Not Doing Is Also an Act
In a world of instant input and infinite output, choosing not to act is a creative decision. This is a reflection on AI, growth, and intent.
AI is fast. But intentional growth still takes time.
A Fundamental Shift
AI has changed the way I work—drastically and fundamentally. As a knowledge worker, I’ve always moved between learning, structuring, and creating. But lately, the ground beneath that process has shifted. Tools don’t just assist—they generate, suggest, complete. You’re no longer chasing insight. Insight is chasing you.
And not just in what you read or write, but in how you speak.
Dictation, transcription, voice-to-note—these new frictionless input modes have rewired my rituals. Ideas now enter faster than ever. I talk to capture thoughts. I draft while walking. I work without sitting down.
From Scarcity to Abundance
One of the biggest shifts wasn’t technical. It was psychological. I had to move from a psychology of scarcity—where ideas were rare and needed to be hunted—to a psychology of abundance. Now the problem isn’t how to get input, it’s how to handle the overflow.
AI tools give you everything: outlines, metaphors, copy, code. And with frictionless input, you can produce at the speed of thought. That’s powerful—but also disorienting. Because in this new reality, just because something can be done doesn’t mean it should be.
Pacing, Not Chasing
The temptation is to produce more, learn more, publish more. But if you keep feeding the machine without feeding yourself, you’ll burn out on your own, and borrowed, brilliance. You’ll lose the time to reflect, absorb, and actually become the person behind your output.
That’s when I realised: not doing is also an act.
It’s not hesitation. It’s authorship.
It’s not avoidance. It’s alignment.
In Taoist thought, this idea is known as wu wei: action through inaction. It’s not laziness. It’s precision. You’re not reacting to every signal—you’re choosing your own.
Integration Over Acceleration
AI invites you to speed up. Frictionless input makes everything feel urgent. But growth still requires digestion. Learning still takes pacing. Reflection still matters.
And so does memory.
Without declarative memory—the ability to recall, relate, and re-apply what you've learned—reflection becomes passive. What I’ve found is that intentional recall (like through spaced repetition systems such as Anki) helps me embody knowledge. It’s how I test whether something has really stuck, or whether I just passed through it too fast to care.
In a world of instant knowledge, real understanding still takes time.
Slowing down doesn’t mean you’re falling behind.
It means you’re actually here.
Rob Hoeijmakers