Don't Let AI Become Your God

The ideas seem to be gone, I thought. Just a blinking cursor. I wait, but the only thing that comes to me feels used, trite, and boring.

This, after facilitating a workshop on creative brainstorming, where we discussed the role of the right brain, and how humans are receivers of ideas.

My eyes shift out my window to a man in a blue polo and matching blue pants gliding toward my driveway on a Segway. Ugh, Segway. What happened to walking? This thought is immediately interrupted by another. Perhaps he has a mobility limitation that makes it difficult for him to walk long distances. I bet he’s trying to sell solar panels.

I wait. Nothing.

The only thing to do now is walk away and do something else.

Cleaning up is always my low-hanging fruit for letting ideas roll over in my mind. I turn on Teddy Swims “She Loves the Rain” and snap my fingers in between putting dishes in the dishwasher.

I snap again, and a memory arrives. I feel eight-years-old, sitting in the backseat of the Monte Carlo watching my dad drive with his left hand and snap to Hall & Oates with his right.

I sing the chorus and place another plate in the dishwasher.

Funny how the body must move to music. There’s rhythm, sure, but something else that moves through us. Is it the same energy, I wonder, that moved through the artists when they created the music?

Music, stories, art, ideas that solve complicated problems, even the felt sense of my dad in that Monte Carlo — aren’t generated entirely in the brain. The brain is more like an antenna, receiving and rendering consciousness.

I once heard Eddie Vedder say that when performing concerts or creating music, he felt like he was “channeling something different.” He was purely the vessel for something else to come through.

Ideas are information. And like all information, they exist beyond any individual mind, available to be received when we quiet the noise enough to tune in. Some call this consciousness, God, the Universe, or one’s higher power. It doesn’t matter what we call it. It’s moving through us all, right now.

As I move around the kitchen, I tap my phone and put on Hall & Oates to head deeper into the memory. Holding my phone, I notice the pull to open an AI app and ask it for ideas, yet something in me feels pulled to stay in the music, nodding my head to “Rich Girl.”

These days, many are picking up their phone and talking to AI like it’s the source of ideas, but AI can only work with what already exists in the database. It synthesizes. It recombines. It cannot receive directly from the broader consciousness field. Only a human Being, connected to consciousness, can be the receiver.

We are like the radio. Source, or consciousness, is the radio waves. AI is the record player, an impressive one certainly, but let’s not confuse it with the invisible waves of consciousness.

The kitchen is nearly clean, and a phrase lands in my head, “Don’t let AI become your God.” I scribble it in my journal. It feels like a message about what we’re doing with this new technology, and what we might be losing.

What happens to our ability to be creative and receive ideas if we turn toward AI?

Humans can receive information faster than AI can output it, like a complete download all at once. I’ve experienced it. Others describe the same thing. Paul McCartney shared that the song “Yesterday” arrived complete in a dream.

The ideas that arrive this way aren’t small ones. They’re the insight that changes a company’s direction. The knowing that saves a marriage. The creative solution nobody in the room could think their way to.

The slow part isn’t the information. It’s getting quiet enough to let it in.

I pick up my journal and start writing.

You are always receiving ideas, and you can create a mental environment to receive more, different, or new ideas. If you’re trying to solve a problem, walk away from the blinking cursor and let your mind wander.

Do the things humans have been doing since the beginning of time. Turn on music that moves you. Go for a walk. Work with your hands.

And, keep a notebook with you to write down whatever comes, even the random, nonsensical things. Especially those. You may be trying to solve a business problem, and start getting ideas for a poem. Don’t ignore it. Be curious about what it’s telling you.

We’re quick to discard ideas that feel illogical or ridiculous. Don’t. New ideas don’t always feel like a eureka moment. Sometimes they feel strange precisely because they’re new. They’re unfamiliar. They’ve been passed by. But that might be exactly why they’ll work now.

This is about more than receiving ideas; it’s about being open to a conversation with consciousness. It’s a way of saying, I’m alive, I’m here, I’m listening.

As you listen, I encourage you to snap your fingers too.

With love,

Sarah

PS: If you want to go deeper into this work, learning to access your own knowing and lead from who you actually are, A Return to Self is where we do that together. It’s a self-paced program to help you feel clearer, more alive, and confident in everything you do. $297. Lifetime access.

I write regularly about aliveness, fear, and the inner choices that shape our lives. Get the next one in your inbox.