Like a lot of people right now, I’ve been feeling the fatigue of being permanently online, and I wanted out, if only for a day. So I detached myself from all technology, even if internet access tends to benefit me, defining words and reconstructing sentences before I even finish my thoughts. I locked my phone in the kitchen cabinet for the better part of a day. The result was something I hadn’t experienced in years.

It’s not a secret that intentionally letting boredom strike is becoming popular, even amongst the digital creators whose lives we mindlessly scroll through. However, putting the phone down wasn’t the point – choosing to push through the friction of a day without it, because I knew being intentional was worth the discomfort, was.

I must admit, I sat down to journal with the phone still cooling in the cabinet and caught myself habitually writing the letters 'RN' on the paper, expecting it to magically expand like a text shortcut into "right now" as I kept writing. This embarrassing wake up call told me two things. The first, that I needed to turn off all shortcuts and predictive text features on my phone immediately. The second, that I needed to read more.

“Surely people who read don’t write out text message abbreviations”

I finished journaling, and wandered over to the bookshelf aspirationally filled edge to edge to hopefully select the book that would captivate me so much that I forget my phone wasn’t glued to my hand.

“Steal Like an Artist” stood out like a sore thumb. Not because of its popularity, but because it sat between two novels quite narrow in stature, and if you know anything about the Austin Kleon book, it’s the opposite of tall. The spine protruded from the wall like the book had been expecting me, patient through all the times I've passed the bookshelf with my eyes glued to my phone for design approvals and text messages.

I sat down and decided to read it start to finish. I wasn’t going to get up until the book was closed and I was staring at the back cover.

An hour rushed by and I closed it feeling like I'd gotten something back. I went back to the bookshelf and grabbed an old philosophy book from the 60's, free from a library giveaway, that I took purely because the cover design struck me as something I could steal for a future project. I'd been stealing like an artist before I ever opened the first book. Kleon would call it research.

This one was denser. Filled to the brim with words the modern day person is far too unfamiliar with, and at one point I dozed off into another train of thought for a solid three pages, convincing myself I was reading and utilizing my time wisely.

The day ended slower than I’m used to. After hours by the window, turning over what I’d read, I was met with what I can only describe as intake overload. My mind was moving in a way it hadn't in years, I felt inspired. I felt in tune with my roots - I felt like a kid again, examining my thoughts with a sense of wonder.

This isn't me challenging a perspective so much as a love letter to the basics. Writing it out, it feels almost too elementary to say. But the purity of it was hard to ignore.

The next day, in a meeting, I caught myself explaining the difference between scholars and thinkers. Something I’d apparently held onto from those three “dozed off” pages, retained only because a clever cover design pulled the book off the shelf in the first place. The recall came back unprompted, it no longer felt like overload, it was just basic learning and reference.

Over the week that followed, I realized what was missing in how I create from reference. It wasn't the intake itself, but that I'd been fed the references by an algorithm, or a 'more like this' page, instead of seeking them out with intention.

I’m not interested in pushing culture anymore, or even changing it the way I used to be. Every creative director, entrepreneur, designer, writer, and operator is always talking about changing culture or shifting something. But I watch change happen every day now. Things move faster than they ever have, and “times are changing” applies to tomorrow more than it does to any era we’ve lived through. I’m interested in defining culture, and creating as the result of a lifestyle. Through discipline, routines, high standards, and intention with what we’re given.

My Sunday taught me that to be a definer, you have to prioritize intake in a way that serves your health and your thinking. The one thing we're all given equally is the chance to use our time well. There's more information at our fingertips now than at any point in history – so will we use it with intention, or let it do what it’s meant to, and chip away at us?