For two weeks while on holiday recently, I consciously uncoupled from my phone.
Not completely. I still used it when necessary for calls and messages from travelling children. But I deliberately stepped away from the endless cycle of notifications, social media scrolling, news consumption and habitual checking that has become second nature.
What happened surprised me. By the end of the fortnight, I had read two books, something I hadn’t done in almost three years. I stopped picking up my phone every five or ten minutes. I felt calmer, less anxious and more focused. Tasks that had previously seemed difficult to complete suddenly felt manageable. Most surprisingly, I no longer felt tethered to my device. On several occasions I accidentally left it at home when going out and didn’t feel the slightest panic.
It was a small experiment, but it revealed something important to me about the relationship I have with my phone. And I say relationship, because it does feel like that.
Since about 2007, we’ve been told that smartphones would make life easier and in many ways they do. There’s something pretty magical about being able to find the best gelato on the Amalfi Coast. And they connect us with friends and family, help us navigate unfamiliar places and provide instant access to information 24/7. Yet many experts are increasingly questioning the psychological cost of constant connectivity.
Research continues to find links between problematic smartphone use and increased levels of anxiety, depression, stress and poor sleep. A 2023 review published in the journal Healthcare found that higher smartphone use was associated with significantly higher levels of stress, anxiety and depression, suggesting that reducing smartphone use may improve mental wellbeing.
The problem isn’t necessarily the technology itself. Rather, it’s the way our brains have adapted to constant stimulation. Every spare moment can now be filled with scrolling, swiping, clicking and consuming content. Waiting in a queue, sitting on a train or even walking down the street has become an opportunity to check our phones.
During my two-week break, I discovered how often I had been reaching for my phone without any conscious reason. The action was almost automatic. A moment of boredom, uncertainty or discomfort would trigger the urge to check.
This is precisely the phenomenon explored by journalist and author Manoush Zomorodi in her influential book Bored and Brilliant.
After seeing Zomorodi at a digital conference in 2015 in Washington, I have been struck by her research into how smart phones have changed our lives and habits both mentally and more recently physically. In the eleven years since the groundbreaking research that prompted her to write Bored and Brilliant, it feels like our relationship to technology and our phones has increased exponentially.
Manoush argued that modern technology has effectively eliminated boredom from our lives, and in doing so may be robbing us of creativity, reflection and deeper thinking. According to her research, moments of boredom allow the brain’s “default mode network” to activate, helping us process information, solve problems and generate new ideas.
Zomorodi’s latest work expands the conversation beyond attention and creativity to the physical consequences of our digital habits. In her 2026 book Body Electric: The Hidden Health Costs of the Digital Age and New Science to Reclaim Your Well-Being, she argues that our relationship with technology isn’t just changing our minds, it’s changing our bodies. Drawing on research conducted with Columbia University physiologist Dr Keith Diaz and a citizen-science project involving more than 20,000 participants, Zomorodi found that prolonged screen use contributes to stiff necks, poor posture, eye strain, fatigue, disrupted sleep, reduced body awareness and increased anxiety. Participants in the study frequently reported feeling “wired and tired”, mentally overstimulated yet physically exhausted.
One of the book’s central findings is that modern technology encourages us to ignore the body’s natural signals. Hours spent hunched over screens can lead to shallow breathing, reduced circulation and a disconnect from what scientists call “interoception”, our ability to recognise internal bodily cues such as fatigue, hunger, stress or the need to move. Zomorodi argues that the constant pull of notifications, emails and social media doesn’t simply distract us; it can leave us less aware of our physical selves.
The encouraging news is that the solution doesn’t require abandoning technology altogether. The Body Electric project found that regular breaks from screens and short periods of movement improved mood, reduced fatigue, sharpened attention and even increased productivity. Participants who interrupted their screen time with brief movement breaks reported feeling more energetic, more focused and less overwhelmed by the digital demands of daily life.
For people of faith, there is another benefit that is harder to measure but equally important. When we stop reaching for our phones every few minutes, we create space for stillness. That stillness can feel uncomfortable at first because it removes the constant noise and stimulation that modern life provides. Yet it is often in silence and solitude that deeper questions emerge. Prayer, contemplation, scripture reading and reflection all require attention, something increasingly scarce in a distracted age.
Many of the great spiritual traditions understand that human beings need moments of quiet to hear the voice of God, examine our lives and reconnect with what truly matters. A phone sabbatical creates room for those moments. Instead of filling every pause with scrolling, we become available to reflection, gratitude and spiritual awareness. The same mental space that allows creativity to flourish can also become fertile ground for faith.
My own experience reflected this reality. As the compulsion to check my phone faded, I found more time not only for reading and completing tasks but also for thinking, praying and being present. The world became a little quieter. And in that quietness, I discovered something that many faith traditions have known all along: stillness is not empty. It is often where the most important things begin.
As Zomorodi has often observed, stillness often equated with boredom isn’t a problem to be solved. It’s a mental state that creates space for imagination and insight.
I found this to be true. Without the constant distraction of social media and online news, my mind seemed quieter. At first that felt uncomfortable. There were moments when I instinctively reached for my phone only to remember that I had decided not to engage.
But after several days something changed. The urge began to weaken. Instead of scrolling while waiting at a checkout or food to be delivered at a restaurant, I simply sat and observed the world around me. Instead of filling every spare moment with content, I allowed my thoughts to wander. Rather than consuming endless opinions and breaking news, I found myself thinking more deeply about the things that actually mattered in my own life: faith, family and connection.
One of the most noticeable changes was in my anxiety levels. Like many people, I have fallen into the habit of receiving much of my news through social media feeds. While staying informed is important, social media often presents information in a way designed to provoke emotional reactions. Outrage, fear and conflict attract attention.
Stepping away from those feeds didn’t make the world’s problems disappear, but it significantly reduced my sense of being overwhelmed by them. The problems are still there, they are just not being fed into my brain every 10 minutes.
I felt calmer.
I actually read books.
I was less emotionally exhausted.
Research supports these experiences. Experts at the Columbia University Department of Psychiatry note that heavy social media use has been linked to depression, anxiety and loneliness, while the design of many platforms encourages compulsive engagement.
Perhaps the greatest benefit was improved concentration. Many people underestimate the cognitive cost of constantly switching attention. Every notification, message or quick glance at a phone interrupts focus. When those interruptions disappear, even temporarily, the brain can devote more energy to sustained thinking and task completion.
That’s exactly what I experienced. Projects that had lingered unfinished suddenly moved forward. Reading became enjoyable again (I read two books!). Conversations felt more present. Time seemed to slow down.
Importantly, the goal isn’t permanent disconnection. Even Zomorodi doesn’t advocate abandoning technology altogether. Her work encourages a healthier and more intentional relationship with our devices rather than complete abstinence.
The long-term benefits of regular “phone sabbaticals” appear to extend beyond a temporary sense of relief. Studies suggest that reducing smartphone use can lower anxiety and depression symptoms, improve sleep quality, increase physical activity and strengthen attention spans. Even modest reductions in daily screen time have been associated with measurable improvements in wellbeing.
After two weeks, I didn’t emerge as a different person. But I have emerged with a different relationship to my phone.
The device that had quietly become the centre of so many daily habits no longer felt essential. I no longer feel compelled to check it every few minutes. The anxiety of being disconnected disappeared. And perhaps most importantly, I rediscovered something that modern life often neglects: the value of stillness.
And here’s where my relationship with God benefited from my conscious uncoupling, I was able to recouple with the things that matter to me, which is my faith that God is in the details, rather than my phone filling the liminal space in my brain that should be left for God, imagination and creativity.
In a culture that constantly demands our attention, choosing to step away from our phones for a while may be one of the simplest and most effective mental health interventions available.
Sometimes the best connection we can make is the one we regain with ourselves and our wellbeing.
