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It's Saturday afternoon and I'm lying alone in bed on my phone. The bright midday sun beams through my window. I want to go outside but I can't. I'm stuck.

Instead I lay rotting in bed scrolling social media. Swapping real light for blue light because I can't figure what I’d do outside. The day has already gone by unrealized, frustration with myself boils.

I shuffle from one app to the next, refreshing feeds like a squirrel. Suddenly I catch myself swiping out of Instagram only to unconsciously reopen it 1 second later.

My anger quickly surfaces and in a pathetic fit of rage I chuck your phone across the room. I feel defeated. I just need to get the thing away from me.

Our relationship with technology is fundamentally spatial— in a physical and psychological sense. The internet’s evolution from a desktop computer into ever-slighter form factors has subtly colonized both our physical and mental space.

In the example above, I probably didn't wake up imagining that I'd spend my day indoors on my phone. But it still happened. Now why is that?

I was sleeping with my iPhone. I'd wake up to the sound of my alarm, instinctually check my screen, then be stuck on it for the rest of the day. Here's my theory: this precedent upon waking reinforces an unconscious behavior that permeates throughout the day— thoughtless phone use.

Luckily I found an easy fix, at least for myself. I reintroduced the concept of space in my relationship with technology. By imposing physical barriers with my phone I created more room for myself to think of better uses of my time.

Anyone can benefit from this simple change; it starts with not sleeping with your iPhone.

The internet used to be a place. Maybe your house had one of these suckers:

The computer was like a portal into another world. If I wanted to watch YouTube, I would get up out of my room, go turn on the PC (fun fact: it took 5 minutes to boot up), and grab a snack while I waited. The internet was a ritual that was limited to the confines of a physical space— the living room desk.

Compare that to now: I pull mini screen out my pocket, swipe up, swipe over, tap once and voilà, I’m on YouTube. That's incredible.

It's also dangerous. The internet wasn't always so accessible and convenient; the adverse effects of today’s hyper-connectivity crept up on us. The lines between our digital and material worlds continue to blur: the internet is no longer a separate reality, it is our reality.

I don’t always want to be tapped in. That's why I've decided to draw the line at my bedroom door.

The bedroom is personal sanctuary that serves a few main purposes— sleep, relaxation, study, work. Let the internet seep in through your phone and suddenly the bedroom isn't so clearly defined.

When you're in your bedroom: Are you working or are you distracted? Are you relaxing or are you just entertained? Are you supposed to be sleeping or are you scrolling?

James Clear relates physical spaces to habit formation: "Whenever you organize a space for its intended purpose, you are priming it to make the next action easy."

Whatever you do in your bedroom, I'd imagine your intended purpose isn't being on your phone. But if your phone is always there, unintentionally so, then your space isn't organized for its purpose and your actions will faulter.

Even the mere presence your phone drains your cognitive capacity. There'll always be some level of subconscious distraction if you keep your phone by your side 24/7.

With all this in mind, get clear on what you intend to use your bedroom for. Then determine whether your phone fits into that picture.

I've found it best to keep my phone outside of my room most of the time and to charge it overnight in the kitchen. Afterall, I don't keep a cookie jar full of cookies set on my nightstand. Same applies to my phone.

Now I know you may be reading this on a screen in your bedroom. You may be thinking, "but Kyle, if I don't have my phone in my room I'll be so bored!"

To which I say good! Boredom isn't a bad thing. “Boredom is the desire for desires."

I get bored all of the time when I’m in my room. The difference now is when that moment of boredom arises and I go to reach for my phone— it’s not there. So I have to think for a second: should I get up and go get it? Or should I read, go for a walk, call a friend, or god forbid actually do my work?

That little added friction makes all the difference. Boredom is uncomfortable, yes, but it prompts action.

If your phone is always physically beside you, you're not giving yourself the space you need. Just like the old desktop computer in the living room, try making a 'phone station' at home. The internet becomes more like a tool, less like a distraction.

My prescription to you: Buy yourself an alarm clock. Don't sleep with your iPhone.

— Kyle

If James Clear is self help slop then I’m your dealer: “We tend to believe our habits are a product of our motivation, talent, and effort. Certainly, these qualities matter. But the surprising thing is, especially over a long time period, your personal characteristics tend to get overpowered by your environment.”

*sees anatomical diagram* man, I should’ve studied anatomy *sees Mona Lisa* mann, I should’ve been an artist *sees rhombicuboctahedron* mannn, I should’ve paid attention in geometry. Would’ve loved to buy Leonardo da Vinci a beer.

“when we instinctively mask our boredom through consumption — another episode, another scroll, another purchase — we interrupt an important internal signal.” I’ll get around to giving my take on boredom soon, but check this post out in the meantime if you’re interested in more on the topic.

Real.

This newsletter isn't just my voice echoing into the void (actually it is)— it's the beginning of a conversation. And like any good conversation at a dimly lit bar, I want to hear your stories.

I haven’t heard much from the community in the past two weeks, which is understandable. I’m still new to you guys. Let me up the offer.

Reply to this email with a story and your venmo handle. I will pay you in proportion to the value of your story, and the best ones will be featured anonymously in next week's issue.

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