Reclaiming the sacred
Explore how constant phone use shapes your mind and learn how a digital detox can restore focus, calm and meaning.
You reach it for it before you’ve even opened the unlock screen, before your brain registers the day. It follows you everywhere, like a parasite, and losing or forgetting it feels like life is going to end. More often than not, you fi nd yourself scrolling and “checking” on auto-pilot and in a daze, just in case you’ve missed something.
The pull of the glowing screen is so strong and so baked into our days that it feels impossible to resist. It has seeped into every corner of life — from making phone calls to verifying identity to paying for fuel and groceries. There’s the compulsion to document every morsel, every cracked footpath, every sunset, even though the photos never match the moment. We tell ourselves we’re staying informed and connected … but are we really?
Somewhere between the news alert, the work email and the half-hour lost in an endless loop of reels, something else entirely is happening. We’re searching but not quite sure for what. Smartphones promise connection and inspiration but rarely deliver the kind we truly crave. A notification sparks for a second, then fades, leaving behind an insatiable hunger.
Deep down we know the hold our phones have over us, but so many feel powerless to change this dynamic. How do we go back to “how things were”? For most of human history, the hunger for warmth, creativity and meaning was satisfied in other ways — in the company of friends, in ritual and community, in the leisurely work of making or in time spent with the natural world.
Today, we try to feed our souls through our devices, skimming life as if it were a feed: quickly, distractedly, half-awake. And still, we are left empty.
Fragments of presence
Most spiritual traditions teach that what you give your attention to shapes who you become. As Johann Hari writes in Stolen Focus, “The truth is that you are living in a system that is pouring acid on your attention every day.” The attention economy thrives on engineered distraction. Social media apps and platforms are intentionally designed to hijack your focus, using algorithms that reward your engagement with binges of dopamine (your brain’s chemical messenger for motivation and reward anticipation).
When your attention is shattered into microbursts of checking, swiping and scrolling, you start to mistake stimulation for meaning. Add to this a culture that rewards multitasking and blurs the lines between work and rest, and you end up wired but unsatisfied. The more untethered and fragmented you feel, the more you reach for the device again, trying to plug a hole.
The unspoken agreement on modern life’s soul-stripping rules only further disconnects us. We’ve traded the slow weaving of relationships for quick bursts of text. We’ve stopped calling, preferring one-sided voice notes to avoid discomfort in real time. We’ve replaced the open, unstructured hours where creativity and intimacy once thrived with endless interruptions of alerts. In the process, depth has given way to convenience, and presence has been fractured into pixels. What was once nurtured in conversation and shared experience is now flattened into notifications, emojis and half-glimpsed stories that vanish in a day.
We may not name it out loud, but most of us feel the ache. The noise that we fill our lives with has crowded out our capacity for stillness, imagination and wonder. Attention is more than focus — it is the foundation of how we experience love, purpose and creativity.
To give attention is to give yourself, which is why its constant erosion feels like a spiritual wound. We do not belong to our devices. To reclaim attention is therefore an act of devotion, a way of choosing what and whom we honour with our presence.
Neuroscience of breaks
Science is now catching up with what poets, monks and mystics have always known. Stepping back from constant stimulation changes how your mind functions and how you feel. In one study, young adults were asked to give up their smartphones for 72 hours. Before and after the break, the participants lay in an fMRI scanner while researchers showed them smartphone-related images. The scans lit up something fascinating: brain regions tied to craving, reward and focus (the nucleus accumbens and anterior cingulate cortex) showed measurable changes after just three days. These areas are rich in dopamine and serotonin receptors, the same chemical systems that regulate motivation, habit loops, mood and impulse control.
Dopamine is the brain’s “wanting” signal. It’s trained to fire in anticipation of a reward. In the context of your device, every ping and swipe is a micro-hit of dopamine that keeps you coming back. Over time, the receptors become less sensitive, and it can take more stimulation to feel the same spark. That’s why you may find yourself checking more often or scrolling longer without feeling satisfied.
Serotonin works more slowly and helps to regulate mood, impulse control and a deeper sense of satisfaction. When dopamine pathways are constantly firing, they start to overshadow serotonin. This can leave you feeling restless, anxious and less able to access deeper contentment.
In short: the brain recalibrates to expect quick bursts of stimulation, while losing touch with slower, richer forms of reward. A break gives these systems space to reset. Dopamine receptors become more sensitive again, and serotonin has the chance to restore balance, making everyday pleasures such as a conversation, meal and time outdoors feel nourishing instead of flat.
The study also revealed something unexpected. Participants didn’t feel radically different. Their mood scores and self-reported cravings barely budged. They were reacting less automatically to cues, as if the “habit loop” was loosening even before they consciously realised it.
Longer breaks show even more striking effects. In a two-week study where participants blocked mobile internet access (but could still make calls), 91 per cent reported improvement in at least one area — mental health, sharper focus or better sleep. Cognitive tests suggested their focus had sharpened to the equivalent of rolling back about 10 years of age-related decline.
Small interventions also matter. In a 24-hour study, participants disabled push notifications and set their phones to “do not disturb”. The upside is that they reported more productivity and less distraction compared to a regular day with alerts. Increased anxiety about missing messages and having less social connections was a concern to the participants. This anxiety can be mitigated with some advanced planning.
Digital Detox the right way
Before taking on a digital detox, it’s wise to set yourself up for success. Here’s how to step away without feeling stranded or bored.
If being uncontactable is a deal breaker, create a backup communication plan. To stay reachable, set up a landline or have a basic “dumb” phone for calls and texts only. Give the number to a short list of people who might truly need you. (As a bonus, landlines are making a comeback. They’re handy for teenagers to talk to their friends without having to constantly see themselves on a screen and they learn how to speak with the answering adult.)
To dissuade yourself from “looking things up” on your phone, print or write down what you normally store digitally. This one-time effort pays off if you make the digital detox a regular practice (or in the event of a multi-day power outage). Keep a paper copy of your schedule, important addresses and phone numbers. Print directions or go truly old-school and pick up a street directory or map book in advance for travel.
Go offline with your entertainment, if you choose. For some, the digital detox simply means putting the phone aside, while others may allow TV streaming. Whatever you decide, disable messaging and social apps on your TV.
Gather offline pleasures such as books, magazines, puzzles, craft supplies, a journal or a musical instrument. Play music on a record player or an old CD player. It doesn’t matter what you choose as long as it lets you unwind without a feed or notification.
You’ll also want to swap your phone’s alarm for a real clock and wear a non-smart watch if you need to tell the time on the go. Keep a notepad handy for thoughts, ideas and to-do lists. If you’re worried about missing loved ones, arrange set times to check in via your landline. Or make plans to meet up at an exact time and place — and stick to it!
If you must stay connected for work, use a dedicated laptop or desktop during fixed hours. Keep it in one spot so “just checking” doesn’t follow you around. Block or disable social sites and eliminate temptations to drift back online.
Choose which of these measures will serve you most and remember it’s not about stepping away from the world. You’re choosing to engage in a more deliberate way.
Coming home
Watch how the world comes into focus when you take away the screen between you and it. Begin with a day. Notice what fills the space. For some, it’s new ideas surfacing, while others revel in the slow unfolding of time.
As you weave in more offline practices and rituals, it becomes easier to stretch a digital detox to three days or beyond. Some habits may also infiltrate your daily life. You’ll have the ability to work with your phone out of reach. At night, charge it outside your bedroom so you can begin and end your day in genuine connection with who or what truly lights you up.
Over time, you’ll find yourself resetting your baseline for instant responsiveness. The constant low-level tension can begin to loosen. Cal Newport calls this “the background hum of anxiety” that disappears when you step away from your device. His philosophy of digital minimalism is simple: keep what serves you, strip away what doesn’t and rediscover what’s meaningful in its place.
Without a screen mediating every moment, you reclaim embodied presence. As Dr Shefali Tsabary says, “Life is to be experienced, not fought against, run from, or engaged halfheartedly … to be conscious is to be with an experience as it’s unfolding.” The now is what’s sacred.
Your mind was meant to wander, not just to pass the time, but to weave memory, insight and imagination into a sense of meaning. Scientists call it the default mode network. Sages have called it inspiration. It’s in this wandering that you begin to feel whole again, not distracted, but reoriented towards what matters. A digital detox is an invitation to life itself, richer and more alive.
