I try to drink less coffee, however my coffee machine makes really good coffee. When I turn it on to create a really good cup of coffee it stay on for about 45 minutes.

After those minutes it turns itself off and cleans everything, and it is quite loud when it does this. I’ve realized that when this happens I’m always reminded of coffee. This makes me want to go and… grab coffee.

This coffee machine scenario highlights a broader pattern I’ve noticed: our environment creates automatic triggers that can derail our intentions. Another example is how we use timers for productivity.

Getting into flow sometimes needs tools like setting a timer for 5 minutes to overcome initial resistance. I use this technique to commit to just “investing” 5 minutes in a task, which is usually enough to get started.

The problem with timers is when they go off… you get a Pavlovian response that you are done.

Breaking these loops might require changing the environment rather than fighting the response. Moving your workspace away from the coffee machine’s audible range eliminates the trigger entirely. Similarly, using visual timers like sand hourglasses instead of alarm sounds can help maintain flow while still tracking time.

The key is recognizing these automated triggers and redesigning them to align with your true intentions rather than working against them.

There are no stupid questions, but there is such a thing as too many questions.

Ask the one question that answers twenty others. Then be patient enough to listen.

Capture ideas while they are fresh and store them somewhere. You can ignore organization for the future, that will become a solved problem similar to how all your organizing of MP3s is a solved problem. Or how meticulously sorting photos into folders seems quaint now that search just works.

It was jokingly said that “For all these companies budgets to add up, every Swede would need a website worth 2 million kronor.”

During the late 90s dot-com bubble, Sweden had its own tech superstars. Jonas Birgersson became known as “Broadband Jesus” for his vision of universal internet access through his company Framfab. Johan Staël von Holstein built Icon Medialab into a global player before the crash, while Ernst Malmsten and Kajsa Leander’s Boo.com famously burned through massive venture capital in just 18 months before collapsing. Boo.com epitomized being too early - their Flash-heavy website required significant bandwidth that most users simply didn’t have at the time.

What these companies share with today’s AI boom is striking: outsized hype about profitability and technology prioritized over utility. These entrepreneurs were creative people riding a wave of genuine possibility.

I passed by a shop today called “Mästerkattens” which advertises itself as a cobbler/tailor/key-making service.

Strange how these used to be three entirely different professions.

During the 1950s mass production of shoes took off and cobblers had to diversify. Their manual skills and dexterity led them to key-making.

This shift essentially eliminated dedicated key makers as a profession. But those professionals didn’t vanish. The key industry pivoted toward security systems instead.

What we’re seeing over time is our human tendency to invent new professions that replace old ones.

We’re remarkably adaptive creatures. Just as cobblers became key makers when mass production changed their industry we’ll adapt to AI too.

Our history is defined by this continuous reinvention. When technologies shift we don’t disappear. We transform.

Björk released “Medúlla” in 2004, an album where about 80% of sounds come from human voices with minimal conventional instruments.

As an artist who connects technology with nature, she imposed this vocal-only constraint deliberately. She challenged herself to create everything (basslines, percussion, atmospherics) using just the human throat.

Instead of using everything at your disposal, set constraints to test your imagination. When we limit our tools or methods, we’re forced to think more creatively within those boundaries, often leading to more innovative and distinctive outcomes.

Preparing for presentations often involves getting stuck trying to create bridges between different sections. Forcing connections rarely works.

What does work is reviewing the material, taking a step back and going for a walk without any devices or distractions.

The simple act of getting blood flowing activates the brain in different ways.

My most effective tool for beating inertia is a 5-minute alarm app that stays silent when time’s up. It just keeps counting upward while displaying encouraging messages every minute. I only see these if I check the app.

The concept is simple: I commit to just “investing” 5 minutes in a task. Those few minutes are usually all I need to get started and break through my resistance.

Just because something is hard doesn’t mean it is important.

In school we learned to take notes we could depend on for studying for exams. In best of worlds they were comprehensive, capturing key facts and concepts that would be tested later. In worst of worlds they was just a indication on which page number in the books that you should read.

In meetings we learned to take notes for what was being said and what was being decided upon. The focus is on action items, ownership and deadlines.

AI note taking and transcripts are changing meeting notes into something more like school notes. “You actually said this, there is a record of it.” This brings accountability but loses something important.

What’s missing in these perfect transcripts is the context and human feeling around the meetings. The energy in the room when an idea was proposed. The hesitation before someone agreed. The enthusiasm that can’t be captured in words alone.

Different contexts require different note-taking strategies. The key is recognizing what each approach captures and what it leaves out.