From Ashrams to Apple: Finding Jobs’ Secret to Visionary Thinking

Steve Jobs had a knack for coloring outside the lines, to envision what others deemed impossible. Some people are born with gifts that leave most of us in awe.

What if Jobs’ ability to see what could be—not simply what is—is something we could all access?

At the tender age of 19, Jobs set off to India to satisfy a yearning to answer existential questions. He later credited his experiences with Eastern spirituality for teaching him to trust his intuition above conventional logic or market research. This intuitive approach, he believed, allowed him to anticipate consumer desires before they knew themselves.

Could intuition be the competitive advantage business owners and executives are missing?

Twice Jobs’ age, with less defined intentions, I found myself walking in his footsteps in India.

When a dear friend invited me to join his spiritual pilgrimage, I jumped at the opportunity. Little did I know, this trip would break open the door of my soul, and set me on a new life trajectory. Each year since, I’ve found myself returning to India. 

Arriving in Delhi was a shock to my system. Surrounded by chaos, vivid colors, new smells, constant noise—it was a sensory explosion, both overwhelming and exhilarating.

After a brief stay in Delhi, we were off to the foothills of the Himalayas. 

Navigating a bus through sharp Himalayan switchbacks has the power to make even non-believers pray for protection. The narrow roads clung precariously to steep cliffs without guardrails. Each oncoming vehicle or wandering cow required delicate coordination to pass. We popped motion sickness pills like candy while sharing life stories and what had led us to this moment. Twelve souls on a journey to find something that none of us could quite articulate. Each would leave the trip transformed in their own way.

Our group was wonderfully diverse, common interests and curiosities connected us—seekers on similar paths. A high-energy Venezuelan living in Vegas – both showgirl and biochemist; an affluent yoga instructor with standards as elevated as her lifestyle; a South African private equity dropout bored with success; a bakery owner; an ex-professional wrestler; and few suit and tie types. A motley crew indeed.

Moments of fear would sweep in, scared of the danger of the journey. In those moments I looked far in the distance. I would become lost in the beauty of the rolling hills, the tranquility, the awe feeling of vast space. I saw the parallels to my daily life. How choosing to have faith and see the beauty would provide relief to the fears of the unlikely daily perils.  

Like Jobs, we were traveling to Kainchi Dham, a site primarily known for the ashram of Neem Karoli Baba (also called Maharaj-ji), a Hindu guru known for his teachings on love, devotion, and service. His primary lesson was “Love Everyone, Serve Everyone, Remember God.” 

I was more curious than devoted. My relationship with a higher power has been complex. I grew up in a religious system that felt like an ill-fitting shoe. In my youth, I claimed atheism—some of my darkest, most depressing years. Whether correlation or causation, I’ve often reflected on this connection. By my 30s, I was open to spirituality, accepting the existence of something greater than myself—forces my logical mind couldn’t fully comprehend. My relationship with this power continues to evolve.

When we arrived, my brain was still churning—three days sleep-deprived and preoccupied with work drama. I felt tension throughout my body. As VP of Operations and Growth at a fintech company, I was fortunate to have found a workplace with an appreciative and kind boss, and a wealthy owner motivated to give back. Recently acquired, I sensed the company’s original purity fading. During this trip, clarity emerged—I needed to close this chapter and start fresh. It would take me a year to commit fully to meaningful change. 

We were settling into our cabins when summoned for a “puja” ceremony—something unfamiliar to me. Sitting down, I observed the objects around me like puzzle pieces. Trinkets, ghee, rice, flowers, timber. What would the end result be? How did they fit together?

Our guide ignited the fire as we quietly observed. Then he began chanting as the flames grew. We arranged flowers around the fire and were invited to toss small amounts of rice into the flames. I learned that a puja ceremony is a sacred ritual performed as an offering to the divine.

Several minutes into the ceremony, staring at the flames, I caught myself in an uncommon state of being. My mind, typically flooded with thoughts and information, experienced peace. I felt embraced by something I couldn’t name. It felt as though heavy bricks had been lifted from my shoulders; stress had melted away.

It felt auspicious. What had caused the welcomed feeling and how was it possible? 

After spending a few nights near Maharaj-ji’s main ashram, we headed to another site where he had also lived. While I knew little about the guru himself, I was familiar with the story of one of his most well-known devotees: Ram Dass. Their connection is the kind of tale that feels made for film. Ram Dass, formerly Richard Alpert, was a Harvard-trained psychologist in the 1960s and a central figure in both the psychedelic and spiritual movements of the era. His deep curiosity about consciousness eventually led him to India, hoping to better understand the altered states psychedelics had introduced him to. It was there, by what seemed like chance, that he met his guru—at the very location we were about to visit. 

The relationship between the hippie and the Indian saint was both comic and profound, rooted in love and transformation. Through that bond, Ram Dass evolved from a drug-fueled explorer of mind to a humble translator of Eastern wisdom for the West. He discovered that the “permanent high” he’d been chasing was actually found in love, devotion, and practice.

The ashram was humble and small. Our guide led us inside and pointed to a bed in a room with a cement floor and one simple wool blanket. This was where Neem Karoli Baba slept. Peering into the room, I wondered about his life. What would it have been like to converse with the man whom millions followed then and remain devoted to after his passing? Upon entering the room, emotion washed over me. Tears streamed down my face—to this day, I struggle to explain why or how. What force was at work? It evoked the same feeling as the puja—peace and protection. It’s a feeling my logical mind grapples with, but I now embrace.

Returning to India is like an itch I need to scratch. Since my initial visit, my life has completely changed. I left my high-powered job to settle into a softer life. I’ve trained in breathwork and meditation, explored philosophy, and begun to write. I’ve tapped into a truer version of who I am. Something shifted in me during that trip, as it did for all of us. Each of us was at a crossroads, a pivotal moment in life.

Jobs’ spiritual foundation helped him develop an intuitive sense of what was good, beautiful, and worthy. He considered this sensibility something his more technically-minded competitors lacked.

Technology and AI are moving faster than ever. Knowledge is at our fingertips—everyone has access to whatever information they need.

Information has become a commodity.

Jobs didn’t possess a superpower; he had the wisdom to understand he could access forces that would simplify life—to exist in flow, to connect with source, to tap into a sixth sense, intuition. This doesn’t exist between book covers or with academic degrees. It resides in connecting to a power inexplicable to many of us hardwired for logical thinking.

The speed at which we are living requires a hard reset. The introduction of a new way of thinking.

The complexity of our environment is pushing many to a breaking point, where information overload has eroded our ability to think clearly, to feel fully, to be present. We have a choice: to break under the pressure or to evolve—seek a new way of being that meets the demands of a transformed world. One where logic alone is no longer enough.

Jobs understood this. He knew that in a world overflowing with data, our edge lies not in what we know, but in what we sense. His greatest innovations came not from analysis, but from alignment—something beyond words. Perhaps that’s the invitation now: to stop optimizing for productivity and start listening for truth. Because the future won’t be built by those who know the most—it will be shaped by those brave enough to feel, sense, and imagine.

Written By: Chrissy Schmidt