The other day, I asked ChatGPT to help me write a clever subject line for an email. It responded with something that was technically fine. But it had the emotional depth of a beige wall.
And that made me think that the more we depend on AI, the more we need to return to our own messy, magical, wonderfully human selves. Like, immediately, before we start outsourcing our wedding vows and bedtime stories.
I’m not anti-tech. I use AI. It’s quick, efficient, and often wildly helpful. But you know what it’s not? Intuitive or emotionally nuanced. It doesn’t have hunches or goosebumps. It can’t appreciate the brilliance of a thought that begins with “Okay, this might sound weird, but…”
There’s even a whole mini-ecosystem now built around how to "talk to" ChatGPT more effectively. Prompt engineering tips, acronyms, frameworks, flowcharts. Greg Brockman (OpenAI’s president) shared a breakdown of a great prompt into four parts: Goal, Return Format, Warnings, Context Dump.
It’s meant to help you guide AI, but ironically, it’s also a brilliant framework for checking in with yourself. Honestly, it’s kind of genius.
So I started using it—on myself. (I keep it in my Notes app under “Human OS.”:)
Here’s how it works:
Goal:
What am I really after? Not the polished version—the honest one.
What does fulfillment genuinely look like for me right now?
What’s my “main thing”… and am I still keeping it the main thing?
Return Format:
How will I "measure" success?
How will I know I’m on the right track?
What’s the actual signal that I’m moving toward what matters, versus just staying busy?
Warnings:
What tends to derail me?
What types of people, habits, or thought patterns should I be wary of?
Context Dump:
What do I already know from my experience, intuition, and all my strange detours?
The point isn't to demonize technology, it's to remember why we use it. Technology should amplify our humanity, not dilute it. The key is in noticing when we’ve let the convenience of tech dull our instincts, and taking deliberate steps to reclaim our human spark.
Whenever I notice I've spent too much time plugged in—robot mode, as I call it—I make a conscious effort to return to something analog, something low-tech and possibly unproductive. I handwrite a note, step outside to literally touch grass, or I eat blueberries while I stare out the window and let my brain remember what clouds look like.
It’s my not-so-scientific recalibration method. A detox, a palate cleanser. Like following up a doughnut with a green smoothie to trick my body into thinking we’re still on good terms.
Because the goal isn’t balance. It’s intentional imbalance. A deliberate lean back into the human side of things.
I use AI the same way I use cake: strategically, occassionally, and usually followed by something green. Because the real danger of AI isn’t that it replaces us. It’s the subtle erosion of our instincts if we stop listening to them.
Edge Thought of the Week
Here’s your challenge for the week: Next time you ask ChatGPT to write that clever email subject line, immediately do something human afterward. Take a walk. Call your mom. Sit in front of a window and eat blueberries and think about your life for five minutes. (Just me? Cool.)
Whatever it is, do something that reminds you: you’re the one writing the story, even if AI is helping with the formatting.
I thought this was creative. And yes, perhaps we should be prompt engineering ourselves rather than ChatGPT! :)