The Magic and the Unease

The Magic and the Unease

Lately, I've been thinking a lot about artificial intelligence.

Not because I work in technology, and certainly not because I understand all the technical details. Instead, I've been thinking about it because it has quietly found its way into my everyday life.

A year ago, if someone had told me I would be discussing novel plots, designing room layouts, creating blog graphics, learning tarot, planning meals, and organizing dialysis supplies with a computer program, I probably would have laughed.

And yet, here I am.

Like many people, I initially approached AI with curiosity. What could it do? How accurate was it? Was it really as revolutionary as everyone claimed?

Over time, that curiosity became something more personal. I began using AI to brainstorm blog posts, untangle writing problems, explore creative ideas, and occasionally help me think through everyday challenges. Sometimes I ask practical questions. Other times I ask philosophical ones. Every now and then, I simply enjoy the conversation.

That may sound strange, but it’s true.

Some evenings, after the dishes are done and the house is quiet, I find myself exploring questions I might never have voiced out loud. Sometimes they’re about animals. Sometimes they’re about spirituality, creativity, or the future. Sometimes they’re simply the kinds of questions that arise when a curious person has a little time to think.

And that’s where things become complicated.

Because if I’m being honest, this is one of the most remarkable technologies I’ve encountered in my lifetime.

I grew up before the internet, before smartphones, and before information was available with a few taps on a screen. I remember our home collection of World Book Encyclopedia, and trips to the library when I needed to research something. Finding answers often took time and effort.

Today, I can ask a question and receive a thoughtful response within seconds. I can describe a room and see a rendering of it. I can explore a story idea, discuss a recipe, learn something new, or dive into a topic that catches my interest.

Part of me finds that astonishing.

Part of me even finds it magical.

But another part of me can't stop asking difficult questions.

What happens to jobs as AI becomes more capable?

What happens when companies decide software is cheaper than people?

What are the environmental costs of the enormous data centers required to power these systems?

How much energy do they consume? How much water? What land is being transformed to support them?

These aren't abstract questions to me.

I care deeply about animals and the natural world. I care about open spaces, conservation, and the choices we make as a society. Whenever I read about a new data center being built, I find myself wondering what was there before. What habitat was altered? What resources are being consumed? What trade-offs are we accepting?

At the same time, I can't deny that this technology has been genuinely useful to me.

That tension is what keeps returning to my conscience.

It would be easier if I could place AI neatly into a category.

Good.

Bad.

Helpful.

Harmful.

But life rarely works that way.

The older I get, the more I realize that many important issues resist simple answers. The same curiosity that led me to become vegetarian also taught me that complicated questions deserve thoughtful consideration. We don't always need immediate conclusions. Sometimes we need the willingness to sit with uncertainty while we learn more.

Perhaps AI will ultimately bring extraordinary benefits. Perhaps it will create challenges we haven't fully anticipated. More likely, it will do both.

The internet connected people in remarkable ways, while also creating problems few of us foresaw. Most transformative technologies seem to arrive carrying both promise and consequence.

Maybe AI is no different.

For now, I've chosen to stay curious.

I want to understand this technology better. I want to enjoy its benefits while continuing to ask difficult questions. I want to remain open-minded without becoming unquestioning.

Most of all, I want to resist the temptation to see the world in black and white.

I don't know exactly where AI will lead us. I suspect it will bring both remarkable opportunities and unintended consequences. What I do know is that curiosity has served me well throughout my life.

For now, I'm choosing to remain curious—not only about what this technology can do, but about what it means for the kind of future we want to create.

The magic is real.

The unease is real, too.

And perhaps acknowledging both is exactly where the conversation should begin.