Episode 116 – My 4-Day Digital Detox…What Happened Was Shocking

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Note: This blog post serves as an accompaniment to the corresponding podcast episode of A Changed Mind, where we’ll distill down the core ideas of this week’s theme, along with additional distinctions and insights. If you haven’t listened to the episode yet, you can go here to do so.  Enjoy.

We live in a world that moves at the speed of light. We swipe, tap, scroll, and consume information at an overwhelming pace. It’s become second nature to grab our phones at a stoplight, refresh social media feeds without thinking, and listen to podcasts at double speed just to keep up. We tell ourselves that staying constantly connected is necessary—that it makes us more productive, more informed, more in control. But does it really?

For a long time, I convinced myself that my technology use was normal, even beneficial. I justified the countless hours spent answering emails, scrolling through updates, and monitoring statistics as a requirement of modern life. But beneath the surface, I could feel the toll it was taking. My focus was fragmented, my stress levels were high, and my ability to truly be present with my loved ones was suffering.

I knew something wasn’t right.  So I made a radical decision—at least, radical by today’s standards. For four days, I quit technology. No phone. No laptop. No email. No social media. And what happened during those four days changed everything.

At first, the idea terrified me. How would I function without my devices? Would I miss something important? Would I feel disconnected from the world? But what I discovered was the exact opposite. Instead of feeling lost, I felt found. Instead of feeling anxious, I felt calm. Instead of being overwhelmed by information, I was able to think clearly for the first time in a long while.

This experience made me realize just how deeply technology had infiltrated my daily life. It wasn’t just a tool I used—it was something I had become dependent on. And if I was feeling this way, I knew I wasn’t alone.

The truth is, we live in a culture that rewards constant engagement. We feel pressure to always be available, to always be consuming, to always be responding. But in doing so, we sacrifice something invaluable: our peace of mind.

What I learned from my digital detox is something I believe everyone needs to hear. Because if you’ve ever felt overwhelmed, distracted, or simply exhausted by the demands of modern life, stepping away from technology—even temporarily—might be the most powerful thing you can do for yourself.

The Wake-Up Call That Started It All

This all started because my wife saw something I wasn’t willing to admit: I was burning out. I was irritable, overwhelmed, and constantly reacting instead of responding. I had a major event coming up, and my default approach was to cram, over prepare, and push through. But she urged me to take a break—something I had resisted for years.

At first, the idea seemed absurd. How could I disconnect when there was so much to do? But deep down, I knew she was right. I was moving too fast, and I wasn’t thinking clearly. I needed to reset, so I committed to four full days of stepping away from technology completely.

It’s funny how we can become so attached to our routines that even the thought of breaking them creates anxiety. We rationalize staying plugged in by telling ourselves it’s necessary for success, for connection, for staying ahead. But what if the very thing we think is keeping us in control is actually controlling us? That’s what I was about to find out.

When I finally agreed to the detox, I decided to do it right. No half-measures, no sneaky glances at my phone “just to check.” I told my team I would be offline, my wife and I agreed that she would handle anything urgent, and I set my devices aside. As I powered down my phone for the first time in years, I felt an immediate rush of anxiety. What if I missed something important? What if someone needed me? What if I fell behind?

But beneath that anxiety, there was something else—a quiet, unfamiliar feeling of relief. I hadn’t realized how exhausting it was to be “on” all the time. The constant notifications, the pressure to respond, the never-ending stream of updates—none of it was truly urgent, yet it had occupied so much space in my mind. Now, for the first time in a long while, I had permission to simply be.

I went to bed that night feeling lighter. I had no idea what the next four days would bring, but I knew one thing for certain: something inside me was shifting. And I was ready for it.

The Immediate Shock of Disconnection

The first thing I noticed was how habitual my tech use had become. The first morning, I reached for my phone instinctively—only to remember it wasn’t there. I noticed how often I had the urge to check for notifications, even when there was nothing urgent awaiting me. My mind had been trained to crave constant stimulation, and without it, I felt uneasy.

But that uneasiness didn’t last long.  By the second day, something profound started happening. The mental fog I had been living with for months began to lift. My thoughts slowed down, but not in a bad way. I felt present, like I was experiencing life in real-time instead of rushing through it.

I also started noticing the world around me more. I heard the birds outside my window in a way I hadn’t before. I felt the warmth of the sun on my skin and actually took the time to enjoy it. Conversations with my wife became deeper and more meaningful because I wasn’t half-distracted by my phone.

I realized how much I had been missing, not just in my own internal world but in my relationships. We think we’re present when we’re multitasking, but we’re not. True presence requires undivided attention. Without technology pulling me in a million directions, I had the bandwidth to truly listen, reflect, and engage.

On the third day, I noticed another shift—my sleep improved. Without the blue light from screens affecting my melatonin production, I fell asleep faster and woke up feeling genuinely rested. My stress levels dropped, and for the first time in what felt like forever, my mind wasn’t racing before bed. The silence that had initially felt unsettling was now comforting.

By the fourth day, I was fully settled into a new rhythm. I wasn’t worried about what I was missing online. Instead, I was fully immersed in what was happening around me. I realized just how much my technology habits had been hijacking my attention and stealing moments of peace.

The Addiction No One Talks About

Here’s the thing—I’ve overcome addictions before. Alcohol. Drugs. Even sex addiction. But technology? This was a different beast. It was more insidious because it wasn’t seen as a problem. It was woven into everything—my work, my social life, my identity.

The scary part is that technology addiction doesn’t hit you all at once. It sneaks up on you gradually. You don’t wake up one day and realize, “I’m addicted to my phone.” Instead, it happens slowly over time. You start by checking your notifications a few times a day. Then it’s every hour. Then every few minutes. Before you know it, your phone is the first thing you reach for in the morning and the last thing you see at night.

After just four days, it was like someone turned the lights back on. I saw how much I had been missing, how often I had been half-present in conversations, how my mind had been cluttered with unnecessary noise. And I knew I couldn’t go back to the way things were.

But what made this so dangerous was how socially acceptable it was. No one questions you when you pull out your phone in a meeting, at a dinner table, or while waiting in line. In fact, it’s almost expected. People don’t see it as an issue, which makes it even harder to recognize when it’s controlling you.

I started thinking about how much I had let technology dictate my life. It wasn’t just a tool I used—it was something that dictated my mood, my stress levels, and even my self-worth. How many times had I checked social media just to see if my latest post was getting engagement? How many times had I refreshed my inbox, hoping for some email to validate my work? It was never about the information—I was chasing a dopamine hit.

The irony of all this is that technology is designed to keep us hooked. Tech companies spend billions engineering apps that capture and hold our attention. The constant notifications, infinite scrolling, and autoplay features aren’t accidental—they’re carefully crafted to ensure we keep coming back. And I had fallen right into the trap.

This realization hit hard. It wasn’t just about me anymore. If I, someone who considers himself self-aware and intentional, had become this reliant on technology, what about everyone else? What about kids who were growing up with screens as their default? What about people who had never known a life without constant digital connection?

The Profound Benefits of a Digital Detox

If you’ve ever felt overwhelmed, stressed, or like life is slipping through your fingers, I want to challenge you to consider what’s really causing it. It’s not just the workload, the obligations, or the never-ending to-do list. It’s the constant mental stimulation that never allows us to truly pause and reset.

Here’s what I gained in just four days:

• Clarity: My thinking became sharper. Instead of feeling like I was drowning in tasks, I had a clear sense of what really mattered. The difference was night and day. I was able to prioritize better and make more intentional decisions.
• Presence: I was fully engaged in conversations with my wife, my family, and even with myself. I wasn’t just physically there—I was mentally and emotionally present. This led to deeper, more meaningful interactions.

• Peace: The anxious feeling of “always needing to check something” faded. I felt calmer, more at ease, and more in control of my mind. I had more patience, more stillness, and a greater sense of well-being.

• Creativity: Without constant input from external sources, my own thoughts had space to expand. New ideas surfaced. Solutions to problems became obvious. I began journaling again and rediscovered the power of my own imagination.

What I found most surprising was how quickly my nervous system adapted. By the second day, my stress levels had dropped significantly. I wasn’t reacting to the world—I was engaging with it on my own terms. And that shift, that ability to slow down and be fully present, was more valuable than any email, notification, or update I had missed during those four days.

It became clear to me that our minds were never designed to process the sheer volume of digital input we receive daily. We’ve conditioned ourselves to believe that productivity means constant engagement, but in reality, true productivity—and happiness—come from focus, intention, and stillness. This detox showed me that when I create space for my mind to breathe, my best ideas, my deepest peace, and my greatest joy emerge effortlessly.