Notes from the Lab
Hey there,
Experiments have quietly taken over my life. Not in the mad scientist way (my friends might disagree), but how they become my default mode.
This experimental lens now colors (almost) everything I do, from evolving my AI and human skills courses to exploring new ways of being.
I’ve been pushing this philosophy further than ever. Experiments aren’t just projects anymore; they’re showing up in how I work, how I connect with others, and even how I challenge experimentation itself.
These are my notes from the lab, and the joy of stepping away from it.
Learning by Doing
In my AI and human skills courses with Claro, I’ve been doubling down on the idea that learning only sticks if people keep experimenting after learning the foundations.
That’s why participants now leave with a 30-day experiment. They test new behaviors in their own work and report back with accountability. It makes the whole process more alive. More than a framework, it’s practice.
This all ties back to my own AI journey, which really kicked off with my 3 GPTs in 30 Days experiment. That project reminded me of the power of keeping curiosity on a short leash: instead of overthinking, you test, you build, and you adjust. Over and over again.
It’s come full circle: now I’m teaching others to embrace that same experimental mindset with AI.
Fluid Communities
When I started The Cozy Sessions side project, my intention was simple: create spaces for deep conversations between diverse groups, away from the public noise.
Initially, I thought these dinners might grow into a structured community. I let that idea go, but I kept the dinners and discovered something else along the way.
I’m a heavy user of The Breakfast created by Eteri and Lisa. At first, it felt strange when they called it a community. It didn’t look like the structured communities I knew. But their idea of community gave me a taste of something different, lighter, more fluid, that fits me.
My dinners have guests from The Breakfast app, my various work circles, creative communities, and many other different worlds. These collisions of different social ecosystems create conversations that wouldn’t exist otherwise.
Maybe communities today don’t always need structure. Sometimes they’re simply the connections that emerge, in between, when curiosity brings people together.
My closest relationships, my inner circle, are what I value most in life. But they’re not enough for me. There’s something energizing about connecting with new people, sharing perspectives, hanging out spontaneously, staying open to the new. These fluid communities are perfect for that.
In a beautiful contradiction, I found this by experimenting with the absence of control.
The Last Year of My Life
Meanwhile, my personal experiments keep rolling on. Some work hit the mark some crash and burn, but all of them add something to the mix.
More recently, I’ve been experimenting not just within my framework but with the framework itself, trading rigid structure for flow, detailed planning for space to be surprised.
One experiment stands out among all my experiments: The Last Year of My Life (not as dramatic as it sounds). It’s pushed me to embrace uncertainty and let go of the very structures I once relied on.
I’ve been hesitant to share it because it cuts so close to the bone, but maybe that hesitation is just another experiment waiting to happen.
The Joy of Stillness
Experimentation isn’t just for its own sake. It’s a way to explore what we want to improve or change. But experiments also help us decide, settle, and stabilize.
Funny thing about writing about experiments: it makes you notice when experimentation gets preached like a new religion. Even as an experimenter, I reject this endless hunger for more.
Experiments fuel my learning and curiosity, and probably always will. But when they become personal, sometimes experimenting means finding what’s already there. Enough becomes the answer.
What’s more powerful: endlessly reaching for more, or finding joy in someone’s eyes looking directly at you?
Sometimes the most radical experiment is stillness itself.
Stay strong, Gus