Have You Ever Had That Feeling?

You know the one I’m talking about. You’re reading about some ancient civilization like the Egyptians or the Mayans and there’s this nagging feeling in the back of your mind. Like they knew something we don’t.

I’m not talking about aliens building pyramids or anything crazy like that. But something real. Something we’ve somehow… lost?

Take the way they built things. These weren’t just random piles of stone. They’re aligned with stars, with solstices, with patterns we’re only now starting to understand again. And it makes you wonder—were they just really good at math, or were they tuned into something we’ve forgotten how to hear?

We’re Too Busy to Wonder Anymore

Honestly, when’s the last time you woke up thinking about the mysteries of the universe? I wake up to my phone buzzing with Slack notifications and a mental list of stuff I need to get done.

Most days feel like I’m just… grinding. Checking boxes. Hitting deadlines. And for what? Half the work I do feels completely disconnected from anything that actually matters.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying we should go back to living in caves. But somewhere along the way, we traded wonder for productivity. We stopped asking big questions because we got too busy optimizing small processes.

We used to move with the seasons. Now we live in quarters. We used to think in cycles. Now everything’s about growth, scale, disruption.

And honestly? I’m tired.

AI Panic (But Maybe It’s Not What We Think)

So now we’ve got AI coming, and everyone’s freaking out. “It’s going to take our jobs!” “Humans will be obsolete!” “The end is near!”

And yeah, okay, some of that fear makes sense. Change is scary. People will get displaced. It’s going to be messy.

But what if we’re looking at this all wrong?

Most of the jobs AI might replace, let’s be honest, they’re not exactly fulfilling the human spirit. Data entry, processing invoices, writing corporate emails that could have been a two-line text. How much of what we call “work” is actually just… busy work?

What if AI isn’t here to replace us, but to free us from the stuff that’s been numbing us to death?

What Do We Do With Freedom?

Here’s the thing that keeps me up at night: If machines can handle all the repetitive, soul-crushing tasks, what do we do with ourselves?

Because let’s face it, most of us have forgotten how to just… be. How to sit still. How to wonder about things without immediately Googling the answer.

Kids ask the best questions: Why is the sky blue? What makes music sound good? What are dreams made of? And somewhere along the way, we learn to stop asking. We get practical. We get busy.

But what if we could ask those questions again? What if we had time to really dig into them?

The Ancients Weren’t Stupid

I used to think people in the past were just less informed than us. No internet, no satellites, no fancy instruments, they must have been making stuff up, right?

But then you learn that the Great Pyramid encodes mathematical relationships we’re still studying. That ancient Sanskrit texts describe the speed of light with scary accuracy. That some tribal cultures knew about astronomical phenomena we only confirmed last century.

How?

Maybe they weren’t looking at screens all day. Maybe they were looking at the sky. At plants. At water. At each other. Maybe they had time to notice patterns we’re too distracted to see.

I’m not saying they had all the answers. But they were asking different questions. Better questions, maybe.

A Different Kind of Renaissance

Here’s what I’m imagining: What if this AI thing isn’t the end of human relevance, but the beginning of something new?

Picture this, machines running the boring systems while humans get back to exploring the big mysteries. Not just in labs with billion-dollar equipment, but in forests. In meditation. In the spaces between thoughts.

What if your job could be studying how trees communicate? Or understanding why certain frequencies heal? Or figuring out what consciousness actually is?

Those aren’t real jobs yet. But they could be.

We’re standing at this weird crossroads where we could redesign everything. Not based on what’s most efficient, but on what’s most meaningful.

The Messy Middle

Look, I’m not naive. This transition is going to be rough. There will be confusion, resistance, people getting left behind. That’s always how big changes work.

But I keep coming back to this question: When the dust settles, where do we want to end up?

More of the same? Faster computers, busier lives, higher productivity scores?

Or something different? Something that actually feeds the soul?

What Only We Can Do

There are things no AI will ever be able to do. Not because it lacks processing power, but because it’s not alive.

It can’t feel the weight of silence in an old forest. It can’t have its breath taken away by a sunset. It can’t sit with someone who’s grieving and just… be present.

That’s human work. The work of witnessing. Of wondering. Of feeling connected to something bigger than ourselves.

We’re the Bridge Generation

We’re living through something unprecedented. We’re the last generation that remembers life before the internet, and the first that gets to decide what comes after automation.

That’s kind of amazing when you think about it.

We get to choose: Do we use these tools to build a world that’s more productive, or more alive?

Maybe the ancients weren’t primitive. Maybe they were just playing a longer game than we are. Maybe they understood something about time, and cycles, and what really matters that we’re just starting to remember.

The technology is here. The question is: What are we going to do with it?

Are we going to keep optimizing our way to emptiness? Or are we finally going to make space for the questions that matter?

I don’t know about you, but I’m tired of feeling disconnected. From nature, from each other, from whatever this whole cosmic thing is about.

Maybe it’s time to look up at the stars again.

Maybe it’s time to remember what we came here to do.