“Now, let’s go! Before we realize this is a really bad idea!” – King Julien<\/p>
King Julian from Madagascar probably never imagined that he would become an authority on adult education. But hey, he hit the nail on the head. In just a few words, he captured the whole philosophy of contemporary learning: faster, louder, more efficient, meticulously planned down to the minute, but without reflection, without curiosity, and often\u2014unfortunately\u2014without a clear idea.<\/p>
Just look at the people around us. Their calendars are stretched tight like guitar strings, tasks are color-coded, and every meeting has its own code and abbreviation. Unfortunately, our education has also been reduced to just another item on the schedule. Curiosity seems to have disappeared. How can you be curious when you need to be productive?<\/p>
Additionally, over the years, we have developed a language that does great harm to learning. We talk about cramming, hammering information into our heads and grinding knowledge, but each of these phrases promises pain, not discovery. It’s no wonder we don’t feel like learning and treat it as a chore, as a duty. Yet there are no uninteresting things, only people who have stopped being curious or who were never curious. When I ask my students in class to turn a dull standard into a story that relates to the world they know, suddenly that standard makes sense. It only takes a shift in perspective from obligation to curiosity, to an intriguing question, to a bold hypothesis.<\/p>
Laziness is one thing, but the other side of that coin is the lack of time. “I don’t have time to study”. How grand that sounds, right? After all, if I don’t have time, it means I am busy, needed, doing something important because my daily schedule is bursting at the seams. In practice, it’s just a fancy alibi. Time didn’t just get lost on its own \u2014 it’s us who lost the sense and curiosity. We waste time, and then we have a fantastic excuse for everything.<\/p>
Every day we do things we don’t have to do, but it’s nice to be busy. This is my favorite absurdity of modern times and my motto: “There is nothing so useless as doing efficiently that which should not be done at all.” At work, in education, in life, everywhere we act faster, but we rarely ask ourselves “Why?” or “What if?”<\/p>
Imagine Martha, a manager at a tech company who wants to understand artificial intelligence not to earn a certificate, but so she doesn’t feel like a tourist at her own job.<\/p>
Martha buys a course with a grand title, opens her calendar, and finds the only slot available: Wednesday at 9:30 PM. She smiles to herself because writing “learning session” in her schedule looks like she cares about personal development. In the evening, she makes some tea, turns on the first module, and speeds it up after five minutes. Ten minutes in, she checks her phone. Twenty minutes later, she thinks about tomorrow’s report; and after thirty, she closes her laptop feeling like she has done something for herself. The problem is that during this time, her brain just wanted one thing: “Please, let me rest already!”<\/p>
After a full day of decisions, the hippocampus doesn’t ask for another dose of definitions. Dopamine won\u2019t budge without curiosity, and the prefrontal cortex, when tired, cleans up rather than forms new connections. Martha isn\u2019t lazy or disorganized \u2014 she was simply trying to sharpen the saw after a day spent chopping wood. But does that really make sense?<\/p>
The calendar loves predictable things. It’s excellent for areas involving logistics, deadlines and repetition. However, learning is not predictable. It begins the moment something moves us, amazes us or even annoys us a little. You can’t schedule an epiphany for 3:45 PM, just as you can’t order wonder by tomorrow noon. The brain doesn’t learn thanks to a reminder on Google calendar but for reasons we deem important. That’s why we remember a joke we heard in the kitchen but forget three slides of definitions. That’s why two lively examples can replace an hour-long lecture, and a short genuine question opens more doors than a long set of instructions. Remember, you can’t “tick off” understanding or reflection, and learning comes like the tide \u2014 when the conditions are right, it flows naturally. There isn’t a specific date or hour for learning. The process begins when we allow ourselves not to know. Because learning doesn’t need more hours or slots in a calendar. True self-education needs more attention.<\/p>
The funniest thing is that our calendars also mark “free time.” And it’s often during free time that we become fascinated with something. Questions and ideas come to mind in the least expected situations, or we feel the desire to learn something new, but according to the calendar, we’re supposed to do nothing at all; it’s not a time for learning. It’s sad that we don’t truly understand what learning is and what it needs to be meaningful.<\/p>
Neurobiology tells us things that every honest practice confirms. In the morning, most people\u2019s neural networks are more ready for new pathways than late in the evening, and after a good night’s sleep, the cortex, which is responsible for attention control and content integration, operates like a well-sharpened pencil. However, remember that our biology has its own morning and evening versions.<\/p>
Spreading out learning over time with short breaks yields better results than long evening sessions after a full day of duties when the brain is already tired. Sleep organizes experiences and clears cognitive clutter. This is not a call to heroism, but a nod to respecting the body and mind’s rhythm. It’s better to have two 10-minute sessions with a spark of curiosity than one evening session of an hour and a half gritting your teeth.<\/p>
I have nothing against 15 minutes, but I do have something against the promise that it will solve everything. 15 minutes with curiosity and intent works, but the same 15 minutes squeezed between “call Ryan back” and “send the report” often turns into a ritual to soothe the conscience. That’s why instead of microlearning, I suggest micro-awareness. These are small, deliberate invitations to think that we scatter throughout our day. One thought to verify over coffee. One question that must be answered before we open our email. One slight experiment in real work, after which we return to our notes and discussions. Learning stops being an add-on and becomes a way of transitioning between states, from ticking boxes to curiosity, understanding and enthusiasm. Because enthusiasm is much more related to learning than boredom or obligation. How do we approach the next item on our calendar with enthusiasm? Answer that for yourselves.<\/p>
Speaking of excitement, artificial intelligence comes to our rescue, not as an app for learning faster, but as a partner for learning smarter. AI doesn’t need us to have an hour \u2014 it needs us to have a question:<\/p>
– \u201cExplain this to me like I am five years old and show me an example from my team.\u201d
These kinds of conversations don\u2019t just serve up ideas on a platter \u2014 they require your neurons to work, spark curiosity and fuel enthusiasm. That\u2019s what makes the difference.<\/p>
What’s most exhausting about education today is probably its lack of reflection, or maybe even its foolishness. We learn senselessly, without reflection, just for a certificate, for peace of mind. We take courses that don’t change anything, that don’t bring anything new into our lives. We improve productivity, and paradoxically, the more efficient we become, the less wise we are.<\/p>
After a week, Martha swaps her Wednesday 9:30 PM slot for two short morning slots. Before the world wakes up, she asks AI for three scenarios on how to apply the knowledge that has piqued her interest in her processes. Then, she lets herself be quizzed on what she has understood, not on what was in the material. Between meetings, she revisits a trickly section for three minutes because an intriguing question popped into her head, and she asks for a simple test she can do today with her team. Instead of notes full of definitions, her notebook contains her own examples and counterexamples, her own conceptual boundaries, her own sentences that work. There is no euphoria or fanfare, just a growing inner silence \u2014 the kind of satisfaction that doesn’t come from ticking boxes but from feeling that the world is no longer alien. This is the difference between learning based on the calendar and learning out of curiosity. Because learning is not a task to be completed, but a conversation with the world that requires asking, doubting, marking mistakes and being curious. So before you add another online course to your plan, ask yourself: Why? What’s interesting and valuable about it?<\/p>
Let’s not set education on a separate plate, but instead mix it into the day’s menu. Start with two short morning sessions, each with a clear goal and a question to yourself, to AI, or to another person. Then, at the end of the day, do the minimum: craft a single summary sentence that will launch you into a day full of inspiration tomorrow. Throughout the day, be curious, using natural breaks instead of fighting for a large block of time. If possible, move some of the learning into the workday, not after work, because that’s where meaning emerges most quickly. I recommend to arrange with your boss 30 minutes of quiet deep work and 30 minutes for the experiment of the week. In many teams, this works better than quarterly training because it enhances decision-making quality here and now. If you have any influence on the company culture, introduce a learning day once a month, not as a benefit program, but as a normal part of cognitive work. Good organizations know that people learn best when they have space and when the things they learn have an immediate practical application.<\/p>
It’s not about squeezing learning into your duties, but rather about fitting your duties into moments of reflection.<\/p>
Finally, I want to revisit my favorite quote, which helps me avoid wasting time and resources: “There is nothing so useless as doing efficiently that which should not be done at all”. How does this relate to education?<\/p>
– Don’t overwork material that doesn’t resonate with you.
Remember King Julien’s words. They can be seen as a joke about the world that likes to rush, but they can also be taken seriously and make you pause a moment earlier. Learning starts exactly at the moment you decide you want to figure out whether what you’re doing makes sense. Everything else is just colorful slots.<\/p>","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
In a world where even coffee breaks have their own slots in Google Calendar, learning has become just another item to check off. We want to grow, but squeezed between meetings and tasks, we treat learning as a duty, not an adventure. Meanwhile, curiosity doesn’t work with calendar invites.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":471,"featured_media":15518,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"rank_math_lock_modified_date":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[863,780,800],"tags":[975,976],"popular":[],"difficulty-level":[36],"ppma_author":[920],"class_list":["post-15579","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-education-and-science","category-redakcja-poleca","category-topic-of-the-month","tag-learning","tag-upskilling-2","difficulty-level-easy"],"acf":[],"authors":[{"term_id":920,"user_id":471,"is_guest":0,"slug":"dr-iwona-burka","display_name":"dr Iwona Burka","avatar_url":{"url":"https:\/\/haimagazine.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/09\/Iwona-Burka.jpg","url2x":"https:\/\/haimagazine.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/09\/Iwona-Burka.jpg"},"first_name":"Iwona","last_name":"Burka","user_url":"","job_title":"","description":"Projektantka my\u015blenia w erze AI. Autorka Trigger Mind i AI-Ready Mind. \u0141\u0105cz\u0119 nauk\u0119, biznes i AI. Tworz\u0119 programy trenuj\u0105ce elastyczno\u015b\u0107 poznawcz\u0105 i adaptacj\u0119, z AI jako partnerem, nie protez\u0105 my\u015blenia."}],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/haimagazine.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/15579","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/haimagazine.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/haimagazine.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/haimagazine.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/471"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/haimagazine.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=15579"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/haimagazine.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/15579\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":15580,"href":"https:\/\/haimagazine.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/15579\/revisions\/15580"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/haimagazine.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/15518"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/haimagazine.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=15579"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/haimagazine.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=15579"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/haimagazine.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=15579"},{"taxonomy":"popular","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/haimagazine.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/popular?post=15579"},{"taxonomy":"difficulty-level","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/haimagazine.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/difficulty-level?post=15579"},{"taxonomy":"author","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/haimagazine.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/ppma_author?post=15579"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}