A few weeks ago I got back from trekking the TMB. This was by far the biggest mountain adventure of my life, and it was incredible, but that’s a story for another time. Out there, daily life meant living in the relative wild and needing to conserve my phone’s battery however I could. Most of the time, it stayed in airplane mode.
That led to an odd discovery. Not earth-shattering, just something I kind of knew, but it hit me harder than before. Since I was a pre-teen, I’ve always had some sort of phone nearby. Initially, it was the coolness, the tinkering, having a tiny computer at my fingertips. Driven by curiosity, I learned to code, explored hacking, tried tweaking whatever I could. Social media came along, and I devoured it. Back when Messenger didn’t even have an app on my Symbian-powered, camera-less Nokia, I’d refresh the clunky website every few minutes, hoping a friend would reply. Sometimes I’d swear my brain knew something new was there. And if I was right, those notifications gave me a rush of joy every single time.
Turns out, what felt like a sixth sense was actually the beginning of phantom vibrations. I’d become so tied to my phone that whenever I left it alone for too long, my mind would trick me, convincing me I was missing out. Fast forward a few years and the thrill of a new message or notification mostly faded away. Or so I thought.
Even with my phone stuck in airplane mode, its use reduced to photos and maps, muscle memory took over. I’d find myself unlocking it and opening social apps without even thinking. My stats dropped significantly during those beautiful trekking days, but I still tapped into Instagram and Reddit like on autopilot. The sneaky part is, some of these apps work just enough offline to keep the habit alive. Pre-downloaded YouTube Shorts and cached Instagram Reels pulled me in for a few minutes until I’d realize, again, that something was off.
So, I decided to try something different. Inspired by a few creators I like, I wanted to consume less and create more. That realization made it clear I’m not only fighting my own habits, but also tech giants who want me glued to whatever their algorithms serve up next. To stay sane and creative, I made a promise to myself: I’d be intentional with how I use tech. I’m not quitting social media or ditching my phone. For one, my work depends on knowing trends and coming up with fresh ideas. Besides, going cold turkey just isn’t realistic for me.
The first step was just being more mindful about my everyday habits. I use Obsidian for notes, plus a stack of random notebooks for different ideas and projects. Adding a daily note was easy, but a consistent morning note was a fail. I gave up on forcing it, so now I just write quick evening summaries. A few sentences about the day, what I did, how I felt. It’s quick and easy, and nearly every evening I actually do it.
Second step happened by accident. On Instagram, I kept marking posts as not interesting until a message popped up asking if I wanted to start my feed over. The result felt freeing. Instead of mindless memes, AI nonsense, or endless Subway Surfer clips, my feed filled up with beautiful, high-effort posts. I became much choosier about what I watched, liked, or shared. If things start slipping, I refresh or close the app. I try to keep Instagram sessions short, and now I almost worry that bingeing too many reels will ruin my feed all over again.
Finally, as the third step I decided to block the noise. I’ve come to hate being bombarded with ads and notifications. Not just social media. Even recipe websites want your attention so they can feed you more content and, of course, more ads. I used to get dozens of unnecessary notifications a day. Swiping them away was annoying and would send me right back into doomscrolling. Finally, I went through my apps and turned off almost everything, leaving only what I actually want. Sure, I’ve missed a party or two that only got organized on Facebook. But I’m calmer now, and my phone works for me, not the other way around.
I know there’s still more to improve, and I’m already experimenting with new ideas. For now, these three steps have already saved me a lot of unexplainable anxiety and honestly boosted my productivity. This text is living proof.
In my next pieces, I’ll dig deeper into digital minimalism and intentional tech. I’ll write about notebooks, organization, automation, and how to quiet the urge to just consume. Make sure to subscribe if you want to keep up with my thoughts. Or don’t. Honestly, you probably don’t want another notification right now anyway.