Last night I was working on this book about the loonie loop using AI and—ironically—I entered a loonie loop. I went to bed at 12:15 a.m.
I was so spaced out that I forgot to put my phone in the box.
I found it the next morning on the kitchen counter. I picked it up, hid it in a drawer and told myself that was basically the same as putting it in the box.
I knew where it was all day.
I had a lovely day: hiking, meditating, cleaning, reading. I felt at peace. I felt like myself.
Around 6:15 p.m., after the sun had gone down, I took the phone from the drawer. Just messages. No work. No email. It took about three minutes.
But as I sat there with the phone in my hand, looking at the little icons—greyscale, black background—it felt so…
Pointless.
Fundamentally dissatisfying.
I opened and closed a few apps. Facebook. WhatsApp. Apple Messages. Hoping for something. But nothing.
After sixteen hours offline, my own truth felt obvious. There was nothing for me to see there.
Once the trance kicks in, the game begins. The obsession takes over and minutes or hours vanish. But sitting there, looking at those grey icons, I could see that the attraction was not the experience itself.
For me, the pleasure had been in the anticipation. Relieving the fear of missing out. Reaching the feeling of done.
Without that anticipation, the phone was fundamentally dissatisfying.
I could probably handle my genuinely important messages in an hour a week.
If I wasn't in a trance.