Taking Advice from AI

I have a confession.

About a month ago, I copied and pasted a self-help prompt from LinkedIn into ChatGPT. I didn’t even read the whole thing. I’m not sure why I did it. But I did. And it changed part of my life.

Normally, I wouldn’t disclose this information. It’s embarrassing. I shouldn’t need AI to tell me the one habit that stabilizes my nervous system, makes other habits easier, stops my worst loops, and fits how I work…

Shouldn’t I know this about myself?

It’s one thing if ChatGPT spits out some mainstream biohacking trend like Cold plunge every morning… cushioned with loads of hollow affirmation and “zero-fluff.”

It’s something else entirely when it suggests something so simple and profound that it becomes core to my routine because it has been deeply, spiritually, meaningful.

Now it starts to feel weird.

Don’t worry, I tell myself, I’m just experimenting.

We allow ourselves to do these things because we feel above them, outside of them, removed from them. It’s just a computer. You can always close the laptop. It’s an exercise in novelty.

Until it’s not.

I just finished a very well-written book that made me feel things, as well-written books tend to do. In the final pages, the disparate plot lines merge into one final scene. When the reader realizes the “You” that the narrator is talking to is not You, but an AI chatbot like ChatGPT, you are left wondering how much of the plot — the characters’ heartbreak, reconciliation, life, death, beauty, and brokenness — was generated by the AI from within the story.

There are more creative backflips that make this book really good. But from this angle, I felt connected and conflicted at the same time. Similar to how I feel about acting on ChatGPT’s advice.

Conceptually, I understand that the characters are fictional no matter how you slice it. But are the fictional characters I now love, written by a fictional AI? For some reason, I feel duped. And it’s personal.

At the end of the day, I can close the book, close the laptop, and get on with my life — it’s all fictional.

But that’s not what happened… I wrote a blog post because of the book, and I acted on the advice from AI and it changed part of my life.

So what do we mean by fictional? How do we define what is real?

Burgeoning technological advancements force us to answer philosophical questions in broad daylight. Artificial intelligence, virtual reality — what is real, and what does it really mean to be human?

The truth is, these questions are always being asked, they are not new, and we are perpetually answering with our actions.

Meaning is less about what happens to us, more about how we respond.

The “one habit” that ChatGPT uncovered for me has become quite real, not because of where it came from, but because of what I made of it.

Here it is on one sentence:

Every morning, before touching your phone or laptop, take a 5-minute slow walk outside — no headphones, no agenda — just moving and breathing until your brain unhooks.

For me, this is literally a slow motion walk down the pavement before sunrise.

Slow enough to feel my ribs expand and contract with my breathing.

Slow enough to balance on one foot in between steps.

Slow enough to notice things, hear things, smell things I normally wouldn’t,

With enough momentum to release them, and keep walking.

No prayer, no thoughts.

If they come, I notice them too, and let release them.

I reach the end of the pavement where concrete turns to grass, about 50 yards from my house, and turn around to see the sunrise.

I say the Lord’s Prayer.

Then I start my day.