I spent part of this weekend teaching people how to use AI.
Which, if you've followed any of my AI in the Wild stories, probably isn't surprising.
I've somehow accumulated an entire roster of AI people at this point. Hannah helps me run my house. Khloe helps me keep my life and work organized. Coach M works with Megan. And there are a few others who have popped up along the way.
But this weekend was different.
Instead of showing people what I've built, I got to help them figure out what they needed.
And the coolest part?
Nobody built the same thing.
At the first workshop, one person built Coach P, a fitness coach designed around what she actually wanted help with.
Someone else built a marketing coordinator.
Another person started building an AI agent to help his wife better manage and understand her A1C.
Then I did another, much smaller AI girls' night.
There were only a few of us, sitting around talking, playing with ChatGPT and figuring out what would actually be useful.
We started with security.
She uses ChatGPT, but she had some concerns about what she was sharing and how her information was being used. So we went through her settings together, talked about what she was comfortable with, and got things set up in a way that made her feel better about continuing to use it.
And then we started building.
That conversation eventually led to Coach E, an AI coach we're creating for her daughter.
And somewhere in the middle of all of this, something clicked for me.
Here's who showed up this weekend.
Six different people. Six completely different problems. Six AI agents that didn't exist on Friday.
Maybe we're teaching AI backwards.
A lot of AI training starts with the technology.
But I'm starting to think the better question is much simpler:
What's one thing in your life that would be easier if you didn't have to figure it out alone?
Because nobody at these workshops needed an "AI transformation strategy."
They had actual stuff going on.
And once we started there, the AI part became a whole lot less intimidating.
You don't need my AI. You need yours.
I've spent a lot of time building my little AI crew.
And lately, friends and family have started asking some version of: "Can you make me one?"
At first, I thought the answer was yes.
Now I think the better answer is: I can help you build yours.
Because I can't really give someone Hannah.
Hannah works because she knows my house. She knows how we eat, how I shop, what tends to fall through the cracks and the million tiny things I'm usually trying to keep in my head.
Coach M works because she's being built around Megan.
And Coach E shouldn't just be Coach M with a different name. She needs to understand a different kid, a different mom, a different relationship and a different set of needs.
The framework can be shared.
The context can't.
And I think that's one of the things we're still missing when we talk about personal AI.
The future might be a bunch of weirdly named AI people.
Nicholas. Bella. Coach P. Coach E. Hannah. Khloe.
Apparently we are all just naming our AI now.
And honestly, I kind of love it.
Because I'm starting to think personal AI may not look like one giant, all-knowing assistant that runs our entire lives.
Maybe it looks like little pockets of help.
Not AI doing everything.
Just AI making something easier.
And maybe that's why I keep coming back to this.
The coolest thing I built this weekend wasn't an AI agent.
It was somebody else's confidence that they could build one.
And once people stop asking, "What can AI do?"
and start asking,
"What could AI do for me?"
That's when this stuff gets really interesting.