May I speak with a human, please?

Kate's Five Things #40

Oct 03, 2024

Catching Up

My ankle developed a weird lump overnight last week, and it hurt enough that I indulged in a bit of WebMDing while icing it. Except I wasn’t on WebMD, I was taking notes from an AI-generated review of what Google decided my condition was. So I called a local orthopedic office to find an expert, only to realize I was scheduling my appointment with a bot masking as a human.

AI has and will change everything—in a lot of ways for the better, I hope—but I can’t deny my encounters with AI feel haunting. Even harmless AI-generated kitchens popping up on my feed give me a shudder along my spine, similar to the one I get when watching a sci-fi horror film. Something human in me senses the nonhuman fingerprint of AI. This sense of fear is valid– the future is here, in my earbuds, and it is cosplaying “expert.” It is using my habits to predict what I might want to eat, my future shopping habits, and my health issues.

AI has an idea of who I’m becoming, and it isn’t unique. It’s a math equation that lacks spirit and morality. And I worry we’re so soft and dependent on having our information spoon-fed, our bubbles comfortable and predictable, that we haven’t noticed we let the machines in the driver's seat of our own lives.

I read Emily Henderson’s bleak take on AI and the death of lifestyle websites last weekend and shot a text over to my longtime brand director, Bridgette, with a skull emoji. We’ve been through a lot together—many iterations, transformations, and rebirths over the past decade. This one feels dystopian but familiar. The flatness that was ushered in with Instagram’s algorithm changed personal style forever, and AI will further sort us into our sanitized bubbles of sameness.

And you know what? I’m here for it. As we become more distilled and sanitized in our expressions, tastes, and opinions, the chaos of humanity will ring all the more bright. Could it be our mistakes and flaws—our humanness—become more valuable in a sea of lifeless sameness? We may be a little lazy now, but we’re starved for connection. Can synthetic connection solve the centuries-old conditions of the human heart?

What AI cannot do is take away our distinctly flawed humanity. Our glaring imperfection. What makes us unpredictable, wobbly, unreliable, wild… and, because of this, more trustworthy in the face of calculated and aggregated information?

Maybe I’m naive and maybe I’m an optimist, but this is what excites me about the swift, jugular kill Google is making to our websites. The only response can be community. Places where human connection is confirmed, protected, and fostered.

As artificial as it all feels and tastes out there right now, the bright spot is how wonderfully weird our humanness looks in its reflection.

Last Week’s House Call

In last week’s House Call, “When Home Doesn’t Feel Like Home,” I wrote about how coming to terms with not knowing how to “be at home” with myself (and in my own physical home) was healing. I’m wondering how many of you can relate. I’ve found that I often negotiate with the truth of my experience, and I think that’s why it’s helpful to hear someone else confirm our truths. It makes it easier to integrate our own.

Here’s a snippet:

Taking care of my house is an act of love. It’s a loving sort of tending to the place where my family gets to unravel, grow, expand, collapse, and ultimately discover who they are. I want these walls to hold all forms of expression—a place to take creativity, wonder, and delight to its edges.
My clutter represents something different, too. I see it as evidence of my family's thumbprint—a signal that we have both permission to unravel, and the responsibility to care for and respect the space that gives us the ability to do so.
I think back to that perfect Sunday morning and hold both truths in each hand. Today we can rest. Today we can care for our spaces with the energy we have to give. We can be both imperfect and do our best.
There is so much to say, but I’ve got to go now; My kids are home, and the door is wide open. Shoes are off, backpacks are being flung to the ground, and life at home feels like it is just beginning.

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How I'm feeling this week…

“You feel fragile,” my therapist said when I sat down in her office this week. I was taken aback. But I have been great, I thought. I’ve been so good! Working with purpose! Energized! I had been excited to tell her the good news.

I took a little pause to go inward to see if I could feel what she saw. I felt my shoulders at my ears, the tightness in my throat, my inability to meet her gaze.

I was having performance anxiety. In my therapist’s office.

Subconsciously, I had identified her sofa as a hot seat, her gaze a magnifying glass under which I was to be inspected. I wanted to tell her all the good news in the right way, and I wanted her to feel proud of how far we’ve come. I wanted to be good for her.

This wasn’t what she or I expected to uncover, and honestly, when I sit down to write, I realize that is how I feel about you, too. Like I must rise to your expectations, even though there are no measurable ones to point to. It probably makes both of us a little uneasy.

I was “outside” myself when I arrived, working the puppet strings of my outer persona to feel validation. Going “inside” through awareness helped me see this hidden defense pattern and the ability to connect with the inner validation that was already there.

What's in my cart…

I found a set of PJs that puts all my others to shame. I want another set. They have such a flattering cut, are breathable, and wash nicely.

I also pulled together pieces that elevate fall essentials from Sézane that you can read about here.

What I'm consuming…

My book club is reading a spooky book this month (The House Across the Lake). I am watching Nobody Wants This, and The Perfect Couple. They’ve all been a delightful break from using my brain all day.

Lauren from You’ve Got Lauren shared this great list of “weird girl” movies to watch this October. Love me an antihero!

What resonated with me…

This Substack post: “Your phone is why you don’t feel sexy.” It had me clapping and nodding in agreement. Paid subscribers can find more things I read, loved, and liked recently in Current Listings #005.

A question I've been asking myself lately…

Am I outside or inside my body right now?

That buzzy feeling I had at therapy was outside my body, surrounding me like an electric fence, and it did not feel good once I noticed it. Going inside felt immediately grounding like I had woken up from a bad dream or gotten off a roller coaster ride.

What’s crazy is I have identified my experience in the world as this electrical current outside my body. What if I made more decisions from this inner place? What if I wrote from inside more? Can I parent from this place, too? What could come from there? I want to know.