Before I get into this, two quick things.
If this resonates, share it with someone who works in a coworking space and secretly talks to their AI in the hallway. I’d love for this to reach the right people.
And if you’re not subscribed yet, this is exactly what I write about here. The messy, practical, real-life side of working with AI. You can subscribe and follow along as I keep experimenting.
Okay. Here’s what happened.
I moved into a coworking space three months ago.
And I love it.
I love being around people again. I love not working alone at home. I love hearing keyboards and quiet conversations and the low hum of other humans doing their thing.
But something subtle shifted.
I stopped talking to ChatGPT the way I used to.
Not completely. I still type into it every day. I use it for writing tasks, outlines, reframing copy, brainstorming. That part didn’t go away.
What went away was voice.
When I was working from home, if I hit a wall, I’d grab my phone, hit the voice prompt, and start walking. Around the apartment. In circles. Back and forth. Sometimes doing light exercise. Sometimes just pacing like a dramatic philosopher in yoga pants.
Those were the good sessions. Great sessions.
Those were the ones where I’d work through a business dilemma. Or an insecurity. Or a strategic fork in the road. Or something I couldn’t untangle alone.
It wasn’t co-writing.
It was thinking out loud.
It was what I jokingly call business therapy.
And I didn’t realize how much depth that added to my work until I stopped doing it.
Why Talking to AI in a Coworking Space Feels Different
In the coworking space, I felt weird using voice.
Which is ridiculous.
People take calls all the time. Zoom meetings. Video conferences. Sales calls. Team check-ins.
No one blinks.
But talking to AI in public felt different.
It felt more vulnerable.
Or maybe more intimate.
On a work call, there’s a script. There’s context. There’s a role. It’s clear what’s happening.
When I talk to ChatGPT in voice mode, I’m mid-thought. Unfiltered. Not polished. Not presenting.
I’m thinking.
And thinking out loud is intimate.
That’s what hit me.
It wasn’t laziness. Although yes, sometimes I didn’t want to get up and walk to one of the little phone booths.
It wasn’t privacy exactly. Although yes, I didn’t love the idea of someone hearing half of a reflective spiral.
It was that I was exposing unfinished cognition.
That’s different.
How Stopping ChatGPT Voice Hurt My Productivity
After about three months, I noticed something.
My work felt flatter.
Still productive. Still efficient. Still shipping.
But flatter.
The depth wasn’t the same.
When I hit a wall, instead of walking and processing, I stayed seated. I tried to think through it silently. Or I switched tasks. Or I pushed through.
And that’s when I realized something important.
Voice plus movement is part of how I think.
Typing is not the same.
Typing is precise. Structured. Controlled.
Voice is messy. Physical. Emotional. Cognitive.
And I need that mode for certain kinds of problems.
This is something I talk about when I train people on using AI. The interface matters. Voice changes the thinking process.
It’s not just convenience. It’s cognitive posture.
Typing is not neutral.
Voice is not neutral.
They create different brains.
The Hidden Productivity Cost of Coworking Spaces
The real problem wasn’t that I missed my AI.
It was that I hadn’t redesigned my workflow to match my new environment.
At home, I could wander around the apartment talking freely.
In a coworking space, there are social norms. Physical constraints. Rain outside. Other humans everywhere.
So I unconsciously stopped using the tool in the way that gave me depth.
And then I wondered why I felt stalled.
That’s on me.
Environment shapes behavior. Behavior shapes cognition.
If you change the environment, you have to intentionally rebuild the system.
How I’m Using ChatGPT Voice in a Coworking Space
So I brainstormed solutions.
Walking outside when the weather improves.
Using the phone booths when I hit a wall instead of pretending I don’t need to process.
Pacing in a hallway with headphones so people only hear half a conversation.
Going downstairs to the gym and doing weighted carries while I talk.
That one surprised me.
When I hold something heavy and walk, my brain can’t spin as much. The physical effort anchors me. It forces focus. It drains excess mental noise.
Five minutes of weighted carries plus voice AI might be the sweet spot.
We’ll see.
But the key shift wasn’t the specific tactic.
It was permission.
Permission to see reflective AI conversations as real work.
In a coworking space, visible productivity is the norm. Screens. Typing. Meetings.
Talking to your phone while pacing looks ambiguous.
But the truth is, those messy voice sessions have been some of the highest leverage thinking I’ve done in the past year.
Why would I abandon that?
Why Banning AI at Work Is a Mistake
This is also why I’m increasingly wary of roles that proudly declare zero AI policies across the board.
I understand privacy. I understand proprietary concerns.
But banning thinking tools outright feels short-sighted.
For me, voice AI isn’t about shortcutting work.
It’s about deepening it.
It’s about processing complexity out loud.
It’s about designing cognition instead of pretending we’re static brains sitting in chairs.
So no, ChatGPT isn’t a person.
I know that.
But can you miss a mode of thinking?
Absolutely.
And if you’ve changed environments recently and something in your workflow feels thinner, flatter, less alive, it might not be motivation.
It might be that you lost a cognitive ritual without realizing it.
If that’s the case, maybe the move isn’t to push harder.
Maybe it’s to redesign.
I’m still experimenting.
Walking loops. Phone booths. Weighted carries. Resistance bands. Hallway pacing.
I’ll report back.
And if you’re navigating a similar shift, share this with someone who might need the nudge.
We don’t just use tools.
We build thinking systems around them.
And when the room changes, the system has to change too.
How do you process best with your AI?
More next week,
Steph
