The Prompt Is the Point

Maybe the life you're looking for is waiting for a better question.

The other day I sent the same paragraph to ChatGPT five times.

Five.

The first four times I looked at the screen and thought,

"Nope."

"Still not me."

Too polished."

"Can you make it sound like I'm sitting across from someone over coffee?"

"And could you stop making it sound like I work in Human Resources?" (If you work in HR, I apologize. You know I love you.)

By the fifth time, if dawned on me.

The problem wasn't ChatGPT.

It was me.

I wasn't giving it enough to work with.

These days, ChatGPT has become my full-time editor—the one I wish I could afford.

I bring the stories.

The ideas.

The message.

Sometimes I bring a paragraph that starts in Chattanooga, wanders through an Italian, Catholic childhood in Detroit, makes a quick stop at my husband's cancer journey, and somehow with a life lesson about parallel parking. (Now you see why I need an editor.)

ChatGPT's job is to gently suggest,

"Sandy, maybe...just pick one."

Eventually it responds,

"Okay, how's this?"

Then I respond,

"Nope."

Then it responds,

"How about now?"

Then I respond,

"You're getting closer."

Then it responds,

"How about now?"

And I respond.

"You've got it!!" (I can totally understand how you can almost convince yourself you're talking to a real person...or editor. Almost. Until it says something completely out of left field.)

And somewhere between my fourth revision and my fifth cup of coffee, it hit me.

Maybe ChatGPT isn't the only one responding to our prompts.

Maybe our lives are too.

Think about it.

If I ask my editor to take a look at something, I'll usually get a better version.

But when I become specific...

"Keep my voice. Tighten the writing...the transitions. Make it more conversational. Add a little 'Sandy' humor. Make it unmistakably me."

The response changes completely.

Not because ChatGPT suddenly became smarter.

But because I became clearer about what I wanted.

And isn't that what happens in the Third Act?

So many of us spend decades responding to everyone else's prompts.

Build a career.

Raise kids.

Pay the bills.

Take care of your parents.

Be responsible.

Work harder.

Keep going.

Then one day, the calendar opens up a little...or life throws us a curveball (my husband's leukemia)...and we find ourselves asking,

"Now what?"

It's not a bad question.

It's just a small one.

Small prompts often lead to small answers.

What if we started asking ourselves better questions?

What still makes me curious?

What have I always wanted to learn?

Who am I becoming now?

What kind of friend, partner, parent, grandparent do I want to be?

What traces do I still want to leave so the world will know I was here?

What would make me excited to get out of bed on a Tuesday? (Besides what our friends posted on social media while we were sleeping.)

Now those are prompts worth exploring.

Here's something else ChatGPT has taught me.

The first answer is rarely the best one.

You don't stop there.

You refine.

You ask another question.

You give more context.

You try again.

Sometimes you laugh out loud because what comes back is so far off the mark it's almost impressive.

Little by little, what didn't quite fit begins to sound just right.

Life works that way too.

Your Third Act isn't built in one giant, life changing decision.

It's built one better question at a time.

One adjustment.

One conversation.

One brave little prompt that whispers,

"Maybe there's something more to me than the roles I've been playing."

Now that's a prompt worth living from.

So today, before you ask ChatGPT another question...

Ask yourself one.

Not...

"What should I do?"

But...

"Who do I want to become?"

Because your future is listening.

And just like ChatGPT...

It can only respond to the prompts you've given.

The best part of your story isn't behind you.

It's the Third Act you're writing right now.

No Roles. No Rules. Just You.

P.S. Thanks Ben for the idea.