My Phone Was Taking Up All My Downtime. I Decided to Put an End to It

I have a reasonably healthy relationship with my phone. I don’t use Instagram or TikTok, so these two perfect time-sucking apps are already out of the equation. I do use text-based social media platforms and YouTube, but I engage with them in a fairly reasonable manner, at least considering the current state of things.

I’ve long since minimized my notifications to almost the bare minimum necessary. However, a few weeks ago, I decided to take another step. I wanted to stop constantly checking my phone. This meant no more instinctively reaching into my pocket at the first opportunity, like someone who smokes a cigarette as soon as they find an excuse. I wanted to improve my concentration and reduce that impulsive urge.

The revelation came one afternoon while I was waiting for the elevator. Mechanically, I took my phone out and unlocked it. I didn’t have any pending notifications–I had checked it three minutes earlier. Why had I taken it out again? It was an automatic gesture similar to how I push my glasses up or how I fidget with my keys. However, this was one I wanted to stop.

During the elevator ride, I decided to try to be fully aware each time I used my phone without a real purpose. I began to collect scenarios: I used it when I was waiting for the elevator, standing in line at the supermarket, and while the frying pan was heating up. It wasn’t because of addiction or anxiety. It was simply inertia–an unconscious habit of filling every available time slot.

The issue wasn’t the total time I spent on my phone. While I could certainly improve that, it wasn’t my main concern. The problem was my tendency to interrupt any moment of quiet or wait with a quick check of social media, email, and my go-to websites. If the context was right, I always ended up on YouTube.

For years, I had turned every micro-pause into an opportunity for scrolling.

The solution turned out to be simple. I needed to allow those downtimes to be truly unoccupied, recognizing that nothing significant needed to happen during those moments. I had to use my phone only for specific purposes. There’s value in leaving those empty spaces open for thought. You don’t need a digital distraction when you’re standing in line at the supermarket. I aimed to see more of the world and less of the screen.

Initially, it felt strange. I was reminded of the heroic deed of The Verge editor Paul Miller, who spent a year (between 2012 and 2013) without the Internet, neither on his phone nor on his computer. To do something like that today would be even more radical and could feel like a form of voluntary social marginalization. Giving up the need to take my phone out for no reason at all felt like a much simpler step. If anything, it was an exercise in basic digital hygiene, but it still felt surprisingly impactful.

Naturally, there were times when I reached for my pocket out of pure habit. Gradually, that instinct began to fade. I’ve come to realize that productive boredom has its own value. Allowing the mind to wander without the constant barrage of stimuli can be refreshing.

My relationship with my phone is much healthier now. I consult it only when I need something rather than as a reflex. Downtimes have regained their original purpose. They’re opportunities for me to think, observe, or simply do nothing.

This isn’t about demonizing the technology that ultimately benefits me or yearning for a pre-smartphone era that few would actually choose to return to. It’s much simpler. It’s about regaining conscious control over when and why I take my phone out of my pocket.

Image | Viralyft

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