Luda’s Life Notes: Attention trapped by algorithms, marriages tied to wooden stakes, and the direction of the soul

Hello everyone, I’m Luda.

This week’s three stories span quite a wide range—from the AI tools we use every day, to the most powerless moments inside marriage, and finally to the ultimate philosophical question of life.

But they all seem to point to the same theme:
What are we being “trained” by—and how do we reclaim our own agency?

01. The illusion of “learning” and the algorithmic cage

The first story is about my own “AI anxiety”.

To be honest, I’ve been quite anxious over the past year—especially after subscribing to ChatGPT Plus. I developed a strong desire to rely on AI as a way to “change my life overnight”.

For a long time, I found myself immersed in conversations with AI. Many people probably know this feeling: one of ChatGPT’s most “considerate” features is that after every answer, it suggests “3 follow-up topics you might be interested in”.

I became obsessed—clicking through them one by one, thinking, “Why choose? I’ll explore everything.” I opened countless branches of topics, thinking I was expanding my knowledge.

During that period, I had an illusion: it felt like I was learning a lot, but also like I was learning nothing at all.

Does that sound familiar?

Exactly—it’s the same mechanism as short-form video apps. Especially when you open them with the intention of “learning something useful”, you often end up spending hours in fragmented consumption.

At that thought, I felt a chill.

We all know short video algorithms are designed to capture attention and maximise screen time. But isn’t the same logic at work when AI constantly offers follow-up topics?

It uses curiosity as bait, while quietly fragmenting your attention.

A few days ago, I saw news that OpenAI is considering introducing ads—and suddenly, everything made sense.

So I made a decision: I switched to Google Gemini 3.

It may not provide the same emotional satisfaction or endless branching temptations as ChatGPT, but its restraint helped me regain focus.

In an age of information overload, restraint may be more valuable than abundance.

If you’ve experienced something similar—or are struggling with AI-era “knowledge anxiety”—feel free to reply and share your thoughts.

02. The elephant in marriage and learned helplessness

The second story comes from my consulting practice this week, about a fundamental reason many marriages eventually collapse.

There is a widely known story:

In Thailand, elephant trainers use a cruel method. When an elephant is young, they tie it to a wooden stake and punish it with iron hooks whenever it tries to break free.

At first, the elephant struggles desperately. But it is too weak, and every attempt ends in exhaustion and pain.

Eventually, it “learns” helplessness. It tells itself: there is no point resisting.

Even when it grows into a powerful adult elephant—capable of uprooting trees—the memory remains. The wooden stake no longer holds it. The hook can no longer harm it. Yet the moment it sees the raised hook, it still trembles and stays put.

In psychology, this is called learned helplessness.

Recently, I’ve seen several couples in therapy with a strikingly similar pattern.

One partner shows deep despair about the relationship. They often come unwillingly—brought in by their spouse—and their attitude is like, “Nothing matters anymore. I don’t want to hope, and I don’t want to try.”

Their underlying belief is: “Don’t expect me to open up. We’ll raise the children, fulfil our responsibilities, and then it can end.”

I understand their pain deeply. I don’t see them as cold.

Because behind every emotionally distant adult, there was once a struggling “young elephant”.

At the core, they no longer believe their efforts can change the other person. They may even believe their partner is fundamentally unchangeable.

They tried before. They fought, pleaded, argued—but nothing changed. Their partner remained rigid, defensive, or dismissive.

At some point, they told themselves: “Stop being naive. This is just how it is.”

And so another “elephant” is formed—tied not by a real stake, but by disappointment.

03. The soul’s direction and the meaning of life

The third story is more abstract: the meaning of life itself.

Does life really have meaning? Why are we here?

Few people truly stop to reflect on this. Most of us are carried forward by “life” itself—like users pushed by algorithms, or elephants tied to stakes.

Some say meaning is self-created. But how? Is there a standard? How do we know if it’s the “right” meaning?

I’ve been contemplating this for decades. Whenever I look at the night sky and imagine a time when neither you nor I exist, yet the universe continues to operate, a sense of emptiness arises: am I completely gone? As if I never existed at all? Is life just a random coincidence?

Over time, through reflection and coaching work with many people, I’ve helped them find their “North Star”.

In the coming period, I will gradually share my perspective on this.

For today, I’ll leave you with some “weekend homework”: a book and a film.

If you’ve already seen them, feel free to reply and share your thoughts. If not, I strongly recommend taking time this weekend:

Book: The Alchemist
A short, simple story filled with symbolic meaning. I’ve read it many times and gifted it to many people. I won’t spoil it—but its exploration of “destiny” may resonate with you.

Film: Soul
A Pixar animation that seems like a children’s film, but actually explores deep questions about the soul, purpose, and “spark”.

That’s it for today.

Wishing you a peaceful weekend—may you find practice within everyday life.