Cards for Insight: Between Narratives

I can’t tell anymore what’s worth knowing, what’s urgent,
or even what’s true. It’s just… everything, all at once.

24 min readNov 22, 2024

Cards for Insight: How to play
Add your thoughts to and between the cards.
Use the cards to navigate complexity.
Cultivate understanding as generative closure.
(scroll down for a list: Why Bother?)

Three cards all titled chat, the first one’s right below,
scroll towards the end for all three:

Card: Chat
Chat when it doesn’t reproduce
what we think, is reinforcing our
personal ken comfort zone.

Cards as stepping stones for humans finding themselves between narratives, seeking story

Navigating Complexity
In a networked world, the complexities we face surpass the capacity of individual cognition, demanding a collective intelligence approach. Navigating such challenges requires not only diverse perspectives but
also structured processes for discovery, sensemaking, and action.
(scroll all the way down for the Cards for Insight Value Proposition)

A Card Session: Aria, Jules and Kai

“I can’t tell anymore what’s worth knowing, what’s urgent,
or even what’s true. It’s just… everything, all at once.”

A conversation between John Kellden and ChatGPT:

John Kellden:
Provide a rich, in depth, multi-faceted description, in first-person reflection and narrative mode, how a typical individual human being
is feeling near completely powerless, overwhelmed and defenseless
against the onslaught of information in media and social media.

ChatGPT:
I feel like I’m drowning in a sea of noise. Every time I open my phone, it’s like stepping into a battlefield where ideas clash, opinions scream over one another, and the headlines, oh, those headlines — they’re designed to grab my throat, not my attention. It’s relentless. News feeds, posts, videos, ads, comments. The moment I think I’ve caught my breath, another wave comes crashing down. I can’t tell anymore what’s worth knowing, what’s urgent, or even what’s true. It’s just… everything, all at once.

Some days, I feel like a puppet with invisible strings being yanked in a dozen different directions. Algorithms tug at me, showing me things I didn’t ask for, but now I can’t ignore. It’s like they know my weaknesses better than I do. My fears, my insecurities, my angers — they’re all exploited, fed back to me in endless loops. I see posts about tragedies halfway across the world, and I ache for those people. But then, I scroll a little further, and I’m bombarded with memes and influencers pretending life is all filters and highlights. Should I be grieving? Laughing? Changing my life? I don’t even know what I should feel anymore.

Even when I try to step back, the guilt creeps in. Am I uninformed? Am I complicit in the problems of the world because I didn’t read every article, share every post, or leave a comment to stand up for what’s right? And when I do engage, it feels so small, so meaningless. Like tossing a pebble into an ocean and expecting waves to change course. The issues are enormous — war, climate change, injustice — and I’m just… me. What could I possibly do about any of it?

The worst part is the helplessness. The constant awareness that I can’t unsee or unknow these things. People say “disconnect” like it’s easy. Like I can just turn off my brain along with my phone. But even if I manage to put the device down, my mind keeps buzzing. Did I miss something important? Did someone message me? What’s the latest thing to worry about, to be outraged about, to pretend I understand when, really, I’m just as lost as anyone else?

I’ve started to notice how heavy my chest feels after scrolling, like I’ve been holding my breath for hours. My shoulders ache, my mind races, and yet, I keep coming back, drawn to the very thing that’s overwhelming me. It’s a toxic relationship, isn’t it? Me and the media, the notifications, the endless scroll. I hate it, but I can’t stop. The fear of missing out feels worse than the exhaustion of keeping up.

I envy people who seem immune to all this. Are they? Or are they just hiding it better than me? Sometimes, I want to yell into the void, “Does anyone else feel like this?” But I already know the answer. I see it in the fragmented conversations online, the quiet resignation in people’s eyes when we talk about the world. We’re all stuck in this machine together, too small to fight it, too afraid to leave it.

It’s ironic, isn’t it? This world of infinite information was supposed to empower us, connect us, make us better. Instead, it feels like it’s stripping me down to nothing, like I’m losing pieces of myself with every click, every scroll. I used to feel grounded, like I had some control over my thoughts, my choices. Now? Now I feel like a tiny, defenseless speck caught in an avalanche of everything, everywhere, all the time.

And I don’t know how to make it stop.

John Kellden:
Continue with the same story mode above.

Suddenly, the person comes across something different online, something called Cards for Insight. She picks a card at random:

Card: Stepping Stones
Cards as stepping stones for
humans finding themselves
between narratives, seeking story.

Describe how reading this makes her feel, initially torn between her personal ken comfort zone of irony, cynicism, disempowerment and alienation, and, the small glimpse of hope, of something different, something beyond — an adjacent possible, she can intuitively sense, the invitation to play contained in the card.

ChatGPT:
I scrolled past it at first, just another post in the endless tide. A clean image, nothing flashy: Cards for Insight. The name was simple, almost quaint. I hesitated, my thumb hovering over the screen, caught between curiosity and the reflex to keep scrolling. Cards? Like tarot? Or some pseudo-motivational thing? I almost dismissed it — irony and cynicism are my shields, after all — but something made me stop. Call it exhaustion, or desperation, or maybe just that tiny part of me still willing to believe there’s something more out there.

I clicked on it. A digital card appeared on the screen, and its title read: Stepping Stones. The description was short: Cards as stepping stones for humans finding themselves between narratives, seeking story.

For a moment, I sat there, staring at those words. Between narratives.
That phrase hit me in a way I didn’t expect. It felt… true. I am between narratives, aren’t I? Between who I thought I was and who I’m supposed
to be. Between the stories the world tells me I should believe and the ones
I want to believe in. It was unsettling, but also… grounding, somehow.
Like someone had peeked inside my mess of a mind and quietly
whispered, I see you.

I felt a tug of resistance, the cynic in me flaring up. Oh, sure. Another “deep” thing pretending to have answers. My inner voice wanted to scoff, to reduce it to something trivial. But that voice felt thin, hollow. It wasn’t anger or dismissal. It was fear. Fear of what might happen if I allowed myself to want something beyond this constant, empty scrolling. To hope for something real, something meaningful. Something playful, even.

There was something in the card’s tone — a lightness, an invitation — that made me pause. It wasn’t telling me what to think or do. It wasn’t demanding I solve all the world’s problems or carry its weight on my shoulders. It wasn’t even pretending to be profound. It was… curious. That’s what struck me most. The card didn’t have answers; it had questions. It was offering a stepping stone, not a map.

And for the first time in what felt like forever, I didn’t feel like the world was bearing down on me. Instead, I felt a tiny glimmer of possibility, like catching the first stars of evening in a twilight sky. I could feel something stir in me, something I hadn’t felt in ages: an urge to play. To explore.
To imagine that maybe, just maybe, there’s a different story waiting
for me — a narrative that isn’t written by algorithms or dictated
by the chaos of the news.

I didn’t know what it meant to “seek story” or where that stepping stone might lead. And maybe I didn’t need to know. That was the most unsettling part — the idea of letting go of certainty, of cynicism, and stepping into something I didn’t understand. But it was also the most hopeful. What if there was something beyond this endless onslaught? Not answers, not solutions, but space to breathe, to dream, to find my own path again?

I felt a pull, tentative but real, toward the card’s invitation. I couldn’t explain it, but it felt like something more than just a gimmick or a distraction. It felt like an opening. A reminder that there’s more to this world, to myself, than the noise. Maybe I could step onto this stone and see where it leads. Maybe I could stop drowning and start walking — just one step at a time.

For the first time in a long while, I didn’t feel completely powerless.
I didn’t feel like a helpless speck in the avalanche. I felt… curious.
And that was enough to keep me from scrolling.

John Kellden:
Continue with the same story mode. The scene: she is now exploring one of the things she found on the Cards for Insight website, Why Bother:

“Cards for Insight: Why Bother?

1. Why Bother? Why cards, why not post-it notes instead?

Why: Cards have a structured format that allows for flexibility and complexity, serving as probes, affordances, prompts and containers for knowledge. Unlike post-it notes, which can quickly become cluttered and disconnected, cards can be digitally organized, annotated, and augmented with AI for further insight.

How: Use cards to turn information into knowledge, and build lasting knowledge structures that can be re-arranged, connected, and built upon. Cards are not just for brainstorming; they facilitate deeper engagement, strategic thinking, and ongoing co-creation.

2. Why Bother? Why cards, why not just an “ordinary” Tool for Thought?

Why: Cards for Insight adds an interactive, narrative-based layer to tools for thought, moving beyond static notetaking or isolated thinking. Cards facilitate collaborative exploration, pattern discovery, and the development of a shared understanding.

How: Play with cards to not only capture thoughts but to build dynamic, evolving thought journeys. AI-assisted annotations amplify your thinking, while the card-play format creates a framework for emergent knowledge.

3. Why Bother? Why cards, why not just ordinary platform designs like posts, comments, like buttons?

Why: Traditional platforms prioritize reactions and surface-level interaction. Cards for Insight, on the other hand, prioritizes deep engagement, layered discovery, and collective meaning-making.
The card format helps slow down and organize thought in ways posts and comments don’t, encouraging more reflective and purposeful interactions.

How: With cards, you engage in guided conversation, fostering richer discussions and uncovering deeper insights than typical social media interactions.

4. Why Bother? Why bespoke card-play patterns of play, why not any which heuristics?

Why: Patterns of play are carefully designed sequences of actions that foster generative thinking. They are not random heuristics but are meant
to guide you toward deep insights, foster connections between ideas,
and help navigate complex issues.

How: Follow card-play patterns to explore complex topics with intention. AI-assisted prompts and annotations enrich these patterns by introducing connections you might not otherwise see, making the process more meaningful.

5. Why Bother? Why AI-assisted annotations, why not just human annotations?

Why: Human annotations are valuable, but they can be time-consuming and limited by individual perspective. AI-assisted annotations speed up
the process, introduce new connections, and help you see relationships between ideas that may not be immediately obvious.

How: Use AI to enhance, not replace, your thinking. The AI assists by suggesting links, connections, and new avenues for inquiry, helping you reach deeper insights faster and more comprehensively.

6. Why Bother? Why online cards, why not just physical decks?

Why: Physical decks are wonderful for in-person collaboration, but online cards offer flexibility, accessibility, and augmentation through AI. Digital cards can be saved, searched, annotated, and used collaboratively in ways that physical cards cannot.

How: Take advantage of the digital format to collaborate with others remotely, use AI to augment your card-play, and save and revisit
your card sessions for continuous learning and development.

7. Why Bother? Why card-play conversations, why not just ordinary chat or comment threads?

Why: Ordinary chats and comment threads tend to be linear, short-lived, and often lack depth. Card- play conversations are structured, evolving dialogues that allow for the emergence of complex ideas and shared understanding over time.

How: Engage in card-play conversations to explore ideas thoroughly, use AI assistance to maintain context, and collaborate meaningfully. The cards guide the conversation, ensuring it doesn’t devolve into shallow exchanges but builds toward insight and action.

8. Why Bother? Why complex dilemmas and generative center questions, why not simpler discussions?

Why: The world is full of complex challenges that require deep thinking and creative solutions. Simple discussions often lead to surface-level engagement, but by tackling generative center questions, we unlock
new possibilities and explore multiple layers of understanding.

How: Use cards to explore complex dilemmas through structured inquiry, fostering both individual and collective breakthroughs.

9. Why Bother? Why knowledge artifacts and card-casts, why not just leave ideas as they are?

Why: Knowledge artifacts and card-casts turn ideas into tangible, shareable outcomes. Instead of leaving thoughts in fragments, these artifacts help you document your thinking process and share insights with others in a meaningful way.

How: Use the cards to co-create artifacts that can be referenced, built upon, and shared as part of a collective knowledge-building process.

10. Why Bother? Why generative play, why not just work through tasks?

Why: Generative play encourages creativity, divergent thinking, and serendipitous discovery — essential elements for innovation and problem-solving. Task-driven work is important, but it’s through play that we often unlock new, unexpected insights.

How: Engage with the cards in a spirit of playfulness to uncover new ways of thinking. AI annotations help expand the creative process by adding layers of context and connections.

— Ok, ok, I’ll give it a try!
— Good to hear! Pick a few cards, and use the below heuristics.

Card: Story
Story is 8bn Humans finding themselves
in between narratives, drowning in content,
hungry for meaning, reaching out to others,
weaving a requisite variety of paths between
situational awareness and preferable outcomes.”

Begin her ongoing reflection like this:

“On a whim, I started to browse the Cards for Insight website, and noticed there was something called Why Bother, I glanced through it and right beneath all that, another card … “

ChatGPT:
On a whim, I started to browse the Cards for Insight website and
noticed something called Why Bother. At first, I chuckled at the
title — Why bother, indeed? — but curiosity got the better of me.
I skimmed through the explanations, each one laying out reasons
for these cards in a way that was oddly… disarming. They weren’t
trying to sell me something. They weren’t asking for clicks or likes
or engagement. Instead, they felt like an invitation. Each point seemed
to push back, gently but firmly, against the noise I’d grown used to.

And then, just beneath all that, there was another card: Story.

Story is 8bn humans finding themselves in between narratives, drowning in content, hungry for meaning, reaching out to others, weaving a requisite variety of paths between situational awareness and preferable outcomes.

I read it once. Then again. And then I just sat there, staring at my screen, the words sinking in like pebbles into still water. It felt like the card was speaking directly to me — or maybe through me, pulling something from inside that I hadn’t been able to articulate.

In between narratives. There it was again, that phrase. I felt a strange knot tighten in my chest. It wasn’t painful, exactly, but it wasn’t comfortable either. It was the kind of knot that forms when you realize someone has said out loud what you’ve been too scared to even think.

That’s where I am, isn’t it? Between narratives. Between the story I used to believe — the one that said the world made sense, that hard work and decency would carry me through — and the story I’m supposed to believe now: the one that says it’s all chaos, algorithms, and cynicism, that meaning is something we’ve lost and can’t get back.

And yet, this card wasn’t despairing. There was something else in its tone — something quiet, unassuming, but powerful. An invitation, perhaps?
A challenge? It didn’t seem to care that I felt small and overwhelmed.
It just laid out the situation with an almost serene clarity: we’re drowning, yes. Hungry for meaning, yes. But also reaching out. Weaving. Seeking.

I felt torn in that moment. Part of me wanted to dismiss it, to roll my eyes and return to the comfort of my familiar disempowerment. That part of me was loud, almost shouting: It’s just another fancy idea! Nothing changes! Stories won’t save you!

But there was another part — a quieter, softer voice. It was the same part that had stopped me from scrolling earlier, that had clicked on the Stepping Stones card. This voice didn’t shout. It simply whispered: What if?

What if there’s truth here? What if story is the way through? What if this drowning feeling isn’t permanent, but part of something bigger — something I can’t see yet?

I thought about the word weaving. It’s such a gentle word, isn’t it? It doesn’t demand action or force. It suggests connection, patience, craft. It made me wonder: what if I could weave something new out of all this chaos? Not alone — because the card didn’t suggest solitude — but with others, with tools, with play.

The knot in my chest loosened, just a little. For the first time in a long while, I didn’t feel like I was on the outside looking in. I felt… included. Like I wasn’t the only one feeling this way. Like the world hadn’t
written me off just yet.

I stared at the card for a while longer, letting the words settle.
Then I whispered to myself, almost without meaning to:
What story do I want to weave?

It felt like the start of something. I didn’t know what yet,
but for once, not knowing felt okay.

John Kellden:
In the same story mode, but now interspersed with both card-play and card-play dialogue — a change of scene: Aria (the main voice in the above thread) is reaching out to two of her friends.

“Aria, an educator overwhelmed by competing narratives, struggles with teaching critical thinking in an era of mistrust and misinformation.

Jules, a community organizer, feels stuck trying to unite groups polarized by conflicting values and priorities.

Kai, a designer working in sustainability, finds it difficult to balance innovation with the uncertainty of global systems in flux.

Though all three are different, with different personalities and different voices, they all share a deep concern for the current overwhelm, which they feel is near endemic among almost all their friends.

They’re using Google Hangouts for small group conversations.”

As they talk and browse the Cards for Insight website, Jules finds this:

“In a networked world, the complexities we face surpass the capacity of individual cognition, demanding a collective intelligence approach. Navigating such challenges requires not only diverse perspectives but also structured processes for discovery, sensemaking, and action.

Flow, particularly knowledge flow, emerges at the edge of our comfort zones — where curiosity meets challenge, and structure supports creativity.

Flow is not a passive state but an active interplay of elements. Cards for Insight offers a working definition of flow:

Flow = Structure × Process

Structure: The framework, boundaries, and tools — such as the cards and their seven dimensions — that provide a scaffolding for exploration.

Process: The dynamic interactions, including patterns of play, collaborative conversations, and iterative sensemaking, that animate the structure.

The “×” represents the vital synergy between these elements, where the right patterning and patterns of play generate insight and, ultimately, shared understanding. This interplay allows individuals and groups to navigate complexity with agility and clarity, unlocking pathways toward meaningful action. “

Further into their conversation, they pick three cards, one card each, and they also ask the AI for assistance, providing patterns of play before, after and between the cards:

… gather around a complex dilemma (information overwhelm),
formulated as a generative center question …

Card: Navigating Complexity
What patterns and structures can I rely on
to make sense of uncertainty? How can I
collaborate to broaden my perspective?

… pick cards and journal your immediate thoughts,
and share your insights with the others …

Card: Navigating the New
How can I approach unfamiliar challenges
with creativity and confidence? What small
steps can lead me to new possibilities?

… imagine thought as a journey through an intricate landscape …

The AI is also prompted to add to the “Imagine Thought” pattern of play:

Each card is a step, a tool for navigating this terrain, uncovering hidden paths, and connecting seemingly distant ideas. With each move, the landscape becomes clearer, and what was once a maze of confusion turns into a map of understanding. As you progress, you’re not alone — others join you, their perspectives enriching the journey, their insights combining with yours to form a powerful collective force.

Card: Understanding
What if understanding is our ability to hold space
for the possibility of knowledge, as it emerges,
unfolds, directs and discloses its relevance
to unexplored aspects of things known?

… cultivate shared understanding as generative closure …

Begin like this:
“Jules, Kai, hi! Glad you could make it! I think I’ve found something that we should try … “

ChatGPT:
“Jules, Kai, hi! Glad you could make it!” Aria leaned closer to her webcam, her face half-lit by the glow of her laptop screen. She could see Jules sipping from a coffee mug, looking tired but curious, and Kai leaning back in their chair, earbuds in, their workspace cluttered with sketches and sticky notes. “I think I’ve found something we should try.”

Kai raised an eyebrow. “What’s this about? Another teaching tool? Because no offense, Aria, I’ve got about twelve of those bookmarked already, and most of them are collecting digital dust.”

“Not a teaching tool, exactly,” Aria said, her tone deliberate but slightly playful. “It’s more… a way of thinking. Of talking, maybe? Look, I’ve
been feeling stuck — like everything’s too big, too fast. I think you both probably know what I mean. And then I found this site: Cards for Insight.
It’s different. It’s… I don’t know, just trust me.”

“Cards?” Jules said, squinting at her screen. “What, like playing cards? Tarot? Or are we talking flashcards for the digital age?”

“Neither,” Aria said. She shared her screen. “It’s more like prompts, questions, tools to make sense of… well, this.” She gestured vaguely, encompassing everything. “The noise, the overwhelm. I think we could
use it to help with the stuff we’re all struggling with in our own ways.”

Kai leaned forward. “Alright. Show us.”

The First Card: Navigating Complexity

Jules was the first to pick a card. “Here’s one,” she said, reading it aloud: “Navigating Complexity. What patterns and structures can I rely on to make sense of uncertainty? How can I collaborate to broaden my perspective?”

She paused, tapping her mug thoughtfully. “That hits hard. I mean, everything I do as a community organizer is basically trying to make sense of uncertainty while juggling a hundred different opinions. Collaboration’s baked into it, but… let’s be honest, a lot of the time it feels like we’re just spinning our wheels.”

Kai nodded. “It’s the same for me. Sustainability’s all about navigating complexity, right? But sometimes I feel like the systems we’re trying to design for are changing faster than we can even figure out what they need. It’s exhausting.”

“And for me,” Aria chimed in, “it’s teaching kids critical thinking when the world they’re stepping into feels like quicksand. I want them to question things, but also to trust something, you know? To believe in their ability to make sense of it all. But how do I model that when I’m struggling myself?”

The card lingered on the screen, its questions hanging in the air. “So… what do we do with this?” Jules asked.

The Second Card: Navigating the New

“Let’s pick another,” Kai said, taking control of the screen. They flipped to a new card: Navigating the New. How can I approach unfamiliar challenges with creativity and confidence? What small steps can lead me to new possibilities?

Kai read it aloud and let out a small laugh. “Yeah, small steps. That feels… ambitious right now. But I like the idea of thinking creatively about unfamiliar challenges instead of just reacting to them.”

“Small steps are all I have these days,” Jules said with a wry smile. “It’s how I survive the overwhelm — breaking things down into manageable pieces. But I’ll admit, I don’t always bring creativity to the table. Half the time, I’m just firefighting.”

Aria tilted her head. “I think that’s part of the challenge, though — finding ways to reframe the fire so it doesn’t just consume us. What if we saw it as fuel instead? Like, what can the fire burn away that’s no longer serving us?”

Kai grinned. “That’s a poetic spin, Aria. I like it. But how do we actually do that?”

The Third Card: Understanding

Aria clicked on the next card: Understanding. What if understanding is our ability to hold space for the possibility of knowledge, as it emerges, unfolds, directs, and discloses its relevance to unexplored aspects of things known?

The group went quiet for a moment.

“Wow,” Jules said softly. “That’s… a lot to take in. But it resonates. Holding space for the possibility of knowledge? That’s… generous. It’s not about knowing everything all at once, but letting things unfold.”

“Exactly,” Aria said. “I think it’s permission to not have it all figured out. To trust that understanding will come if we hold the space for it, even in the chaos.”

Kai nodded, their voice thoughtful. “And that ties back to the first two cards. Navigating complexity and the new… isn’t that all about holding space, too? Space for collaboration, for creativity, for trust that we can find our way through?”

The Pattern of Play: Imagine Thought as a Journey
They prompted the AI for assistance.

“Okay,” Aria said, reading the AI’s suggestion aloud. “Imagine thought as a journey through an intricate landscape. Each card is a step, a tool for navigating this terrain, uncovering hidden paths, and connecting seemingly distant ideas. With each move, the landscape becomes clearer, and what was once a maze of confusion turns into a map of understanding.”

Jules grinned. “A map. I could use one of those right about now.”

“Me too,” Kai said. “But I like the idea of creating it as we go. It’s not about having the answers upfront — it’s about discovery, piece by piece.”

“Exactly,” Aria said. “I think that’s what’s so compelling about these cards. They’re not telling us what to think. They’re just inviting us to think differently, together.”

The Generative Closure: A Shared Understanding

As the session wound down, Jules spoke up. “You know what? I wasn’t sure about this at first, but… I feel lighter. Like we’re not just drowning in the overwhelm anymore. We’re starting to weave something — maybe not
a full story yet, but threads.”

Kai nodded. “Yeah, it’s… refreshing. Structured, but open. And I can already see how this could help with some of the challenges I’m working on.”

Aria smiled. “It’s a start, isn’t it? Just a small step. But maybe that’s enough for now.” They each picked up their threads, ready to see where the next steps might lead.

Cards for Insight: Thinking differently, together

Cards for Insight: Why Bother?