Our immediate history is steeped in profound technological acceleration. We are using artificial intelligence to draft our prose, articulate our vision, propose designs, and compose symphonies. Large language models have become part of our workflow in school and business: curating, calculating, and creating. They are embedded in how we organize knowledge and interpret reality.
I’ve always considered myself lucky that my journey into AI began with social impact. In 02014, I was asked to join the leadership of IBM’s Watson Education. Our challenge was to create an AI companion for teachers in underserved and impacted schools that aggregated data about each student and suggested personalized learning content tailored to their needs. The experience showed me that AI could do more than increase efficiency or automate what many of us consider to be broken processes; it could also address some of our most pressing questions and community issues.
It would take a personal encounter with AI, however, for me to truly grasp the technology’s potential. Late one night, I was working on a blog post and having a hard time getting started — the blank page echoing my paralysis. I asked Kim-GPT, an AI tool I created and trained on my writing, to draft something that was charged with emotion and vulnerability. What Kim-GPT returned wasn’t accurate or even particularly insightful, but it surfaced something I had not yet admitted to myself. Not because the machine knew, but because it forced me to recognize that only I did. The GPT could only average others’ insights on the subject. It could not draw lines between my emotions, my past experiences and my desires for the future. It could only reflect what had already been done and said.
That moment cracked something open. It was both provocative and spiritual — a quiet realization with profound consequences. My relationship with intelligence began to shift. I wasn’t merely using the tool; I was being confronted by it. What emerged from that encounter was curiosity. We were engaged not in competition but in collaboration. AI could not tell me who I was; it could only prompt me to remember. Since then, I have become focused on one central, persistent question:
What if AI isn’t here as a replacement or overlord, but to remind us of who we are and what is possible?
AI as Catalyst, Not Threat
We tend to speak about AI in utopian or dystopian terms, but most humans live somewhere in between, balancing awe with unease. AI is a disruptor of the human condition — and a pervasive one, at that. Across sectors, industries and nearly every aspect of human life, AI challenges long-held assumptions about what it means to think, create, contribute. But what if it also serves as a mirror?
In late 02023, I took my son, then a college senior at UC-Berkeley and the only mixed-race pure Mathematics major in the department, to Afrotech, a conference for technologists of color. In order to register for the conference he needed a professional headshot. Given the short notice, I recommended he use an AI tool to generate a professional headshot from a selfie. The first result straightened his hair. When he prompted the AI again, specifying that he was mixed race, the resulting image darkened his skin to the point he was unrecognizable, and showed him in a non-professional light.
AI reflects the data we feed it, the values we encode into it, and the desires we project onto it. It can amplify our best instincts, like creativity and collaboration, or our most dangerous biases, like prejudice and inequality. It can be weaponized, commodified, celebrated or anthropomorphized. It challenges us to consider our species and our place in the large ecosystem of life, of being and of intelligence. And more than any technology before it, AI forces us to confront a deeper question:
Who are we when we are no longer the most elevated, intelligent and coveted beings on Earth?
When we loosen our grip on cognition and productivity as the foundation of human worth, we reclaim the qualities machines cannot replicate: our ability to feel, intuit, yearn, imagine and love. These capacities are not weaknesses; they are the core of our humanity. These are not “soft skills;” they are the bedrock of our survival. If AI is the catalyst, then our humanity is the compass.
Creativity as the Origin Story of Intelligence
All technology begins with imagination, not engineering. AI is not the product of logic or computation alone; it is the descendant of dreams, myths and stories, born at the intersection of our desire to know and our urge to create.
We often forget this. Today, we scale AI at an unsustainable pace, deploying systems faster than we can regulate them, funding ideas faster than we can reflect on their implications. We are hyperscaling without reverence for the creativity that gave rise to AI in the first place.
Creativity cannot be optimized. It is painstakingly slow, nonlinear, and deeply inconvenient. It resists automation. It requires time, stillness, uncertainty, and the willingness to sit with discomfort. And yet, creativity is perhaps our most sacred act as humans. In this era of accelerated intelligence, our deepest responsibility is to protect the sacred space where imagination lives and creativity thrives.
To honor creativity is to reclaim agency, reframing AI not as a threat to human purpose, but as a partner in deepening it. We are not simply the designers of AI — we are the dreamers from which it was born.
Vulnerability, Uncertainty, and Courage-Centered Leadership
A few years ago, I was nominated to join a fellowship designed specifically to teach tech leaders how to obtain reverent power as a way to uplevel their impact. What I affectionately dubbed “Founders Crying” became a hotbed for creativity. New businesses emerged and ideas formed from seemingly disparate concepts that each individual brought to our workshop. It occurred to me that it took more than just sitting down at a machine, canvas or instrument to cultivate creativity. What was required was a change in how leaders show up in the workplace. To navigate the rough waters of creativity, we need new leadership deeply rooted in courage and vulnerability. As Brené Brown teaches:
“Vulnerability is the birthplace of love, belonging, joy, courage, empathy and creativity. It is the source of hope, empathy, accountability, and authenticity. If we want greater clarity in our purpose or deeper and more meaningful spiritual lives, vulnerability is the path.”
For AI to support a thriving human future we must be vulnerable. We must lead with curiosity, not certainty. We must be willing to not know. To experiment. To fail and begin again.
This courage-centered leadership asks how we show up fully human in the age of AI. Are we able to stay open to wonder even as the world accelerates? Can we design with compassion, not just code? These questions must guide our design principles, ensuring a future in which AI expands possibilities rather than collapsing them. To lead well in an AI-saturated world, we must be willing to feel deeply, to be changed, and to relinquish control. In a world where design thinking prevails and “human-centered everything” is in vogue, we need to be courageous enough to question what happens when humanity reintegrates itself within the ecosystem we’ve set ourselves apart from over the last century.
AI and the Personal Legend
I am a liberal arts graduate from a small school in central Pennsylvania. I was certain that I was headed to law school — that is, until I worked with lawyers. Instead, I followed my parents to San Francisco, where both were working hard in organizations bringing the internet to the world. When I joined the dot-com boom, I found that there were no roles that matched what I was uniquely good at. So I decided to build my own.
Throughout my unconventional career path, one story that has consistently guided and inspired me is Paulo Coelho’s The Alchemist. The book’s central idea is that of the Personal Legend: the universe, with all its forms of intelligence, collaborates with us to determine our purpose. It is up to each of us to choose whether we pursue what the universe calls upon us to do.
In an AI-saturated world, it can be harder to hear that calling. The noise of prediction, optimization, and feedback loops can drown out the quieter voice of intuition. The machine may offer countless suggestions, but it cannot tell you what truly matters. It may identify patterns in your behavior, but it cannot touch your purpose.
Purpose is an internal compass. It is something discovered, not assigned. AI, when used with discernment, can support this discovery, but only when we allow it to act as a mirror rather than a map. It can help us articulate what we already know, and surface connections we might not have seen. But determining what’s worth pursuing is a journey that remains ours. That is inner work. That is the sacred domain of the human spirit. It cannot be outsourced or automated.
Purpose is not a download. It is a discovery.
Designing with Compassion and the Long-term in Mind
If we want AI to serve human flourishing, we must shift from designing for efficiency to designing for empathy. The Dalai Lama has often said that compassion is the highest form of intelligence. What might it look like to embed that kind of intelligence into our systems?
To take this teaching into our labs and development centers we would need to prioritize dignity in every design choice. We must build models that heal fragmentation instead of amplifying division. And most importantly, we need to ask ourselves not just “can we build it?” but “should we and for whom?”
This requires conceptual analysis, systems thinking, creative experimentation, composite research, and emotional intelligence. It requires listening to those historically excluded from innovation and technology conversations and considerations. It means moving from extraction to reciprocity. When designing for and with AI, it is important to remember that connection is paramount.
The future we build depends on the values we encode, the similarities innate in our species, and the voices we amplify and uplift.
Practical Tools for Awakening Creativity with AI
Creativity is not a luxury. It is essential to our evolution. To awaken it, we need practices that are both grounded and generative:
- Treat AI as a collaborator, not a replacement. Start by writing a rough draft yourself. Use AI to explore unexpected connections. Let it surprise you. But always return to your own voice. Creativity lives in conversation, not in command.
- Ask more thoughtful, imaginative questions. A good prompt is not unlike a good question in therapy. It opens doors you didn’t know were there. AI responds to what we ask of it. If we bring depth and curiosity to the prompt, we often get insights we hadn’t expected.
- Use AI to practice emotional courage. Have it simulate a difficult conversation. Role-play a tough decision. Draft the email you’re scared to send. These exercises are not about perfecting performance. They are about building resilience.
In all these ways, AI can help us loosen fear and cultivate creativity — but only if we are willing to engage with it bravely and playfully.
Reclaiming the Sacred in a World of Speed
We are not just building tools; we are shaping culture. And in this culture, we must make space for the sacred, protecting time for rest and reflection; making room for play and experimentation; and creating environments where wonder is not a distraction but a guide.
When creativity is squeezed out by optimization, we lose more than originality: we lose meaning. And when we lose meaning, we lose direction.
The time saved by automation must not be immediately reabsorbed by more production. Let us reclaim that time. Let us use it to imagine. Let us return to questions of beauty, belonging, and purpose. We cannot replicate what we have not yet imagined. We cannot automate what we have not protected.
Catalogue. Connect. Create.
Begin by noticing what moves you. Keep a record of what sparks awe or breaks your heart. These moments are clues. They are breadcrumbs to your Personal Legend.
Seek out people who are different from you. Not just in background, but in worldview. Innovation often lives in the margins. It emerges when disciplines and identities collide.
And finally, create spaces that nourish imagination. Whether it’s a kitchen table, a community gathering, or a digital forum, we need ecosystems where creativity can flourish and grow.
These are not side projects. They are acts of revolution. And they are how we align artificial intelligence with the deepest dimensions of what it means to be human.
Our Technology Revolution is Evolution
The real revolution is not artificial intelligence. It is the awakening of our own. It is the willingness to meet this moment with full presence. To reclaim our imagination as sacred. To use innovation as an invitation to remember who we are.
AI will shape the future. That much is certain. The question is whether we will shape ourselves in return, and do so with integrity, wisdom, and wonder. The future does not need more optimization. It needs more imagination.
That begins now. That begins with us.
