I never thought I’d willingly toss my phone aside. You know how it is: our phones have become our wallets, our navigation systems, our daily planners, and, let’s face it, our emotional support devices.
But a recent statistic caught my eye—I read that the average person checks their phone around 96 times a day (some surveys say even more!). That blew my mind. I started wondering how life would feel without the constant compulsion to tap, scroll, and swipe.
So, I decided to do something a little drastic: I replaced my phone with a smartwatch for an entire week.
It felt like trying to cut sugar out of my diet—a bit of excitement mixed with sheer dread. I kept my phone locked away in a drawer at home, only pulling it out in emergencies.
My only communication lifeline? A smartwatch with basic call and text features.
Here’s what happened.
I realized how often I reach for my phone
On day one, my muscle memory betrayed me.
Every few minutes, my hand would reflexively pat my pocket, expecting that comforting rectangular shape. Without my phone, I felt like I was missing a limb.
But here’s the first thing I noticed: so many “urgent” checks were anything but urgent. I’d catch myself thinking, “Let me just see if someone messaged me,” even though I was right in the middle of a conversation with a friend. That subtle urge was more intrusive than I’d ever realized.
The smartwatch’s limited features were both a curse and a blessing
My smartwatch was pretty bare-bones: I could see texts, answer calls, and check the weather. No social media apps. No addictive scrolling. No constant feed.
I’ll be honest: at first, this felt incredibly restrictive.
Imagine standing in line at the grocery store with nothing to do. Normally, I’d have pulled out my phone and scrolled through the latest headlines or half-watched some random video.
Now, I had time to look around, maybe smile at the person behind me, or just let my mind wander.
Interestingly, this shift felt oddly liberating. I wasn’t aimlessly scrolling just to fill the silences. Instead, I let those silences exist.
And guess what? They weren’t as bad as I’d feared.
I faced some real inconveniences
I won’t lie—there were moments I really wanted my phone back.
Trying to type out anything longer than a quick “OK” on a tiny watch screen can feel like building a ship in a bottle. Directions were also a pain. Without a maps app on my phone, I had to rely on either the watch’s limited map function or my own sense of direction.
Let’s just say I had some scenic detours around London that week!
Even browsing for quick information—restaurant hours, train times, random trivia—became a mini-mission. I’d ask a friend, or just wait until I got home to look it up on my laptop.
While this definitely slowed me down, it also shifted my mindset. Not having instant answers forced me to plan better or to accept not knowing something right away.
My social interactions changed in subtle ways
Have you ever been at dinner with friends and noticed everyone’s phone parked on the table? It’s like we’re all half available to each other and half in some digital elsewhere.
Without a phone, I was forced to be present. My smartwatch buzzed whenever I had a call or text, but it was easy to glance and decide whether to handle it later.
I’d been missing out on these little in-person moments, like noticing the way someone’s eyes light up when they talk about their passion project or how the background music in a café can set the entire tone for a conversation.
I found more pockets of mental clarity
Phones are notorious for turning idle time into quick-hit entertainment.
Waiting in line, riding the train—these are the moments we typically fill by scrolling through social media. But with only my smartwatch, those micro-moments turned into mini breaks for my mind.
I started thinking more creatively. My mind wandered into topics I hadn’t considered in a while.
Just a few minutes here and there gave me some surprising insights for my writing and even triggered memories of historical facts I’d read in one of my favorite political science books. I’ve mentioned this before but I’m a big believer in rethinking how we approach everyday technology. This experiment reinforced my conviction that boredom can be a breeding ground for fresh ideas.
Research backs this up. One study from the University of Central Lancashire found that boredom can stimulate creative thinking because it encourages the mind to wander in new directions.
By removing the phone’s constant feed of distractions, I certainly felt I gave my mind the space to roam free.
I gained a new appreciation for intentional tech use
I’m not saying we should all throw our phones into the ocean. Phones have their place—they can be powerful tools for staying informed and connected.
What this experiment taught me the value of intentional usage.
It reminded me of an idea by bestselling author James Clear, who wrote, “Environment is the invisible hand that shapes human behavior. ” In other words, the way we structure our surroundings—including our digital ones—directly impacts our habits and mindset.
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That’s what I took away from this week: we can design how we interact with technology. Instead of letting it control us, we set rules and guardrails.
Even small tweaks—like turning off notifications or limiting app usage—can create a huge difference in our day-to-day mental load.
One week later: final reflections
Looking back, I’d call this experiment a mixed bag of revelation and frustration.
On the one hand, it was undeniably inconvenient to navigate the city and keep up with work tasks on a tiny screen. On the other hand, it was liberating to escape the digital frenzy that often consumes my day.
I realized just how much time I waste on my phone, and how draining it can be to feel tethered to an endless stream of notifications. Instead, my smartwatch gave me bare-minimum functionality, forcing me to be deliberate about when and why I picked up a device.
I also observed a shift in how I connected with friends and colleagues. By not having my phone out every few seconds, I was able to deepen real-world conversations. Honestly, that alone was worth the temporary inconvenience.
Now, I’m not throwing my phone into permanent exile—there’s too much it does that’s genuinely helpful. But I’m making a few changes.
For starters, I’m keeping notifications for email, messaging apps, and social media turned off most of the day. I’ll check them when I’m ready, not when the phone demands it. I’m also scheduling blocks of “phone-free time” in the evenings. That means no phone on the dinner table, no phone while reading, and definitely no phone during personal reflection time.
If you’re curious, consider trying a phone swap for a day or two. You don’t even need a smartwatch—maybe just power down your phone after dinner, or keep it in another room for a few hours. You might be surprised at how you feel.
And if you do decide to go the smartwatch-only route, be prepared for some clumsy text replies and the occasional missed GPS route. It’s not all smooth sailing, but the rewards—like mental clarity and being fully present—might make it worth the inconvenience.
Until next time—keep exploring, keep questioning, and maybe give your phone a little break. You never know what you’ll discover in the silence.
