I've spent the last few years going deep into AI, automation, and technology. I've built websites, applications, AI agents, automated workflows, and entire systems on my own machines. I can code and I can usually build a solution to almost any practical problem.
That's also where the danger lies. When you can automate almost anything, you easily start imagining that almost everything is worth automating.
AI can help you do more, but it can also just make the wrong work faster. It won't decide for me whether the whole thing is worth doing in the first place.
Technical skill wasn't my problem
For a long time I thought the next level would come from a better system. Too many tasks? Build an automation. Projects spiraling out of control? Build a dashboard. Communication taking too long? Build an agent.
Many of those solutions have been useful. AI helps me with writing, sales preparation, research, reporting, and routines. I've been able to do things alone that would have required a small team just a few years ago.
At the same time, I noticed I was also doing more efficiently the things that weren't taking me anywhere.
I was spreading my time across too many things and needed clearer priorities.
Canceling Pälkäne Summer Days was a hard but important decision
Pälkäne Summer Days is the most concrete example.
The event was far along. The venue was secured. A broad artist lineup had been arranged for two days, along with a host and other programming. Ticketing, the website, marketing, partnerships, and practical production had all progressed. A lot of work had gone into the event.
And it could have gone just fine.
That's exactly why canceling it was so hard. It's easy to kill a project that isn't moving forward or one you no longer believe in. Much harder is saying no to a project that's interesting, fun, and potentially successful.
I had to assess whether the event's finances and production plans were sustainable. I ultimately decided I couldn't justify committing so much of my time, energy, and money to it.
The decision was sealed by a very personal observation: I noticed I was starting to forget things I normally wouldn't forget. A few mishaps happened along the way, and I realized I was so overloaded that the situation was no longer sensible. That was the moment I thought: something has to give now. Just making things more efficient wasn't enough anymore. The load genuinely had to come down.
Even a small festival requires production, personnel, permits, safety, marketing, infrastructure, and a massive amount of coordination. A large share of the responsibility was practically on me. Even if I had automated communication, social media, task lists, and tracking as far as they'd go, that wouldn't have removed the event's financial risk or the fact that my attention would have been locked on one heavy project for months.
The event could have turned out well, but possible success alone wasn't enough justification to continue.
I decided to focus my energy on things that support me better over the long term: day job, sales, developing my technical skills, more sustainable projects, and building the next phase of my career. At the same time, I decided to reduce the projects where almost all the work and responsibility fall to me.
In hindsight, canceling the event was a bigger productivity decision than any automation I could have built around it.
After canceling, I had more time in the calendar and less to worry about.
I've been learning to say no to good things too
Prioritization easily sounds like cutting out the unpleasant and bad things. In reality, the hardest part is cutting good things.
I have to pass on some fun and interesting projects, even when I could do them and they might turn out well.
This has been a big shift for me. I'm a builder by nature. I get excited about a new idea easily and quickly see how it could be done. Technical skill reinforces this, because the barrier to starting a new project is low. I can build a site, a system, or an automation fast and make an idea look real before I've even decided whether it belongs in my life.
That's why I've adopted a simpler rule: one real top priority at a time. Other ideas can wait. If something new comes in, something old has to go out.
This doesn't feel as efficient as building a new system. But in practice, it works better.
A full calendar doesn't automatically mean good business
The same thinking has changed how I approach DJ gigs.
I used to think a packed calendar was a sign things were going well. When weekends are full of gigs, it looks like demand is there and things are moving.
I've been DJing for a long time. The customer also pays for years of experience, the ability to read a crowd, reliability, and preparation so the night runs without unnecessary hassle. A gig's real cost also isn't just the time spent on stage. It includes preparation, travel, the late night, and often a chunk of the next day's energy.
When you add all that up, there's no point competing at the market's cheapest end or taking every offered gig just to have an entry in the calendar.
I raised my prices for weddings and other private gigs by about 40 percent. I believe people value quality over the lowest possible price for their important days. Weddings and other one-off celebrations aren't situations where most people want to risk saving in the wrong place. When the moment really matters, you want a skilled and reliable professional there.
I've also been learning to accept that not everyone will buy after the increase. That's part of it. I want gigs where the price reflects the work involved.
If some weekends stay free in a given month, I no longer automatically think I've lost something. A free weekend means rest, better recovery, and more energy for the day job. That can improve next week's sales, decision-making, and overall daily quality more than one poorly priced gig would improve the bank balance.
Not everything needs to be turned into money right away. Rest has value too.
I decide what is worth doing first
I use AI daily and believe its role at work will keep growing. But I've changed the order in which I work.
First I decide what matters. Then I figure out what's actually blocking progress. Only after that do I ask whether AI or automation can help.
If the bottleneck is a bad offer, you need a better offer. If the problem is a price that's too low, you need the courage to reprice. If the calendar is full of the wrong work, you need to turn some of it down.
AI works best when the direction is already chosen. It can speed up research, prepare options, handle repetition, and free up time for work where human judgment, experience, and responsibility are what make the difference.
But it doesn't get to choose the direction just because it makes doing more of everything possible.
I don't want to use AI to cram more doing into my life
I'm still technical, curious, and excited by new possibilities. I'll definitely keep building new systems and automations. The difference is that I no longer treat volume of activity as the most important metric.
I want to do fewer things, but ones that genuinely produce results, grow my skills, or move my life in the direction I want.
I want to use AI so that important things get more time.
Sometimes that means building a new tool. Sometimes raising a price or leaving a weekend empty. And sometimes it means canceling an entire festival, even if it could have turned out great.