Part 4: What Makes Me Different From a Robot?
- Miranda Holder
- Aug 16
- 2 min read
Updated: Sep 10

In my rowing and college coaching days, I used to work like a robot, pushing through at all costs (without coffee!). My taste buds never got used to the bitterness.
But that kind of relentless output comes at an energetic cost.
And while its energy never flags, a machine will never experience what happens when we step away, rest, and return with a new way of seeing.
I noticed this long before I had language for it.
A few years ago, I partnered with a colleague on a project and had to work late into the night to complete our presentation.
(For the record, I’ve been keeping farmer’s hours my whole life. Ask anyone who was friends with me when I was 15-35. I fell asleep at parties like it was my job.)
I ended up making it to bed by midnight, and the next morning, I woke up with a completely different way of seeing our presentation. The arguments were sharper, and the through-line that had been missing was suddenly obvious.
Nothing about the content had changed, but my mind had.
This is one of the quiet advantages of being human.
During sleep (particularly REM sleep), the brain creates new associations between distinct memories, linking concepts in ways we could never engineer consciously. It’s a form of nonlinear reorganization that is impossible without rest, sleep or otherwise.
AI can process without pause, but it doesn’t sleep, and it doesn’t dream. Which means it will never have this kind of insight – the unpredictable, original connections that emerge only after we step away.
And it’s not just sleep. I’ve had similar moments in the shower, hiking, unloading the dishwasher, pulling weeds – times when my attention wandered and a fresh perspective appeared.
Neuroscience research points to this: toggling between focusing on a task and taking a break. We’re using the Task-Positive Network of our brains when we’re focused and in the present moment. When we step away to let our minds wander, we use our Default Mode Network. We’re replaying the past or dreaming about the future. Toggling back and forth creates better brain integration and allows us to make better connections between ideas, be more creative, and have a more balanced perspective on whatever we’re facing.
We tend to think of our biological limits (fatigue, the need for breaks, downtime) as weaknesses. But they’re not. They’re features of a system designed for creativity, depth, and originality.
Machines can work without stopping; humans make meaning in the spaces in between.
If you’ve been grinding for an answer, remember that creativity isn’t only about bearing down, it’s about giving your mind time to wander, reorganize, and surprise you.
Robots may keep producing without pause, but the kind of insight you’re craving doesn’t come from more grinding. It comes from learning how to honor your limits and let your own embodied intelligence do its work.
That’s the heart of what I teach in my 1:1 coaching – how to move through your career and life with the kind of clarity and creativity that only emerges when you stop performing like a machine and start leading like a human.





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