AI is incredibly powerful. It can recognize patterns, generate ideas, write code, organize information, and produce things I would not have thought of myself.

For the modern worker, I think it’s better to use AI than not all. AI can automate repetitive work and help you get closer to creating something useful.

However, the problem begins when you outsource so much of your thinking and judgment to AI that you no longer understand or guide the work.

I’ve experienced this many times myself. Sometimes I can get into the trap of using AI to help me write out complex code at work. It gets the job done, but when I’m asked to affirm or double check the calculation, I struggle because I didn’t actually understand it. Then I have to go back and understand what exactly the code is doing. In doing so, sometimes I realize that AI actually overcomplicated it or that there was simpler way to just write it myself.

Recently, I’ve noticed many people making blanket statements of “use AI” or “don’t ever use AI”, and I wanted to address this with a few principles for how I use AI without letting it overtake my thinking.

1. Do the Thinking First, Then Let AI Accelerate It

This is probably the most important framework when using AI.

For coding, I often describe exactly how I want my code structured instead of having AI decide for me. For writing, I’ll use AI to brainstorm but then create my own rough draft before asking it to clean up the organization or grammar.

The goal isn’t to avoid AI. It’s to make sure I’m still the person making the important decisions.

2. Use AI to Generate Possibilities, Not Make Every Decision

Since AI has access to a huge amount of data and the internet, it is very good at giving you options. But this doesn’t mean you should let it choose for you.

If I’m creating content, I might ask AI for twenty article ideas. But I still decide which ones are interesting enough to pursue. Time and time again, AI comes up with unique ideas or perspectives I had not considered. But when it comes to actually writing, AI lacks the unique viewpoint that I or other authors ultimately bring to their writing.

AI can expand the possibility space. You still need to decide where to go.

3. Don’t Automate Decisions You Should Be Making Yourself

I recently saw YouTube videos and tutorials of people using AI agents such as OpenClaw to manage things like their calendars and daily priorities. It seems like they are being more efficient and productive, but the question remains:

Read more

Recently, I’ve been considering what we define as meaningful work.

Most of us don’t spend a second thought considering “why” we work. We spend a large portion of our lives working, but we view it as something we “have to do” to put food on the table and pay the bills. We consider the job’s pay, benefits, and flexibility, but don’t really stop to consider the value or impact of the work itself.

A different perspective is that people work because society needs people to build things, solve problems, care for others, and keep everything running. We need plumbers. We need trash picked up. We need the internet networks maintained. We need doctors. We need the police force. The world would fall apart without jobs. Yet I don’t think many of us stop to consider this:

What value is my work actually creating?

David Goggins, who I’ve written about recently [Working Hard vs. Working Smart - by Steven - Life Systems], came to mind while I was considering this. On the surface, Goggins continues to “harden his mind” by running ultramarathons and spending most of his days training. It’s a huge amount of effort, but it may not seem very useful in the traditional sense. He’s not building houses. He’s not discovering new medicine. He’s not inventing new technology.

Yet millions of people have been inspired by his work. The fact that Goggins is still training as hard as he is today inspires people and makes them feel less alone when they are training hard and fighting their own demons. If Goggins stopped training as hard as he does now, he wouldn’t be known as the “50-year-old” who still trains harder than people in their 20s and even professional athletes. His story would be less unique, and fewer people would be inspired by it. The running itself isn’t really where the value comes from. His hard work on himself is the vehicle through which Goggins inspires discipline, resilience, and confidence in other people.

That made me realize something. Maybe meaningful work isn’t only about what you tangibly produce or directly contribute to society. Maybe value can also be intangible. Every job seems to create value in some way. If you can get paid to do something and make a living from it, clearly people are receiving value from what you do. Sometimes the value is obvious: a plumber keeps homes functioning, a teacher helps students learn, and a software engineer builds tools. Other times, it’s less obvious. Someone making funny reaction videos on YouTube might not be building anything tangible, but they can still create value by entertaining millions of people.

The question then becomes:

Is this the value I want to provide?

People may be willing to pay for something, but that doesn’t necessarily mean it’s something you want to contribute to. If you want to help people become less addicted to their phones and spend less time on screens, then creating content that keeps people scrolling may not be the kind of value you want to provide. Whether you personally believe that’s a meaningful contribution is a different question. We all have different values.

That reminded me of an organization called 80,000 Hours [80,000 Hours], which had intrigued my interest last year and I had followed some of their articles and career suggestions. They explore the question of how to have the greatest impact through your career.

One argument they made intrigued me. Most people assume that becoming a doctor is one of the most beneficial careers you can have. But they argue that someone earning a high salary in another profession and donating a meaningful portion of their income to highly effective charities in developing countries could potentially provide basic preventive healthcare that saves more lives and has a greater overall impact. Whether they’re right or not isn’t really the point. The point is that meaningful work isn’t always as obvious as it first appears. What looks like the most meaningful career on the surface may not actually create the most value.

I’ve also realized that meaningful work isn’t just about helping society. It should also fit you. Some jobs naturally align with your strengths, interests, and personality better than others. Every career has parts you won’t enjoy, and all work has parts you won’t like. Meaningful work doesn’t mean liking every minute of your job. I think it means finding work where your strengths can create value for other people in a way that matters to you.

I’ve noticed that many people view work primarily as a way to pay the bills, find an easier job, or maximize vacation time. Those things certainly matter, but I’ve also tried to consider the question:

How does my work create value for other people, and is that meaningful to me?

Time and time again, I’ve considered the concept of working harder versus working smarter, and how to best combine the two.

I’ll use David Goggins as an example. David Goggins knows how to work hard. Really, really hard. There were many times in his life when he didn’t have the tools, resources, or people around him to help. All he knew was that he had to do something. He had to figure things out on his own and brute force his way through difficult situations.

Goggins has mentioned that he had a learning disability that made it extremely difficult for him to retain information. To pass the ASVAB test and join the military, he had to write out the dive manual over and over again in spiral notebooks until the information was essentially imprinted in his mind. He has even described remembering what page he had written something on to recall the answer.

All Goggins knew was to work. He couldn’t remember it, but if he wrote it enough times then maybe he could. Maybe there was a different way that Goggins could learn at the time that was more efficient, but maybe there wasn’t.

Goggins didn’t have those resources and all he knew was to take the same hammer and hit the nail harder. Maybe that approach was exactly what he needed to do at the time.

But sometimes, you reach a point where hitting the same nail harder with the same hammer isn’t the answer anymore. You need a different tool. I’ve come to this crossroad many times myself. There have been many times when I’ve been grinding away at something, only to eventually realize that I may need to step back and find a better or more efficient way of doing it.

Is this actually the best way to do this?

This is a difficult question to answer because sometimes working smarter involves admitting that something you’ve been doing for a while isn’t the best. It forces you to reevaluate your plans, and that can be unsettling. Sometimes it feels easier to just keep working harder. I know personally that I don’t always want to consider a different path and reconsider my plans because it plants doubt in my mind and brings up the fear that maybe I won’t be able to achieve the goal at all.

I’ve experienced this with the projects I’ve built on the side. I’ve spent time trying different ideas, building things, and attempting to make something work. Many times, I thought the answer was just to keep going. But more often than not, I’ve eventually had to make a hard pivot. Now, for example, I’m focusing more on growing an audience through this newsletter. I’ve gotten these insights from books I’ve read and advice from other people who have more experience than me. Maybe hitting the nail harder wasn’t the answer. Maybe I needed a different tool.

However, there is a key balance between overplanning and overoptimizing for perfection versus actually doing the work. That line can be difficult to draw. Personally, I like to spend some time upfront deciding on a course of action, then commit to executing it for around 90 days before stepping back and reevaluating. That way, I’m not falling into the traps of overthinking and perfectionism but also am not constantly pushing myself to work harder without stepping back and reevaluating.

For Goggins’ example, maybe reading the manual out loud could have helped him remember it more easily, or perhaps reading a paragraph and summarizing it would have worked just as well. Maybe he tried all those and it didn’t work. Maybe the method Goggins used was simply the one that worked best for him. My point is less about whether he could have done it differently and more about asking ourselves whether there might be a better tool available when we find ourselves repeatedly hitting the same nail.

The point is, there’s a difference between working hard and working smart, and sometimes our ego gets involved. If you pride yourself on working hard, it can be difficult to accept that someone else found a better way to do something. It may even stir up feelings of resentment or injustice when you see someone achieving what you want with seemingly less effort. But if you can get past that and learn from them, you may find a better way forward.

Ultimately, this would be a classic case of Ego is the Enemy: [LINK]

We’re all doing our best with what we have, but I think it’s important to balance action with reflection. Working smarter isn’t an excuse to avoid hard work, and sometimes you really do need to work harder. But every once in a while, it’s worth asking yourself:

Is there a better way to do what I’m doing, or am I just hitting the same nail harder?

Over the last few years, I’ve attended many networking events. From coffee chats to professional mixers and meetups. I’ve also reached out to professionals on LinkedIn to learn more about their careers and the work they do.

When I first started networking, I think I approached it the same way many people do.

How can this person help me?

Can they refer me?

Can they help me get a job?

There isn’t necessarily anything wrong with those questions. After all, networking often is about learning from others. But over time, I realized there was a different mindset that made networking make more sense and feel more genuine for me.

Instead of viewing networking as trying to get something from someone, I started viewing it as adding value.

For example, when someone gives you a referral to their company, they may not receive anything tangible in return. However, by providing you with that opportunity, they help you gain better skills that can provide value to the company and others.

When you network with other people, they share their experiences and perspectives, helping you make better decisions about your own career and life. By pointing you toward work that better fits your strengths, interests, and values, they help you become happier, more productive, and ultimately more capable of creating value yourself. Their willingness to spend time with you doesn’t just benefit one person. It creates a ripple effect, allowing you to contribute more to the people and organizations you’ll serve throughout your career.

That is my take on it, at least.

I’m happy to submit referrals for people I think would be a good fit. They could be a good candidate, but ATS resume filters out their resume. If I can get them an interview, then the company can decide for themselves if the candidate is a good fit.

I’m just giving them that opportunity, and there is no direct benefit to me and I’m not expecting anything in return.

However, if they’re hired and then contribute to the organization, that’s a positive outcome for everyone involved.

Society benefits in a small way.

That realization made me think differently about networking.

At the same time, creating value also means respecting the value that other people are already giving you.

When I schedule a coffee chat with someone on LinkedIn, I don’t want it to feel like I’m simply taking their time.

If they’re especially busy or further along in their career, I’ve occasionally offered to buy them a virtual cup of coffee by sending a Starbucks gift card.

It’s a small gesture, but it’s my way of acknowledging that their time has value.

More importantly, I genuinely enjoy learning from people.

As Bill Burnett and Dave Evans explain in Designing Your Life, a book I’ve written about before [LINK], one of the best ways to explore a potential career is to talk to people who are already doing the work. Rather than trying to predict whether you’ll enjoy a career, you can learn from someone who is already living it. Since humans are remarkably similar, their experience is often a much better predictor of what your own experience might be than your imagination alone.

I’ve had a couple of those conversations, and I’ve found them very valuable.

These conversations helped me adjust my path and challenge assumptions I’ve held. After every single one, I’ve always left with increased clarity and confidence.

When I network now, I no longer think of “What can I get from this person?”

Instead, I find myself asking, “How can we help each other?” “How can they help me so I can help others?”

It’s a small shift in thinking.

But I think it leads to better conversations, genuine intentions, and a healthier way of viewing networking.

I had no idea what to expect when picking up Ego Is the Enemy by Ryan Holiday, but after reading a few chapters, I became intrigued by the book. Ryan Holiday had also served as an apprentice under Robert Greene, who wrote 48 Laws of Power, and it was very interesting to me how that experience may have influenced some of the ideas behind Ego is the Enemy. However, to my satisfaction, I did not find too much similarity. In fact, one of the laws of power by Robert Greene was to take credit for other’s work after they have built it, while Holiday says instead to set aside your ego and create a canvas for others to paint on. Nevertheless, the underlying idea is that by helping others, they will depend on you and feel owed to you and subsequently, you will gain more power.

All that being said, Ego is the Enemy fascinated me, and here are my top takeaways.

To Be or To Do?

This is one of my favorite ideas in the book because it sounds simple, but is quite profound.

Holiday asks a simple question:

Do you want to be something?

Or do you want to do something?

At first, they sound similar, but if you think about it, aren’t the same. Being is about identity. Doing is about actually doing the work.

Though not directly tied together, a story from another book immediately came to mind while reading this.

Keith Ferrazzi, the author of Never Eat Alone, had a humble beginning but eventually graduated from Yale and earned an MBA from Harvard. He then served as CMO at Deloitte and at Starwood Hotels and Resorts. As an ambitious and impressively accomplished individual, his dream was to become the CEO of a Fortune 500 company.

However, Ferrazzi encountered some setbacks and eventually a close friend and adviser of his gave him advice that changed his thinking, and showed this principle in practice.

They told him to try being CEO of a smaller company, where he can actually grow with the company.

Yes, Ferrazzi wanted the prestige of a Fortune 500 company and it didn’t even occur to him to look elsewhere. But did he want to “be” a CEO or did he actually want to “do” the work of being a CEO, such as to lead, create impact, and create value from a company?

Eventually, Ferrazzi was offered the CEO position at YaYa Media in Los Angeles.

If Ferrazzi’s goal was simply to be the CEO of a Fortune 500 company, then he would be chasing the prestige attached to the title.

But since Ferrazzi’s goal was to do the work of leading people, building a company, and creating value, then the size of the company becomes much less important.

It was inspiring to read that Ferrazzi didn’t let his ego get to him and this actually helped me relate to and admire the author more.

Ask yourself these questions about your own career and goals:

Am I pursuing something because I genuinely enjoy the work?

Or because I like the identity that comes with it?

Don’t Tell Yourself a Story

This was another impactful idea for me.

Our brains naturally recognize patterns and try to connect things together. Especially when our ego is involved and we can make ourselves the hero.

We want to tell a story and let others know that it was planned-- that our hard work for a singular goal came to fruition-- when in reality we were unsure and tried different things, had a bit of luck, and eventually became successful at something that was similar to our goal.

It’s tempting to feed our ego by creating a story. But if we don’t face reality and see what happened clearly, it can cause delusion and cause us to lose track of what we actually did that got us to our success. By not feeding the ego, we get closer to the truth and are better able to see what went well or what could be improved.

Don’t tell yourself a story.

Be realistic, humble, and learn.

The Effort Is Enough

This final takeaway for me connected strongly with something I’ve written about before.

Holiday quotes Goethe:

“…do the right thing; whether the right thing comes to pass should not bother [you].”

That doesn’t mean outcomes don’t matter at all.

If you’re trying to build a business, teach people, or solve a problem, you should absolutely pay attention to whether your actions are producing the results you intended. Take your feedback seriously.

However, what shouldn’t change is your commitment to doing what you genuinely believe is right simply because it earns more approval or recognition.

When we become attached to praise, we start making decisions to protect our image instead of serving the work itself.

I’ve noticed the same idea in my own life.

The only thing I can truly control is the quality of my effort. If I am doing what I believe is right and doing my best, then I should not worry or try to control how other people receive it. If I set aside my ego, I should not change what I do to gain more praise from others, unless I believe that is the right thing to do.

The effort is enough. The results are not fully within my control.

Ironically, letting go of that attachment to results often makes it easier to focus on producing better work.

My Biggest Takeaway

What I appreciate most about Ego Is the Enemy is the practical wisdom it provided and a greater look into how our egos may be showing up more than we realize.

I could start to notice ways my ego was getting in the way of my own life. Or things I was doing to feed my ego.

It can be difficult to suppress the ego, but in doing so, sometimes pain associated with having an ego goes away because you no longer take things personal or think it’s about you.

Ego is more about appearing rather than becoming.

Do you actually want to “do” the work or do you just want to “be”?

Those are very important questions in life, career, and work.

I’m sure I will be reviewing Ryan Holiday’s book again and again.

If you’ve read the book, or are thinking about it, leave a comment below about what you think.

How does ego get in the way of your daily life?

As I’ve continued growing my career in data, moving from analytics toward data science, I’ve spent time talking with industry professionals to get a better idea of what was changing in the age of AI.

Like many people, I wanted to know:

What skills actually matter now?

What should I still learn?

And how is AI changing this?

One professional I spoke with, a data scientist at Microsoft, gave me a simple piece of advice.

AI can now do things such as exploratory data analysis and hypothesis testing quicker and better than you can, so you should learn things such as RAG, LangChain or LangGraph to learn how to work with AI and AI agents.

His advice, albeit somewhat simplified, was this:

Learn hypothesis testing and all the basics of statistical analysis if you don’t know it.

Learn the fundamentals of Python if you don’t know it.

Learn SQL if you don’t know it.

Understand how data manipulation and transformation can be translated between Python, R and SQL (I plan to write more about this in the future).

But once you have the basics down, focus on learning how to work with AI.

Learn things like RAG, LangChain, LangGraph, and AI agents.

His point was not that the fundamentals no longer matter.

It was that AI is becoming increasingly capable at many of the routine tasks that data professionals spend time doing.

AI Is Very Good at Executing Work

I use AI when building projects.

It’s very useful and allows me to move faster than ever before.

I expect that trend to continue.

However, as I started using AI more, I noticed something interesting.

The bottleneck was no longer execution.

The bottleneck became deciding what should be done in the first place.

AI Still Struggles With Judgment

Every time I think AI is ready to replace human judgment, I run into another example where it falls short.

Not because it’s unintelligent, but because it lacks context.

For example, imagine you’re integrating a new dashboard into an existing reporting system.

The AI can build charts, summarize data, and even suggest visualizations.

But then a simple question comes up.

What color should this graph be?

That sounds trivial.

But maybe another report already uses a specific color scheme.

Maybe users have become accustomed to certain conventions, there are accessibility requirements, or leadership specifically requested consistency across reports years ago.

The answer isn’t in the data.

It’s in the context.

Humans carry around years of organizational knowledge that never appears in a database.

I remember countless situations at work where someone says:

“Didn’t Sarah work on something similar a few years ago?” or “We tried that approach before and here’s why it didn’t work.”

That information lives inside people, and AI cannot easily access that context.

And even if it could, someone still needs to determine what information matters.

Domain Knowledge Is Becoming More Important

As AI becomes better at generating outputs, understanding the business becomes a bigger differentiator.

Anyone can generate a SQL query, build a model, or create a dashboard. The harder questions are: “Is this solving the right problem?”, “Will anyone actually use it?”, and “Will this change a decision?”

These questions require understanding people, organizations, incentives, and goals.

There Are Practical Constraints Too

There are also real-world limitations that people sometimes ignore.

Many organizations work with sensitive information such as healthcare data, financial records, personally identifiable information and Internal business documents.

You cannot simply upload everything into a public AI model and hope for the best.

Even when organizations build internal AI systems, somebody still needs to determine what data can be used, how it should be accessed, and whether the outputs can be trusted.

Again, that comes back to judgment.

What I Think Happens Next

I don’t think AI is replacing data professionals, but I do think it’s changing what data professionals spend their time doing.

There will be less time spent writing repetitive code, generating basic analyses, and performing routine tasks.

More time will be spent evaluating outputs, understanding business context, communicating recommendations and making decisions.

However, the technical skills still matter, and one should still make sure the understand the fundamentals.

But increasingly, those skills become the foundation rather than the differentiator.

The differentiator becomes knowing what questions to ask, what problems are worth solving, and whether the answers actually make sense.

AI can generate outputs, but humans still provide judgment.

I’m going to take a step away from data and write about personal development again.

Through other authors I follow, Tony Robbin’s Awaken the Giant Within popped up several times. One author even credited it as the book that “started his journey.”

As a personal development enthusiast, I had to check it out for myself.

I didn’t know what to expect as I knew Tony Robbins in passing as someone with high energy seminars and getting people excited.

I expected motivation, maybe some hype and fluff. But what I found instead was a wealth of logic and practical ideas about psychology, behavior, and how we interpret our experiences.

In fact, the book was written in 1991 but reads like the present day which shows great timelessness of its message.

The book was filled with so much impactful advice, I ended up rereading portions of it and taking notes to apply in my own life.

Here are some of my most important takeaways.

You Decide the Rules for Success

One idea that challenged my thinking was how we define success and what rules must happen for us to feel happiness.

Tony argues that we create the rules that determine whether we feel successful or unsuccessful.

At first, I resisted this idea.

I used to think that if I lowered my standards or made goals easier, I would achieve less. I thought the key to achievement was constantly raising the bar.

But I’ve noticed the opposite can happen.

When I create impossible standards, I rarely feel successful. No matter what I accomplish, there is always another target waiting.

However, when I create smaller targets and hit them, I actually become more motivated and can end up accomplishing even more.

Winning creates momentum.

Instead of feeling like I am constantly behind, I feel like I am moving forward.

Using encouragement instead of punishment empowers you to grow rather than keeping you stuck.

Your Confidence Comes From References

One of the most interesting concepts in the book is what Tony calls “references.”

References are simply experiences you’ve accumulated throughout your life.

Your brain uses those experiences to determine how it should interpret a situation.

For example, someone who has given hundreds of presentations has a very different reference for public speaking than someone who has never stepped on stage.

The experienced speaker may still feel nervous, but they also perceive the speech and the stage differently through the references they have from their prior experiences. Now they’re thinking about where to pace, how to address the audience, what hook to lead with.

Their confidence comes from experience.

I noticed this in my own life with salsa dancing.

When I first started trying some intro classes about six months ago, I felt uncertain and uncomfortable. Walking into a room full of strangers and dancing was far outside my comfort zone.

Now I found a way to enjoy it.

The activity didn’t change, but I had new references for it.

My brain now associates salsa dancing with fun, learning, and positive experiences instead of uncertainty.

That idea made me realize how important it is to actively seek new experiences, as Tony emphasizes.

For example, he recommends talking to people in a nursing home and you’ll gain a different perspective on aging and life, that you wouldn’t have otherwise.

Visit a museum and you’ll develop a deeper appreciation for history.

Go solo camping and you’ll experience what it feels like to disconnect from technology and reconnect with nature.

Travel somewhere unfamiliar.

Take a class.

Try something you’ve been putting off.

Every experience becomes another reference point that shapes how you see the world.

Tony’s advice is simple: collect as many empowering references as possible.

The more experiences you have, the more perspectives you can draw from.

Your Actions Reveal Your Values

Finally, another concept that resonated with me greatly and prompted a lot of self-reflection was that your values are always speaking to you through your feelings and actions.

Maybe you can tell me what you value on the surface level.

But do you live by your values? Do you even notice when you are?

Tony suggests looking at your actions rather than your intentions.

Your actions reveal what is truly important to you.

That can be uncomfortable.

Sometimes we discover that what we say we value and how we actually spend our time don’t align.

Sometimes your feelings will notify you of something not quite feeling right. That could indicate a misalignment between your action and value.

I’ve experienced this myself.

Have you ever worked hard toward a goal and still felt unsatisfied once you reached it?

I know I have.

Often, that feeling comes from pursuing something that doesn’t align with your deeper values.

For example, if honesty is one of your core values but you’re constantly being dishonest with yourself or others, something feels off.

If freedom matters deeply to you but you’ve built a life that feels restrictive, you’ll likely feel internal conflict.

I’m still exploring this area myself.

But the more I think about values, the more I uncover my own.

Values subconsciously help you decide what opportunities to pursue.

They help you determine what tradeoffs are worth making.

And perhaps most importantly, they help you find people who share similar values.

My Biggest Takeaway

One of the biggest lessons I took from Awaken the Giant Within is that many of the experiences we have in life are shaped by the meaning we assign to them.

The rules we create, the references we draw upon, and the values we choose to live by.

Those things influence how we feel about our lives far more than what actually happens.

I picked up this book curious about what Tony Robbins had written. I finished it with a renewed appreciation for his work and a handful of ideas that continue to influence how I think. More than 30 years after it was written, many of its lessons still feel surprisingly relevant today.

Over the last few months, I’ve used AI throughout when building data science projects.

At first, I could move faster than ever before. I could ask the AI to make the best choice, generate code quickly, debug issues faster, and get explanations for concepts that would have previously taken hours of searching through documentation or forums.

But after spending enough time building projects this way, I started realizing something important:

AI can seem to dramatically accelerate learning, but it can also be wrong, misleading, and unhelpful in assisting you with actual learning.

Here are some of the biggest lessons I learned.

1. Understanding Is Everything

The most important thing I realized is that understanding matters the most.

AI could suggest dropping missing values, using target encoding, selecting a specific model, or applying a certain preprocessing technique. And often, the suggestions were reasonable.

But if I could not explain why I was doing something, then I did not really understand the project.

Why did I choose target encoding instead of one hot encoding?
Why did I remove certain columns?
Why was this metric more important than another?

I understood it on a high level, but when asked to dig deeper, I realized that I might have chosen differently.

In data science especially, understanding is what separates real skill from surface level imitation.

2. AI Can Help Tremendously With Understanding

At the same time, AI became one of the best learning tools I have ever used.

The key difference was how I used it.

Instead of trusting what the AI suggests, I started to question it and treat it more like a tutor. I would challenge its reasoning. I would ask why one approach was better than another and keep digging deeper. I would do my own separate research and decide for myself. Many times, I realized the AI’s approach may not have been best and it would change its output based off the context I gave it.

However, the process was still incredibly valuable.

It helped me connect ideas faster and exposed gaps in my understanding that I might not have noticed otherwise.

The important part was that I stayed actively involved in the thinking process.

3. Understanding Takes Much Longer Than You Think

One thing AI made me realize is how long strong understanding actually takes.

Sometimes I felt like I understood a project because the AI explanations made everything sound simple and clean. But later, when I tried explaining the project myself or answering deeper questions about it, I realized my understanding was still shallow.

I understood the high-level flow.
But not the deeper reasoning.

That distinction matters, especially in job interviews.

Real understanding means being able to explain decisions, defend tradeoffs, troubleshoot problems, and adapt the project without relying on the AI to hold everything together.

And that takes time.

4. AI’s Speed Creates an Illusion

One subtle danger of AI is that its speed tricks your brain into thinking the concepts themselves are simple.

Complex ideas suddenly appear in seconds.

Pipelines. Feature engineering. Model tuning. Neural networks.

Because the answers arrive instantly, it becomes easy to underestimate how much depth actually exists underneath them.

But speed of access is not the same as speed of mastery.

The concepts are still difficult.
The understanding still needs to be built gradually.

AI simply compresses the distance between questions and information. Just because it is simple to the AI, does not mean it is simple to the human.

5. Use AI as a Thinking Partner

The best results came when I treated AI as an assistant, who could be wrong.

It helped me brainstorm approaches.
It helped me debug faster.
It helped me understand concepts more clearly.

But I still needed to think critically, make most of the decisions, and understand the reasoning behind the work.

That balance became one of the biggest takeaways from the entire experience of using AI.

AI can help you accelerate your learning, but only if you stay mentally engaged in the process instead of outsourcing your thinking entirely.

Recently, I experimented with building an AI tutor for chess.

The idea came from a real problem I kept running into. I would look at engine lines after a game and not fully understand them. I wanted something that felt like a coach, something that could explain why a move was better than the other instead of just stating it is.

In the beginning, I built the tutor to calculate common chess concepts such as king safety, material imbalances, pawn structure, and piece activity, and evaluate and explain the position based off those concepts.

It worked, at least on a very surface level. It could describe positions in a way that sounded reasonable. It could point out ideas that were technically correct.

But as I kept iterating and testing it, I noticed that the AI could not get any deeper and the complexity of chess became apparent to me. There were a million different explanations—how could the AI determine which was most important for the user to understand? Additionally, different users think in different ways.

In fact, the AI tool didn’t actually help my understanding by much. When I got into more complex positions, I still had to slow down and work through the moves myself. There were too many variations. Too many possibilities. The AI could not reliably decide which lines actually mattered for my understanding.

And more importantly, I started to notice something about my own mistakes.

As an experienced chess player, most of my losses were not because I did not know something.

It was because I failed to recognize and apply it in the moment.

The knowledge was there, but the application was not.

That was the real problem.

And that is not something an AI can fix for you.

Because at the end of the day, your brain has to do the thinking.

There is no shortcut for that.

I was reminded of something from Cal Newport. He talks about a concept called active recall. The idea is simple. You sit with a blank page and try to solve or recall something from scratch without looking at the answer.

It feels slow. It feels uncomfortable. But that struggle is what actually builds understanding. I’ve tried it when I studied for tests in college. It revealed my weaknesses right away and made me much better prepared for the exam.

The same thing applies to chess.

Real improvement comes from:

• sitting with confusion

• struggling through positions

• calculating variations in your head

• building intuition over time

AI can drill you on the most impactful parts and guide you to the answer, but it also removes part of that process.

AI can make learning feel faster. It can make things feel clearer in the moment. But clarity is not the same as understanding.

You can follow an explanation and still not be able to apply it on your own.

That is the difference.

AI is still very useful.

It can point you in the right direction, highlight your weaknesses, and give you explanations without needing to search through books or ask a coach.

It can guide your thinking, but it cannot replace it.

You still need to sit with the board, work through the positions, and build the mental patterns yourself.

Fast answers do not equal deep understanding.

I see the same pattern outside of chess too.

People use AI to write essays, to generate code, to solve problems quickly.

That can be helpful if you already understand what is going on and just want to move faster.

But if you skip the process of thinking, writing, and struggling, you lose something important.

You’ll retain less, understand less, and develop weaker intuition.

Over time, that shows up.

The goal is not to avoid effort.

It is to direct it.

Good systems do not eliminate effort. They focus it on the parts that matter most.

AI can be part of that system.

But it should not replace your thinking, it should support it.

Use AI to guide your learning, expose blind spots, and to move faster where it makes sense.

But when it comes to real understanding, you still have to do the work yourself.

That part does not change.

Not too long ago, I started learning more about Y Combinator and Paul Graham. As my interest in entrepreneurship and building matured, I became curious about the people who shaped thinking in that space.

A friend recommended Paul Graham’s essay How to Do Great Work. At first, I was skeptical. But after taking the time to read and really digest it, I found it filled with intriguing and thought-provoking ideas. It didn’t feel like another productivity guide or step-by-step framework. It felt more honest. More patient. Almost uncomfortable in how long-term its perspective was.

Here are a few takeaways that stuck with me.

One of the biggest ideas in the essay is that there’s no clear formula for doing great work. You can’t really reverse engineer it. A lot of it involves timing and luck. Instead, your main goal is to make yourself as lucky as possible to end up doing it.

Luck, in this context, isn’t passive. It’s the result of showing up consistently, building skill, following curiosity, and staying close to interesting problems long enough for opportunity to find you.

Another point that resonated with me was how long it can take to know whether you truly like something or whether you’re good at it. I used to think you would know after a few days or weeks if you enjoyed something. But Graham suggests you might have to work at something for years before you really understand your relationship with it.

That idea feels both reassuring and unsettling.

Reassuring because it means uncertainty is normal. If my interest in a topic sparks and fades over months, that is normal. Unsettling because time is limited, and you can lose years by chance depending on the field you end up in.

Paul Graham also emphasizes using your youth well. When you are younger, you often have more energy, optimism, flexibility, and freedom. That feels true, but also slightly disheartening. We do not like to think about having less energy as we age. Or less flexibility if we take on greater responsibilities.

Still, youth is a time to explore. To build. To experiment. But not to intentionally waste time.

Exploration does not mean drifting. It means trying things seriously enough to learn from them, even if you eventually move on.

Another idea that stood out was that deciding what to work on may be more important than actually solving the problem itself. Choosing the right field, the right questions, and the right direction sets the ceiling for the impact of your work.

Graham mentions that a good field should become more interesting the deeper you go. If learning more makes you less curious, that is probably a signal. Great work tends to happen at the frontiers of knowledge, at the edges where you are pushing slightly beyond what is known.

There was also a subtle but important distinction about rules.

Break rules with your ideas. Do not be overly constrained by prestige, fashion, or what is currently popular. Some of the most important problems are unfashionable at first.

But at the same time, be strict about how you execute. Be rigorous in your thinking. Be careful at the edges of your models. Be honest about what you know and what you do not know.

Paul Graham also downplays the value of rigid planning. Planning by itself is not very effective. We mainly create and share plans for coordination, feedback, and momentum. The real progress comes from doing the work and adjusting as you learn.

And finally, the most consistent thread running through the essay:

Follow your curiosity.

At each stage of life, do what seems most interesting to you while keeping your future options open. Curiosity is often a better compass than external pressure or conventional definitions of success.

Reading this essay did not make me feel rushed. It made me feel patient.

It reminded me that great work is not about speed or optimization. It is about depth, commitment, and staying with something long enough for it to compound.

I am glad I discovered Paul Graham. His thinking is something I look forward to continuing to learn from.

I read Million Dollar Weekend by Noah Kagan last year when I was reflecting on my side hustle attempts. I had paused for some time to evaluate my actions, and I picked up the book before jumping back into action.

I didn’t really know what to expect. The book had been recommended by a few authors, and I was curious what practical value it would offer.

What stood out immediately was how action-oriented it was. The book constantly pushes you toward quick execution.

The core idea is simple:

Stop overthinking. Start doing.

That sounds almost too obvious. But most people, myself included, spend months or even years planning ideas in isolation. We build in private. We refine logos. We tweak websites. We try to perfect the concept before anyone ever sees it.

Kagan flips that entirely.

Instead of building first, you validate demand first.
Instead of assuming demand, you ask for it.
Instead of hiding, you put yourself out there.

And that can be uncomfortable.

One of the biggest takeaways for me was realizing how much we avoid rejection. We tell ourselves we’re “still preparing,” when really we’re just avoiding the possibility that someone might say no.

The book emphasizes making direct offers early. Ask someone to pay. Ask someone if they want the service. Ask someone what their biggest problem is.

Not someday.
Now. As soon as possible.

That resonated with me because it forced me to see how easy it is to stay in learning mode instead of execution mode. Reading about business feels productive. Planning feels productive. But neither actually tests reality.

Kagan talks a lot about momentum. Small wins compound. A simple email asking for feedback can lead to a paid customer. A quick experiment can reveal whether an idea is viable.

And often, it all starts with a conversation.

Another idea that stood out was the concept of “freedom money.” Not making as much money as possible, but defining a realistic number that would give you more control over your time. Once that number is clear, the goal feels tangible. Suddenly the steps toward it feel motivating instead of abstract.

Build something that solves a real problem.
Charge for it.
Improve it.
Repeat.

There’s also an underlying theme of courage throughout the book.

The courage to send the message.
The courage to ask for the sale.
The courage to risk looking inexperienced.

Most people aren’t failing because they lack ideas. They’re failing because they avoid discomfort.

Reading the book made me reflect on my own tendencies. I like thinking. I like analyzing. I like mapping out possibilities. But entrepreneurship rewards action, not internal clarity.

This ties in with other entrepreneurship books I’ve read: you can’t perfectly plan the path because you don’t actually know where it leads. You discover that through movement.

(I will write more about this in future articles)

Instead of obsessing over finding the perfect idea, test decent ones.
Instead of waiting until you feel ready, build a small prototype.

Instead of building silently, talk to real people.

Action clarifies.
Feedback refines.
Momentum compounds.

That’s what I took away from Million Dollar Weekend.

One practical takeaway: try the “coffee challenge,” where you ask for 10 percent off your coffee. I really didn’t want to do it, but I made myself do it. It’s not about the discount. It’s about getting experience using the muscle of asking for what you want.

And in entrepreneurship, that muscle can make all the difference.

I recently reread The Four Agreements by Don Miguel Ruiz because its simplicity intrigued me. It’s one of those books that feels easy to read, but remarkably hard to internalize.

This isn’t just another “self-help book.” It’s a guide with principles on how to live and think. It’s clear, concise, and practical, but only if you apply the ideas instead of just memorizing them.

Here’s what stuck with me.

1. Be Impeccable With Your Word

At its core, this agreement is about integrity.

Not just in what you say to others, but how you talk to yourself.

Words aren’t just about communication, they imply meaning. They shape how you see yourself, how others see you, and what you believe is possible.

If you constantly tell yourself you’re “not enough,” eventually your behavior will catch up with that story. But if you choose words that reflect honesty and respect, you create a different feedback loop.

This agreement forces you to notice the energy you put into your inner world. Are you using words to cut yourself down or build yourself up? The real power here isn’t perfection with your word, but rather awareness about how you are using it.

2. Don’t Take Anything Personally

This one was a gamechanger for me.

I used to assume other’s behavior toward me had something to do with me. But Ruiz flips that assumption on its head: what other people say or do is a reflection of their worldview, not your worth.

That doesn’t mean rejection doesn’t sting. It does. But it means you don’t have to carry someone else’s behavior as a definition for yourself.

When you stop internalizing every reaction around you, you gain emotional freedom. You stop reacting and start responding. You start operating from a place of love and abundance instead of fear and insecurity. You better understand other people and their behavior when you don’t take anything personally.

3. Don’t Make Assumptions

I’ve made this mistake many times.

We fill in blanks in our head based on little evidence. For example, “They didn’t text back, so they must be mad at me.” and suddenly we’re living in a drama that we created ourselves.

Ruiz says assumptions create suffering because you think you know the story when you really don’t. Think back to how many times you had assumed something that seemed obvious, only to realize it was completely a different case? I know I have many times. The antidote is simple: ask, communicate, and be curious about the truth instead of inventing a narrative. But even then, you may not still know the whole truth.

4. Always Do Your Best

This agreement ties everything together.

Doing your best isn’t about perfection. It’s not a rigid standard or a rule you must follow. Your best changes day to day depending on how you feel, what’s happening in your life, and where your energy is at.

On a good day, your best might be thorough and intentional. On a tough day, your best might be just showing up at all. And that’s enough.

The point isn’t to outperform others but rather to act with presence and effort in whatever moment you’re in. That’s how you avoid regret, self-judgment, and the feeling that you let life simply happen to you.

Doing your best allows you to live with intention and to have little regret.

Why This Book Matters in Real Life

The Four Agreements isn’t about mastering ancient wisdom perfectly. It’s about noticing when you drift away from your authentic self—and having the tools and awareness to correct course.

They aren’t commandments. They’re reflections, habits, and awareness practices. They help you question old stories you tell yourself and replace them with something closer to reality.

The real transformation comes from when you:

• notice when you’re triggered instead of reacting

• choose words that reflect truth instead of fear

• ask real questions instead of assuming answers

• give your best without beating yourself up over the outcome

Read these agreements. Notice where you struggle with them. Apply them gently and patiently.

That’s where real change actually happens.

I recently read two books that, on the surface, may seem very different.

Designing Your Life by Bill Burnett and Dave Evans
and
Four Thousand Weeks: Time Management for Mortals by Oliver Burkeman.

Both fit loosely in the “life and time management” category, but they approach it from different directions. One is a more practical and action-oriented career book. The other is more philosophical.

Yet, after I read both books and found myself reflecting on them, I noticed an underlying theme present in both.

As someone who’s been a chronic career evaluator, I chose to read Designing Your Life to gain insight into my own career decisions. I also wanted to challenge myself to not just read the book, but also actually try to do the exercises. For example, I mapped out multiple possible lives I could imagine living, as the book suggested. I reached out to a couple people in different career roles I was envisioning and invited them to coffee chats. I found ways to soft-test ideas instead of just thinking about them.

I noticed I learned more from applying the concepts in the book than from simply consuming them.

Four Thousand Weeks fascinated me in a different way. An author I follow recommended it, and it helped me realize the insignificance and brevity of life.

This is the idea I noticed between the two books.

The title Four Thousand Weeks already throws a hint. If you’re lucky, that’s roughly how many weeks you get. A blink of an eye when you zoom out to the universe.

Designing Your Life emphasizes the same reality.

What struck me most is the authors’ insistence that there isn’t just one “right” life for you. Life design is less about “finding your passion” but more about choosing between several good lives you could live. You might become a successful doctor. Or instead, you might go on a completely different route and build a nonprofit around a cause you care deeply about. Or you might end up doing something entirely different and still find meaning in it.

The problem isn’t a lack of options.
The problem is time.

You only get to live one life at a time. And you can’t fully commit to multiple paths simultaneously and do them well.

So, the question moves from “What is my passion?” and leans more toward “Which life am I willing to commit to?”

Four Thousand Weeks approaches this same idea from a more philosophical angle. Burkeman makes it clear that you simply cannot do, be, or experience everything you want in a single lifetime. Even in relationships, he points out that commitment requires “settling.” But the uncomfortable truth is that you’re always settling anyway — whether you admit it or not.

Every yes is a no to something else.

You have to let go of things you’ll never be great at. You have to stop trying to optimize everything in your life. You have to accept that you are, in the grand scheme of things, insignificant.

And paradoxically, that realization can be freeing.

While Four Thousand Weeks focuses more on the philosophy of brevity and limitation, Designing Your Life is a career book packed with action steps.

However, both share a common theme.

Because your time is limited, you should choose intentionally. Design your life instead of drifting into it. Eliminate what doesn’t matter so you can commit fully to what does.

Four Thousand Weeks helps give you a new mindset.

Designing Your Life helps give you action steps for your career.

Together, they share an underlying theme.

You don’t need to find the perfect life.
You need to choose one and show up for it.

At first glance, David Goggins doesn’t seem like someone who lives by feelings.

He’s known as the “hardest man alive.”
He’s the guy who runs ultramarathons on broken feet.
He takes almost no days off and trains almost constantly.

David Goggins is all about telling his “quitting” mind to shut up and his body to keep going.

Logically, it looks like he’s doing the opposite of listening to his feelings. When he doesn’t feel like it, he goes anyway. When his mind tells him to stop, he deliberately tries to override it.

So on the surface, it seems like Goggins is all logic, all discipline, and no emotion.

But if you actually listen to him, in his interviews he talks about how life is all about feelings. And that he is chasing that feeling of true accomplishment, for himself.

At first, that sounds contradictory.
But the more I considered it, the more it made sense.

Goggins isn’t rejecting feelings altogether. He’s rejecting short-term feelings in service of a deeper one.

When Goggins talks about why he does what he does, it’s rarely about metrics or achievements. It’s about how it feels to know he didn’t quit. How it feels to respect himself. How it feels to look someone in the eye with confidence because he knows, without question, that he did the work.

All that suffering.
All that discipline.
All that discomfort.

It’s all in pursuit of a feeling.

A brief but powerful feeling of victory.
Of becoming who he wanted to become. From overcoming the odds of who he was to become who he is today.

When Goggins ignores the feeling of “I don’t want to do this,” he’s not ignoring his feeling. He’s choosing which feeling matters more.

I’ve noticed the same thing in my own life.

When I try to stay disciplined, I’m often avoiding short-term feelings of comfort, distraction, or the path of least resistance. But there needs to be a longer-term feeling underneath it all for me. A feeling of meaning or accomplishment.

Without that deeper guiding emotion, my feelings would eventually push back. They’d start asking whether I’m on the right path or whether something feels off. And without a compelling answer, it would be hard to justify overriding short-term emotions with discipline in the first place.

In the moment, discipline looks like logic overriding emotion.
But look at the big picture, and it’s emotion driving the entire thing.

It’s difficult to stay disciplined over long periods of time simply by forcing yourself. You can’t just push yourself task after task forever. Eventually, your feelings will stop you unless there’s a greater meaning behind the effort.

So maybe life isn’t about mind over feelings after all.
Maybe it’s about learning which ones to listen to.

Short-term feelings will always tell you to stop, slow down, or stay comfortable. Long-term feelings ask a harder question:

Who do you want to be when this is over?

David Goggins understands this well. He avoids short-term feelings that sabotage his discipline, but ultimately, he’s chasing the feeling that comes from becoming who he wants to be.

That feeling doesn’t last forever.
But it lasts long enough to make the work worth it.

So maybe life really is about feelings.
Not comfort.
Not ease.

But the feeling that only comes after you show up fully.
Even when you didn’t feel like it.

While I was growing up, I thought life purpose was something inherent — something already inside you that you eventually discover.

I imagined that one day I’d wake up, have a moment of clarity, and suddenly everything would make sense.
This is what I’m meant to do.

The idea sounds nice on paper.
But chances are, you won’t get one big “aha” moment. And even if you do, your purpose will likely change as you change.

The belief that purpose is something you’re supposed to discover is also why so many people feel stuck. They’re waiting for that moment when it all clicks, when they finally “figure out” what they want to do.

I struggled with this myself. I bounced between interests and career paths, unsure which one was the right choice. But after reading several books on career, life purpose, and designing your life, I noticed a consistent message show up again and again:

Instead of discovering your purpose, try designing it.

Most people wait for purpose to show up before they act.
But for most of us, it usually works the other way around.

You act first.
You try things.
You follow curiosity.
You notice what drains you and what gives you energy.

And over time, meaning starts to form around what you consistently choose.

Think about it.

Very few people start out knowing exactly what they want to do with their life. Even the people who seem “called” to something often refine it over years. Their purpose changes shape. It matures.

What looks like clarity in hindsight was usually experimentation in real time.

On top of that, in today’s world, you also need to make a living. What you “enjoy doing most” may not always be able to support you financially right away.

Designing your purpose is different.
It’s about taking what you’re interested in and combining it with how you can create value or impact in the world.

Design assumes iteration instead of getting it right the first time.
It assumes feedback.
It assumes you’ll get things wrong.

Instead of asking, “What is my purpose?”
A better set of questions might be:

What kind of problems do I want to work on right now?
What skills do I want to develop?
What kind of person do I want to become?

Those questions are actionable.

Purpose isn’t something you stumble upon.
It’s something that emerges from alignment.

Alignment between:

• what you care about

• what you’re good at (or willing to get good at)

• how you actually spend your days

That’s why purpose often feels clearer after you commit to something, not before.

In fact, I’d argue that life is largely about chasing that feeling you get when you know you’re on the right path — even if you can’t fully explain why yet. Check out my article: Why Life is all about Feelings

And yes, you might design something that stops fitting you later.

That’s not failure.
That’s growth.

Your purpose at 25 doesn’t have to be your purpose at 45. The mistake is thinking it has to be permanent.

Purpose is less like a destination and more like a direction.

You pick a direction.
You walk.
You adjust.

So if you’re feeling lost, stop waiting for a revelation.

In a world that’s changing this quickly, clinging to a single long-term purpose often can’t keep up anyway.

Start building something that feels meaningful for now.
Design your days.
Design your habits.
Design your environment.

Purpose will catch up.

Not because you found it.
But because you created it.

This is something that took me a while to really understand, but once it clicked, it changed how I approached things.

Early on, I used to focus a lot on outcomes. Did I make progress toward my goal? Am I doing the wrong thing? Am I going too slow? And after reading some productivity books and seeing from my own experience, I realized that the outcome was never fully in my control to begin with.

Because at the end of the day, you don’t actually control whether you achieve the result you want. No matter how long you train at basketball, or how much time you spend in the gym, you don’t actually control whether you will make it to the NBA or win a body builder award.

That might sound discouraging at first, but it’s actually freeing.

What you do control is what you do on a day to day basis and how you show up.

So instead of feeling frustrated that you aren’t reaching the outcome that you desire, the better question becomes:
What am I doing every day that moves me closer to this goal?

That’s where your power lives.

Your actions don’t actually dictate your results.
They only influence them.

That distinction matters.

A lot of times people will throw up their hands and say, “well then, what does it matter what I do?” No, it’s important to know your actions do influence your results. It’s to move from focusing on the outcome to focusing on the process, regardless of what the outcome is. Keep in mind that you do want to reevaluate what you are doing on a day to day basis to make sure you aren’t just spinning your wheels, but the point is to focus on building the habits, routines, and behaviors that bring you closer to your goals.

Think in terms of alignment.

Are your daily actions aligned with the person who gets the result you want?

If you say you want to be a professional basketball player, are you actually practicing every day? Are you training, studying the game, taking care of your body? Because someone who “deserves” that result is doing those things consistently — not perfectly, but consistently.

You still might not make it. Injuries happen. Opportunities don’t always show up. Life interferes.

But you did influence the outcome in the strongest way available to you.

And here’s the benefit most people miss: when you make peace with the fact that there are many things you can’t control, you stop fighting reality all the time. You waste less energy on frustration and more on execution. You flow better. You show up calmer. You keep going longer.

Results become less about forcing and more about positioning.

So focus on the inputs.
Trust the process.
Act like the person who earns the outcome you want.

And even if you don’t achieve the exact outcome you want, remember this inspirational quote: “Shoot for the moon. Even if you miss, you’ll land among the stars.”

Remember, your actions don’t dictate your results, they only influence them. But more than you think.

Subscribe now