drug in the world, many of our water supplies are clean. We have many places to gather and share ideas… and we can even do this virtually on a global scale.

So where is our enlightenment?

It’s hiding behind a new fog.

It’s not alcohol that is hindering our thinking (although that may be the case for many), it’s distraction.

To blame one particular entity for our constant distracted state would miss the broader view; too much noise.

While it would be wonderful if we were introduced to a new drink that would block the noise and keep us focused, we will have to settle for the slow, arduous process of self-discipline.

Failure is proof that you were willing to experiment and push the boundaries of what makes you comfortable. In the process of growth, it is a necessary part of making it happen.

No, nobody likes the feeling of failure and we certainly wouldn’t tolerate it for life and death situations (e.g. I wouldn’t want my surgeon to fail), but this is where lessons are learned. Others may have gone before you, left some guidelines and even offered their own failures as a route to avoid, yet it requires experimentation to find out for yourself.

However, there’s no sugarcoating that failure is painful and doesn’t get easier (it can actually feel worse). I also don’t subscribe to this online love fest of celebrating it, especially if others were recipients of that experience. I mean, I can’t think of a single audience who appreciates watching a performer fail to entertain them.

It simply comes down to a willingness to shred those painful waters because the end result is something more magnificent than what you thought was possible.

Having a system in place for the things you do in life is infinitely more powerful than simply wishing for things to get done. You stick with the system and many accomplishments are made.

However, I’ve noticed this horrible habit of people trying to fit a system rather than adopting a system to fit them.

There’s a desperation to follow in the footsteps of others, or to even take advantage of the latest app, that we force ourselves into the mold. While this may produce some results, it’s a constant fight of willpower to sustain.

Eventually, it will crumble.

I tend towards two questions when putting together the systems in my life:

1. What will make this easier?
2. How can I make this consistent?

For instance, at the stage of life I’m in now with small pockets of time throughout the day, sitting at my computer to write for large swaths of time is not happening. However, a legal pad and pen first thing in the morning while the kids watch cartoons is much easier.

As circumstances change, this system will change as well.

It’s hard to fit a mold, but it’s easy to create one for yourself. The keys are personalization and consistency because systems over time create powerful outcomes.

The hardest lens to look through is an objective one on your own life. To put aside the bias and rose-tinted glasses is a tough feat.

Looking back at my own life, as I so often do, I had to come to terms that I wasn’t the greatest person. As much as I would like to think I was a good person, there is much evidence to show otherwise.

There’s evidence in my actions, words and intentions.

Much, if not all, came from a place of insecurity. This would later get bottled up and transformed into anger, making me some sort of twisted alchemist.

However, being able to see my own history for what it is has opened opportunities for real growth, healing and transformation. As I realized, those negative traits don’t simply go away, they stay and manifest in other ways.

It’s what I tell my students: the people around you don’t go away when you graduate—they become adults.

Being a better person then, isn’t only looking at ways to improve, but really recognizing where are you suck.

I wasn’t as good as I thought, but I still have a lifetime to get better.

My initial decision making process before buying a book went something like this:

Is the premise interesting to me?
Sample a bit—does it draw me in?
If yes, then pick it up.

Alternatively, someone would suggest a book for me and I would also pick it up with no questions asked.

Then along came user reviews on Amazon… then Goodreads… book bloggers… social media… each review affirming or doubting a decision to buy.

Authors doubled down on getting as many reviews as possible because people paid attention. They knew it was now part of their audience’s decision making process.

This extended to other products, sites and businesses.

While this may seem like a good thing, it presents a serious problem: many reviews are fake.

It’s ridiculously simple to incentivize people to leave five-star reviews and even easier to get them to leave one-star ones.

Even with the “real” ones, if you read carefully, it’s quite clear whether it’s a legitimate praise or unwarranted criticism (many one-star reviews on the App Store for Apple are people complaining they have to pay for a product). Right now, it’s at the point where my starting point is skepticism about any of them.

It’s just another way to game the system where algorithms reward input with attention.

The only thing that really seems to work is what has worked since the beginning of time: word-of-mouth.

Legitimate people having conversations and making unsolicited recommendations or cautionary tales. Oh, and actually having an experience with the product/service/business itself.

Anything outside of that can promptly be ignored.