Rediscovering Meditation in the Age of AI

The other day, I happened to catch a TV show which was discussing the future of AI. One topic that stood out to me was the discussion over whether AI needs “embodiment”—a physical body and experiences in the real world.

Experts who argue for embodiment believe that intelligence emerges through interaction between the body and the environment. Just like infants learn the concept of “hot,” “painful,” or “heavy” by physically experiencing the world—touching things, falling over—AI, too, would need physical experiences to become truly intelligent.

However, one of the experts on the show took the opposite view. He argued that embodiment is not necessary for intelligence. According to him, intelligence can be acquired through information processing. For instance, we don’t need to fall down to understand that falling hurts; we can grasp that concept through reading or hearing about it. The same logic applies to AI—it can learn appropriate responses simply by processing large volumes of text and conversation data. And in fact, that’s exactly how most AI systems work today.

But it was something he said at the end that really struck me:

“Actually, our daily communication is not so different from AI. Most of our conversations are based on abstract concepts rather than direct bodily experiences.”

That comment gave me pause.

I thought back to the typical conversations in my daily life. “When will this task be done?” “I’ll finish it by next week.” There’s no physical sensation involved in that exchange. Even something as seemingly tangible as “What should we eat today?” “Let’s have curry,” depends only on shared concepts. No one actually tastes the curry in that moment—we’re just exchanging labels we’ve all agreed on. It made me realize just how much of human communication is built on concepts, classifications, and labels—much like AI.

In many spiritual teachings, it’s often said that the act of labeling—assigning names, categories, and definitions—is the primary function of the ego. I realized that I, too, go through daily life constantly labeling everything around me: “This is A,” “That is B,” neatly organizing the world through concepts. But when we live entirely within this conceptual framework, we’re essentially living through the ego alone—detached from direct experience, and entangled in mental constructs.

Until then, I had never thought of life in terms of “concepts vs. experience.” But in that moment, something clicked. I began to understand why practices like meditation and present-moment awareness are often emphasized.

To be honest, I’ve always struggled with meditation. Observing the breath? Watching your thoughts? It always felt boring and pointless. Even when people said, “It calms the mind,” I never fully understood why that mattered.

But through this AI discussion, I finally saw the connection. When I meditate and focus intensely on the feeling of my breath, I’m doing something I can’t label easily. “Inhale” and “exhale” are usually unconscious actions, but once I become aware of their sensations, concepts and words will no longer capture them. In that state, the ego—and its constant labeling—goes quiet. For a moment, there’s a pause between me and the world of concepts.

And perhaps that’s what meditation is really about: intentionally turning off the ego.

We usually live with our egos constantly active, operating entirely in the world of concepts. But by grounding ourselves in the present moment, we can interrupt that endless labeling—even just briefly—and let the mind rest. That, I realized, is the true value of meditation.

I never expected that the rise of AI would make me realize just how much I’ve also been living in a world of labels and symbols. I always assumed that, as a human, I must be more connected to my physical and emotional experience. But the fact that I can have a perfectly normal conversation with AI shows that I, too, have been deeply immersed in this symbolic exchange—much like AI itself.

Of course, we can get through daily life without meditation. But sometimes, managing our everyday tasks becomes the goal itself, and we end up forgetting what it really means to be alive.

So now, I think it might be worth trying meditation again—now that it makes a little more sense to me.