The other night, I did something that I didn’t believe myself capable of doing. It was a day after another action of similar intent. What did I do? I deleted four apps from my phone. Apps that I opened and used every day.
Games, to be specific.
Much like clearing space on the phone, taking the effort to delete these games cleared the space from my mind.
For over three years, maybe even longer, I have taken the time to open each of those four apps to look over and complete the puzzles that updated daily. It was a part of my morning ritual, like coffee. But it was a ritual I had been growing weary of for some time. Finally, that one night I realized that the games were unplayed for that day. So, I cut the cord binding me to that ritual and deleted them.
Anxiety hit me at first. I felt as though I threw away an accomplishment. I’ve spent hundreds of days in a row in completing these puzzles and countless hours on them and those puzzles that were not just a part of the daily sets. It was unnerving at first. While I knew I was freeing up time, it felt wrong.
And it was wrong. It was wrong that I felt that the value I perceived in that app, in playing any of those games, was real. It wasn’t. It was vapid, void of substance. That is why I ended up sacrificing those apps. And I am happier for it.
Even still, I have my distractions. But my phone no longer is as big a distraction as it was before.
There’s a lot of work left to be had to get myself to a satisfactory level of being distraction free. Or where those distractions are only the welcome kind: friends, family, and a new plot to follow (god, I love those). As I get closer though, I feel more of the fog being lifted from my days.
And that is certainly a good thing.