Jordan Koschei jordan koschei

Living Well

Attention is the Resource We Treat Most Casually

All of humanity's problems stem from man's inability to sit quietly in a room alone.

Blaise Pascal, likely before compulsively checking Twitter

For knowledge workers — designers, programmers, writers, analysts, and desk jockeys of all kinds — our minds are our greatest asset. We get paid for our ability to turn our brains towards a problem, ruminate on an answer, and produce a solution. It’s how we create value.

Our attention is our most valuable resource, yet it’s the one we treat most casually.

I can’t speak for anyone else, but tell me if this sounds familiar:

I think long and hard before spending money. I hate to waste food or drink. I cringe at the thought of leaving a light on unused. And yet I’ll sink an hour into browsing TechCrunch or Hacker News and barely realize it.

Media Diets & Mental Junk Food

When it comes to our bodies, we understand intuitively that diet is important. “You are what you eat,” after all. Fruits and veggies in, your body gets stronger. Twizzlers and Twinkies, not so much.

We’re less attuned to the way our media diet affects our minds. We may know on some level that an hour of browsing Reddit isn’t the same as an hour spent reading a good book, but that doesn’t stop us from making the easier choice. The short bursts of Twitter are more enticing than the slow burn of literature; the driving beat and nursery-rhyme melodies of Katy Perry are more fun than the impenetrable riches of anything classical. Pull-to-refresh provides a stronger dopamine hit than ponder-and-fathom.

It’s irrational, isn’t it? If our livelihood is based on our ability to focus our attention, then we should flee from anything that weakens our attention span and flock towards anything that strengthens it. As the “knowledge economy” grows, we should see a whole army of voracious readers and dedicated meditators. Instead, we have a world of quick cuts and hot takes. It takes an addiction to make us act so irrationally against our own self-interest.

Junk food short-circuits our genetic predisposition towards sugar and fat to make us crave it more than any fruits or vegetables. Similarly, the mental foods that are bad for us short-circuit our cravings for information. We may know that John McPhee is better for us than The Bachelor, but that doesn’t mean we won’t pick The Bachelor every time.

(Maybe it isn’t The Bachelor for you; maybe it’s something else. Or maybe you have better self-control than I do and this isn’t a problem for you at all. Anyway, isn’t Demi the worst this season?)

Saving Our Attention

The mind is a clearinghouse for information. Information goes in, is processed by a set of particular filters and biases and mental models, and comes out as knowledge.

That’s what we should be preserving at all costs — our minds’ ability to focus well.

It seems like everyone in tech circles is talking about this. Daily meditation, tech sabbaths, internet detox retreats, focus-boosting apps… they’re everywhere. They feel a little like putting a Band-Aid on a broken bone. But, in the absence of a better solution (or the willpower to ditch Twitter and Reddit), they’ll have to do.

I’m admittedly terrible at following my own advice, but here are some resources I’ve found that have helped boost my attention, or at least mitigate my distractedness:

  • 📙 Make Time: How to Focus on What Matters Every Day. A book by the guys who wrote Sprint about techniques they’ve found to focus better and remember more of their days.
  • 📘 The Shallows: What the Internet is Doing to Our Brains. It’s a few years old, but this book by Nicholas Carr explores how our brains rewire around the media we spend time with. The more time we spend with quick, shallow information (like Twitter and Reddit), the less capable we are of consuming deep information (like books). Scary.
  • 📙 Amusing Ourselves to Death. This classic by Neil Postman was written before the era of the internet, but its discussion of the effects of television on our brains feels as timely as ever.
  • Focus. A macOS app that disables distracting websites and apps for as long as you specify, with no take-backs.
  • 🔗 Liberate for iOS. Same idea as Focus, but for iOS. It blocks websites only (no apps), and unfortunately can be disabled, but still helpful.

Postscript

I like the idea of meditation, in the sense of sitting quietly and thinking deeply for a stretch of time. If we hold that deliberate practice is the single most effective way to get great at anything, than it makes sense that the best way to increase your focus and attention is to practice being focused and attentive.

I don’t like the pseudo-spirituality of apps like Headspace and Calm (yes, even the apps that claim not to have a spiritual bent seem to have a spiritual bent, whether they themselves realize it or not). I like the idea of having a meditation timer with soothing sounds and a bell to tell me when my time is up, but I’d rather have an app dedicated to that purpose than use a timer buried in a more fully-featured meditation app.

Since I haven’t been able to find anything like that yet, I’m building my own. It’s called Interlude, it’s an unguided meditation timer, and it’s my first solo iOS app. I’ve had a chance to do some work in Swift while working on Dwell, and this seems like a good way to flex my engineering muscles and create something of my own.

Interested in updates? You can sign up for the mailing list here.

Leaving Twitter

I went on vacation a couple of weeks ago. Before leaving, I removed Tweetbot and Instagram from my phone — anything with a feed, really, including Slack and email etc.

As expected, my mind felt clearer almost immediately. Without Twitter close at hand, I lost the constant urge to see what’s going on elsewhere. Without Instagram ready to go, I stopped unconsciously evaluating every moment for how well it would look on my Story.

Coming back, I’ve decided to end my relationship with Twitter for good. It’s been almost ten years — I started in college, quit after a little while, and then rejoined again. (All part of my usual love/hate relationship with all things social.)

Things were good back then. I followed lots of web people, and learned about things like web standards. There was less vitriol and more collegiality, less corporatism and more direct access to real, interesting people.

In many ways, Twitter kicked off my career. It’s how I discovered the people and publications that taught me my craft. It’s where I first connected with The Industry, which would be my first real contribution to the design community. It’s how I’ve found and referred work, and met people who’ve been influential in my professional life.

Part of the joy of Twitter was its openness towards third-party clients. Don’t like twitter.com? Use a different app.

I’ve been a loyal Tweetbot user for a long time. Even as Twitter switched to an algorithmic feed, and added Moments, and added advertising, Tweetbot felt like the old Twitter.

It was well-designed, chronological, and sane. Even before Twitter had built-in muting, I had robust filters on Tweetbot that would filter out almost anything political, histrionic, or otherwise obnoxious. It made Twitter feel more like the early days.

Of course, this story ends predictably — Twitter changed its policy towards API access, severely crippling Tweetbot and its ilk. No more automatic timeline updates, no more activity tab. They clearly want everyone to come back to their subpar first-party apps.

So with that, I’m done with Twitter. If it’s a choice between using Twitter in its current form — poorly-run, blood-pressure-raising, user-hostile — or not using it at all… well, I choose not using it at all.

There are other reasons. I don’t like what Twitter does to my brain. During periods when I’ve been using it heavily, I can feel a shift towards thinking in Tweetable phrases.

I want to think in paragraphs, not sentences. I want my brain to pursue complex trains of thought, not quips designed to maximize engagement.

For the foreseeable future, I’m turning Twitter on autopilot. It’ll publish links to my blog via a Zapier integration, but I won’t be posting or checking otherwise. I’ve pinned a link to my email newsletter, which I’m resurrecting for anyone who wants to still get updates from me.

Yes, this will shrink my reach a little (not that it was exactly huge to begin with). But better to have a handful of followers who truly care than a multitude who won’t notice if I’m no longer in their feeds.

I’ve been thinking for a while that I’d rather have my thoughts archived on a corner of the web that I own, rather than homesteading on some company’s land.

My priorities will never line up with Twitter’s. If I have something to say, then, I’d rather say it here.

Read, Write, Communicate

I’ve always preferred to use different devices for production and consumption: I like to use the computer to create things and do work, and my tablet/phone to consume content (read articles, watch Netflix, listen to podcasts, etc).

I don’t like to muddle those two modes — it’s too easy to get sidetracked. If I use the same screen for production and consumption, it’s far too easy to start working and find myself on YouTube, or reading Hacker News.

Recently, I decided to divide up those tasks further. I don’t want to use my phone for consumption anymore, but just for communication. As I wrote previously, I want to embrace boredom, stay aware of my surroundings, and not feel compelled to spend every moment consuming information.

With that in mind, here’s the new division of labor between my devices:

  • Macbook Pro — Writing, design, code, etc. Anything industrial-grade related to work.
  • iPhone — Communication. I removed Tweetbot and Instapaper, and reinstalled Moment to remind me if I’ve spent more than 15 minutes using the phone for anything besides its intended purpose.
  • iPad Pro — Consumption. I’ve got Tweetbot, Reeder, and Instapaper installed (plus the usual video services). If I want to read, I’ll do it here.

It’s working well so far, but it’s only been a few days. Keeping the division sharp between those modes of thinking feels cleaner, somehow, than using every device for every purpose.

Increasing Optionality

One heuristic I find useful for making decisions is: will this increase or decrease my optionality?

In other words, will a given decision open up the range of future options available to me?

I have a friend who lived, for several years, off of 50% of his salary. This gave him several options that most of us don’t have:

  1. Each year he worked gave him enough money in the bank to spend a year not working, while maintaining the same quality of life. (Or, in his case, working entirely on personal projects without drawing a salary).
  2. He could take a much lower-paying job without having to adjust his lifestyle. If he found a job he was passionate about that paid only half his current salary, he could take it without downsizing his life.

Conversely, if someone is living off 100% of their salary, their options for other jobs are constrained — they either need to find work with equal or higher salary, or they need to downsize.

Debt is the prime example of a constraint on financial choices. If I take out a loan, it may increase my short-term optionality (I have more immediate funds to work with), but decrease my long-term optionality (a larger chunk of my income is now devoted to repaying debt)

Money is an easy example, but there are plenty of others:

  • If I have a pet, will it constrain my ability to travel?
  • If I take on volunteer commitments, will it constrain my ability to spend time working on a side project?
  • If I take a trip and plan out what I’m doing every hour, will it hamper my ability to make choices in-the-moment and do what seems interesting?

I suppose this is all related to opportunity cost — time and resources are finite, so we can’t do one thing without reducing our bandwidth to do other things. Optionality is about understanding your priorities.

It strikes me that life is largely built around choosing where we’re comfortable reducing our available options, in order to open up more options.

I choose to work a full-time job because, even though it reduces my available time by 40 hours a week, it increases my available resources to spend on the other 128 hours.

I choose to work on my side projects because I value them more than I value whatever diversions I could spend that time doing.

At any branch in the path, though, I still find it useful to ask myself: will this increase or decrease my range of available options?

Do One Thing

Most of us live in a constant state of Continuous Partial Attention. Rather than focusing on one thing at a time, our attention is constantly scattered among a variety of sources, each of which only has part of our focus.

We’re at work, but we’re also keeping tabs on a text chain.

We’re reading a book, but we’re also checking Twitter or Instagram every two paragraphs.

We’re in a conversation, but our eyes keep flicking up to the TV on in the background.

Maintaining a state of Continuous Partial Attention is rarely a choice, but our current media environment seems specially designed to keep us in that state. We keep our phones in our pockets like a totem, our hands and minds constantly reaching for them as soon as we feel the mildest itch of boredom.

We can no longer bear to be doing nothing. We can’t just stand in line, waiting, without checking some other source of information. We’ve sacrificed solitude — not even true solitude, but just being alone with our thoughts — at the altar of being Always On.

Checking our feeds makes us feel like we’re in control. Really, they’re just making us scattered and docile.

We need boredom. We need to give our minds the chance to do one thing at a time. Boredom is a prerequisite for creativity. Multitasking is a myth.

Ironically, it’s this same media environment that’s connected to the massive upswing in jobs that are considered “knowledge work.” And knowledge work requires more dedicated attention than other jobs. It’s hard to write, or code, or design without reaching a state of flow. And yet the things we’re writing, coding, or designing seem best suited to preventing others from reaching the same.

A professor of mine used to say:

You can’t use a hammer without getting a callous.

What’s the callous our current tools are giving us?

###All this is to say:###

I’m tired of never being fully present. This week, I’m issuing myself a challenge: only do one thing at a time.

If I’m eating, I want to be eating — not reading or watching Parks and Rec or doing something else at the same time.

If I’m working, I don’t want Twitter on in the background. Or Slack. Or email.

If I’m watching TV, I don’t want to be on my phone as well.

That’s my plan. Feel free to join me.

Small Sabbaths

The idea of Sabbath — a time set apart for rest and (in the observant believer’s case) worship — is essential to the Christian faith. And it’s not just Christians who believe in the value of restorative, rejuvenative rest — Sabbath is found everywhere, both in other religions and in the secular world (weekends, anybody?).

We humans are wired to need a day off. No matter how much our culture promotes go-go-go, we need some time set aside for rest and contemplation. It’s not just okay to preserve a day for yourself, without thinking of your day job/freelance work/side hustle – it’s necessary.

But I think we need more than just the one “official” Sabbath day per week. Each day needs its own smaller Sabbath — some time to ground ourselves, get lost in our own heads, and clear the board for whatever comes next.

I’ve been trying to be more disciplined about taking time to myself at the beginning of each day. I need true rest, away from high-attention outside inputs — no TV, no podcasts, no smartphone. Just time to be alone, contemplating. Giving my mind space to wander, to mull over old ideas and come up with new ones. To make connections I wouldn’t have made under the dull throbbing influence of the many activity feeds.

I always aim to work from a posture of rest — that is, not rushing and scrambling and feeling on the back-foot, but working diligently with the understanding that my work is not what defines me. But the only way I can hope to do that is by allowing myself time in the presence of things that are energizing, not enervating.

For me, that means some time each morning with no news media (enervating, and depressing). No podcasts (enervating, and a good way to avoid doing your own thinking). No Netflix (if you feel more tired after an hour of watching it, that counts as enervating). Yes to reading, and thinking, and praying. Yes to listening to music. Yes to making something for its own sake, rather than because it’ll get plaudits or likes or shares.

I’m coming to relish these small Sabbaths each day. I’m not yet consistent with them, and sometimes I forget or run out of time. But in a society that’s obsessed with productivity and efficiency and “life hacks” (what an awful phrase), it’s worth taking the time to just be a person.

Do you know what’s gross? There’s probably someone out there who’s going to read this, or a similar article, and think, “Cool! I can use this to be more energized and efficient at work.” But that’s defeating the purpose. Sabbath isn’t designed to be pragmatic. It’s designed to be Sabbath.

Why I Don't Talk About Politics on Twitter

I rarely talk about politics, philosophy, theology, or anything else that matters on Twitter.

Why? I have several reasons:

  1. I can’t stand it when I follow someone because I’m interested in their thoughts on design and CSS architecture, and am then subjected to their political views. I don’t want to be that person to anyone else.
  2. Nobody’s mind will be changed, so it would have no purpose except to make me feel better.
  3. I’m used to my views being heterodox to both the Left and the Right, so it would more likely be an exercise in self-flagellation.
  4. Twitter leaves no room for nuance, and I can’t think of a single opinion I have that doesn’t require some nuance. I’m not interested in spewing aphorisms. Those aphorisms are part of the reason our political climate is what it is.
  5. Twitter makes any political statement sound arrogant.
  6. Twitter makes any political statement sound like a rant.

Talking about politics on social media almost always leads to someone losing respect for someone else. Respect is the key to healthy discourse, and any medium that doesn’t foster an environment of respect is unsuitable for talking about serious things.

There are many venues which are conducive for discussing serious things, but Twitter isn’t one of them. (Nor is Medium, in my opinion, because of similar echo chamber effects. Has anyone’s mind ever been changed by a Medium post? Has any political Medium post that you disagree with not come across as arrogant?)

Our Task Management Apps Won't Save Us

I’ve always had a hard time finding a task management system that clicks for me. I’ve tried plenty of them — OmniFocus, Things, 2Do, Todoist, good old pen-and-paper. Each of them has pros and cons.

My needs aren’t wildly complex, and I’m not a productivity nerd the way some people are. What I look for in a task manager is simple:

  • Nested projects/tasks, so not everything lives on the same level.
  • The ability to create a checklist without a due date, for tracking things like groceries and my reading list.
  • An aesthetically-pleasing interface.

It’s the third one that’s tripped me up the most. A task manager plays such a prominent role in one’s life — I don’t want to dread opening it up.

Unfortunately, the task managers that have the features I need tend to be ugly, and the task managers that are beautiful tend to lack the features I need.

I was previously using 2Do, which had everything I needed functionally, but it was unattractive and lacking in the UX department. It was also developed by a single person (as far as I could tell), so what happens if the developer gets hit by a bus? Or stops developing new features? It made me antsy.

OmniFocus 2 was ugly as well, and my brief couple of hours with Todoist were a wildly frustrating experience — their recent redesign still looks like it was optimized for a narrower and lower-resolution screen than my MacBook Pro, and adding new projects felt like pulling teeth.

Then, last week, Things 3 was released. My first task manager was Things 2, whose lack of nesting wound up being a dealbreaker, but the trailer for Things 3 was so pretty I decided to try it anyway.

It doesn’t have all the features I need, but it’s so pleasant to use that I decided to try shoehorning my process into its constraints anyway. Then I decided I enjoyed it, so I retooled my process to match Things 3’s proficiencies.

My grocery list is now a single task with a nested checklist. I’ve flattened some of my nested projects, and ditched some things I wasn’t really working on. And, thanks to Headings, some of my lists have actually gotten more organized since losing nested projects.

My reading list in Things 3

My one big frustration is the fact that Things 3 doesn’t support repeating tasks inside of projects, so my weekly “Compile newsletter” task doesn’t fit inside the Random Access Newsletter project. But the developers’ very-responsive Twitter account assures me this is coming soon.

All this brings me to the larger point I’ve been thinking about lately: your task management system can’t save you.

There’s something magical about that New Management App smell. Inputting your information into a new system, deciding you’re going to get your life in order, deciding that this one will actually work, I’ll stick with it this time. Like somehow your enhanced productivity will make everything better. I always feel like Liz Lemon after her trip to the Container Store, saying “I’m going to become wonderful!”

But productivity is just a tool. Efficiency and organization are meaningless unless they serve meaningful goals, and even the goals that feel meaningful don’t guarantee true satisfaction.

It’s easy to get caught up in the endorphin rush of feeling like our lives are under control. But the bigger question remains: Under control for what?

And that’s a question we each have to wrestle with for ourselves.

Marginal Changes That Have Improved my Quality of Life

Here are some marginal changes that have had outsized effects on my quality of life. Maybe some of them will work for you.

  • Light candles. I keep a few different candles around, and look forward to lighting one each morning. It’s amazing the effect that a pleasant scent can have on my mood.
  • Steep some tea. There’s something calming about the process of making tea, and I like the rhythm it gives my day as I finish one cup and start to make another.
  • Learn to love cooking. It’s healthier and more cost-effective than going out or ordering takeout, and the act of cooking is food for the soul. The ritual provides an excellent rhythm for the day, and I always look forward to making dinner in the evening.
  • Drink more water. If I don’t drink enough during the day, I get thirsty overnight. If I wake up thirsty, I feel more sluggish and am less likely to get out of bed right away. If I don’t get out of bed right away, I feel rushed in the morning and off-kilter for the rest of the day. It’s a deadly cycle, and it can all be fixed by drinking more water.
  • Wash the dishes as they happen. I don’t drink enough water if I can’t fill up my Brita filter, and that’s dependent on me having enough room for it in the sink. Also, everything just looks neater (and feels calmer) when I wash the dishes as I use them, rather than batch them and turn dish-washing into a 45-minute marathon.
  • Remove feeds from my phone. I removed email, social media, news from my phone (with the exception of Slack, which I keep on a close notification-leash). Now I’m less distracted by notifications and less inclined to habitually check my phone for new information, and I feel calmer in general.
  • Avoid screens anywhere near bed. I’ve talked about this before. If my phone is near my bed, I’ll check it before I go to sleep, and staring into a blinding beam of pure information is not good for the circadian rhythm. I’ll also check it first thing in the morning, which will put me in a reactive mode for the whole day. Better to keep it plugged in across the room, where it’s reachable in an emergency by far enough away that I can only use it deliberately.
  • Choose hours to be offline. I go screens-off for a while before bed so I can read and settle down without distraction, and I avoid the internet before 8am so I can go through my morning routine wihtout the world intruding.
  • Sit quietly for a few minutes each morning. Just sit there, eyes closed, breathing deeply for a few minutes. This does wonders for increasing my calm, and gives me the sense that I control the events of the day, rather than letting the events of the day control me.

The biggest productivity hack is to care about what you're working on.

I posted this on Twitter the other day:

It’s true, isn’t it? All the to-do lists and schedule optimizations in the world can’t fix a lack of enthusiasm about what you’re working on. And a little bit of enthusiasm has a habit of cutting through all the busyness – you may not have time for the tasks you dread, but if there’s something you’re really looking forward to working on, it’s amazing how quickly you can find space in your schedule.

Whether it’s your day job, a side project, or just an activity you enjoy – I hope you have something that makes you want to leap out of bed in the morning and get to work. If not, don’t be afraid to find it or make it.

Whoops, I just realized that I lapsed into “rah-rah, do what your love” territory. It’s all well and good to say “find a job you love,” but that’s a luxury that not everyone has. There are plenty of people who are trapped by student debt or a tight job market, or who just aren’t sure what kind of work they’ll find satisfying.

As Austin Kleon says, keep your day job.

If you don’t have a job that you deeply care about, I strongly encourage you to find (or start) a side project that gets you out of bed in the morning. Here’s an off-the-cuff list of some possibilities that are free and available to anyone:

  • Start a blog. My favorite thing about the Internet Age is that anyone can publish their thoughts. (That’s probably my least favorite thing, too, but that’s another story.) You have thoughts. Why not start a blog through Wordpress or Medium?
  • Take up cooking. I have found more satisfaction in cooking — real, authentic, not-with-a-microwave cooking — than I would’ve thought possible. There are few things as magical as buying some ingredients, applying heat, and seeing them transform into something completely different. I recommend looking at New York Times Cooking for a well-curated list of recipes for a variety of skill levels.
  • Learn to code. Coding is easier than you think, and it comes with an awesome sense of empowerment – if you can code, you can take your ideas and make them real. Codecademy will teach you for free.
  • Make something. Seriously, anything. Could be digital, could be tangible. Just make something of your own, and share it with the world! Oh, and that little voice in your head saying it won’t be good enough or nobody will be interested? That’s self-doubt. Everyone has it. Just ignore it – it’s not real.

In a world that revels in cynicism, caring is a superpower. Find that thing you care about and embrace it. If you’re not sure what it is, don’t be paralyzed by indecision – keep trying different things until you know.

Rebuilding My Brain in 2017

I feel like my brain is getting slower.

Some context: when I was a kid, I used to feel like I was smart. Like, really smart. I taught myself to program, I was addicted to learning, and I read voraciously — up to 100 pages an hour at my peak. When I found an activity that interested me I’d sink into it obsessively.

But lately, I haven’t felt this way. I’ve felt less creative, less imaginative. It feels like my memory isn’t working properly. I don’t have anything close to the attention span that I once had. This isn’t supposed to happen when you’re 27.

I think I can chalk this up to lifestyle issues The brain is a muscle, and like all muscles, it grows or atrophies based on what you do with it. I’ve become convinced that a steady diet of Twitter and Netflix diminishes your ability to think deeply and creatively.

In The Shallows, Nicholas Carr describes this phenomenon as such: Different media encourage different types of thinking. The internet makes the brain into a jet ski – we skim vast swaths of information quickly, but shallowly. Books make the brain into a scuba diver – we cover less information, but do so more deeply.

The brain is optimized for quick, shallow scans of information. It’s how we survived on the savanna millions of years ago, when “living well” meant identifying threats and opportunities as quickly as they emerged. Left to our own devices, we’ll always go back to the quick-and-shallow media – Facebook, Twitter, CNN, Buzzfeed.

But I don’t want to think shallowly. It’s easier, but it also makes me feel out-of-control. An hour watching Netflix leaves me feeling unsatisfied — at the end, all I want to do is watch more Netflix. An hour of reading leaves me feeling the opposite — energized and satiated, ready to take on the world. Shallow media feels like binge eating fast food; deep media feels like savoring a good, slow meal.

All this is prologue. In 2017, I want to reclaim my attention, for three reasons:

  1. I’m going to be married soon, and I believe that part of being the best husband I can be is to be as present as possible.
  2. The world feels a little sideways right now, and I’d rather be walking around awake than in a binge-media stupor. The 140-character news cycle of Twitter is unhealthy; to be truly informed takes a mind accustomed to deeper thinking.
  3. I just feel better when I’m in control of my brain.

Here are some changes I’ve made this year in the pursuit of a deeper, richer thought life. They’ve been working so far, but it’s been 30 days or less, so consider this a continuing experiment:

  • No more Netflix. I canceled my Netflix account. Now, if I want to watch something, I’ve found a few iTunes U courses that interest me. The courses are far more engaging than watching the same old sitcoms on Netflix, and it turns out that there’s less of an urge to binge watch a Yale professor than the escapades of Ted, Marshall, and Barney.
  • Keep my phone plugged in far away from my bed, so I have to get up and walk to reach it. If my phone is reachable from my bed, I will find myself staring into a beam of light before I go to bed every night, which is terrible for your circadian rhythm, and makes for an unrestful night of sleep.
  • Don’t check social media or the news in the morning. How I start the day sets the tone for the next 16 hours. If I start the day with negativity, alarmism, and short bursts of information, that’ll be my mood for the rest of the day.
  • Removed Twitter from my phone. I’ve already gone years without a Facebook account, and this was the logical next step. Twitter is now inaccessible from my phone, tablet, and (thanks to the macOS app Focus) computer from the time I wake up until 5pm.
  • Read a lot. I’m 4 books in for 2017, and my goal is to hit 50.