For months I stood paralyzed in the sprint to become "AI-first", whatever that means.
After dinner, my husband – a serial founder, techno-optimist, and wonderful father to our two boys – would show up with something new and shiny. Music he'd mixed. Art he generated. Bots to debug code while he slept. In the 15 years we've known each other, it was the most empowered I've ever seen him. He buzzed with awe, and I wasn't feeling any of it.
Instead, I struggled with big and small questions. So what is AI, really? How does it work? What is this all going to cost us – artistically, culturally…planetarily? I felt sad and stuck. Overnight, everyone around me seemed to stampede toward what was possible with AI, and all I could do was watch.
But then my kids forced my hand.
It was a typical Bay Area morning, drenched in fog, when my husband's iPhone came out. "Guess what?" he started. The boys were about to have their first introduction to ChatGPT over cereal. At first, they weren't quite sure what to ask or what to do. But then my oldest noticed his stack of library books on the counter and dove right in. Percy Jackson. The nine muses. Killer whales (the younger one chimed in at this point). Answer after answer, we watched them both. Their eyes sparkled as every prompt poured out magic. And before either of us could name what was happening, the boys had changed. They went from kids with World Books to kids with infinite intelligence at their fingertips — and I couldn't afford to stand still anymore.
Watching the Gold Rush
When I started to pay attention, my stall turned into overwhelm. I read articles that shouted "death" and "freedom" at the same time. The end of art and knowledge jobs! The birth of one-person unicorns and AI-rap songs! While the inevitability of AI became increasingly clear, my path into it felt murky and cautious.
At first I tried hard to observe and learn. I signed up for lightning courses, listened to podcasts, and watched YouTube videos that sent me into a whirlpool of tools and tricks. I watched my husband and the ease at which he could put the questions aside and "just play." He seemed to be following the universal call: trust-fall into the stampede. Prompt everything. Vibe code websites because…why not? Build your own apps, your own GPTs, your own clone.
"Just play" had the opposite effect on me, though. As the tech got better and better, my caution started to cost me. I upgraded to access the best models. Subscribed to tools. Drove with voice mode in case ideas struck me. The answers felt cheap and came easily. Soon I lost any sense of what really mattered – the power of not knowing, the value of struggling with my own questions, the productive punch of a blank page.
And I wasn't alone. Together, Claire and I spoke to peers, educators, and solo founders around the country – mostly women – who were tied up in both contemplating and conversing with AI. They tiptoed in, signing up for courses while the vibe coders vibed. Many knew they needed to engage but felt stalled by directionless action.
That's when we realized the way through for builders like us wasn't playing—it was purpose.
Finding Alchemy
Centuries before the Gold Rush in the American West came alchemy. While prospectors dug frantically for instant wealth, alchemists pursued "The Great Work" – the belief that true transformation takes purpose and intention. They weren't just trying to make gold. They were trying to break down nature's secrets and become different humans in the process.
As the AI race accelerates, it feels impossible not to ask ourselves "well what's the point"? Something about joining the stampede made us feel smaller. To get off the edge and start building, we needed our own "Great Work."
So we stopped chasing tools and hype, and got clear about who we wanted to serve and why. We started to think about what it would look like to build a business that matters. That's when we found our way to brilliant solo founders, craftspeople, artists, educators, and working moms – people who deserve to thrive in this AI transformation and in whom, let's be honest, we see ourselves.
We know from experience that purposeful work is hard. Anyone else that has tried to build products for teachers or people with disabilities knows what we are talking about. 🙂 Turns out that solo founders are no exception. For them, every dollar and every minute counts. They are notoriously difficult to reach, convert, and satisfy – making the math of serving them impossible to pencil out.
But in the dawn of AI, shouldn't anything feel possible?
The Great Work Starts Here
The difference wasn't the tools—it was getting clear on what we were actually trying to do, for whom, and why we were in the AI arena to begin with.
If you're a solo founder feeling stuck between fear or hype, your Great Work starts with three questions:
Who do you serve? Get as specific as possible about the people whose problems you care about.
What transformation do you help them achieve? Define what you’re uniquely positioned - and excited - to do for them.
How do you want to change alongside AI? In a world of infinite possibility, what matters most to you? What do you want to keep doing and what are you willing to let go of?
The Gold Rush will push us to move fast, play around, chase success. But alchemy teaches us another way – that staying awake to purpose and possibility could make for a more meaningful way to build.
So before you try another tool, try this: spend one hour answering these three questions for yourself (and your business). Write them down. Make them specific. Then let that clarity guide your path in.
Remember, the question isn't whether you're ready for AI. It's how you can use AI to advance your Great Work.