Chapter 58: The War for Your Attention

For the past thirteen months, one small habit has had an outsized impact on my life.

Every Friday morning, I sit down and write for three to four hours.

What you’re reading right now is the output of that.

I sit down with my notes app full of random thoughts, questions that stuck with me, or ideas I read or heard throughout the week.

I take those morsels and I wrestle with them.

I go down rabbit holes.

I try to answer questions I don’t have answers to.

I try to articulate what I actually believe.

Some days I rip through it in 90 minutes and walk away on fire.

Other days it’s a slog, and I question why I even do it.

And some days I end up back at my computer at 9 p.m., rewriting because I re-read what I wrote that morning and hate it (hey, it’s me at 9 o’clock right now)

But after 58 weeks of this, through the great days, the shit days, and the rewrites, I’ve realized this tiny habit has fundamentally changed my life.

My memory is sharper.

My conversations are deeper.

And more than anything, my clarity of thought has improved.

There’s no dashboard that quantifies that kind of progress. It’s hard to see in the moment. But over time, you feel it show up in your day to day.

I tell you this because the most valuable thing you have isn’t money or time.

It’s your attention.

The average person now spends over seven hours a day on screens.

And until you realize this and consciously decide where your attention goes, the world (aka big tech) will continue to wage war on your mind, fighting for every second of it.

But this is where things get complicated.

While I hate this with a passion, I’m not anti-tech.

The fact that one person can reach millions, build, write, ship, experiment, and use AI tools to accomplish what used to require an entire team is unbelievable to me.

And I actually make a living around building, creating, and sharing things online, so I’m grateful these tools exist.

But at the same time, I’m acutely aware of how insane it is to be in a constant battle with a twelve-inch screen in your pocket.

The chilling truth is this: the greatest threat to you achieving what you’re capable of is your attention being hijacked.

And the scariest part is that most people are losing this battle without even realizing they’re in it.

This is where the whole “offline is the new luxury” thing starts to make sense.

Some of the wealthiest people in the world now pay for places with no WiFi, no notifications, and no screens.

Luxury used to be about access.

Who you could reach.
What you could see.
What information you had.

Now access is abundant.

You can access almost anything at any moment.

Brain-rot videos. Food. Alcohol. Dopamine. Distraction.

All with nothing more than your fingers.

So the new form of luxury is the ability to disconnect from the ease of modern life.

To create uninterrupted time.
To read.
To write.
To spend time with real humans.
Or simply to sit with your thoughts long enough for something original to emerge.

Those things have become scarce.

And scarcity creates value.

That’s why being offline suddenly feels luxurious.

Reclaiming your attention isn’t some aesthetic lifestyle choice.

It’s an act of self-defense.

So figure out your version of fighting back.

Write a newsletter to no one.
Read more books.
Delete apps off your phone.
Go run a marathon.

Purposely add friction to your life so you can think clearly, without your mind being hijacked.

Because your attention is the most valuable resource you own.

And if you don’t consciously decide what gets it, someone else will.

And I doubt you’ll like the end result.