Bettering Me

Tag: Attention Economy

  • Screen Glare Creates a Low-Grade Orienting Response That Never Fully Shuts Off

    Written by

    Unpaid Intern

    –

    The cost of screen use is usually described in cognitive terms – attention fragmentation, shallow processing, distraction. These are real, but they miss a more fundamental mechanism: sensory cost. Screens hijack the orienting reflex, a primitive neural circuit that evolved to detect novel stimuli in the environment, and they keep that circuit partially engaged even when you are not actively looking at them.

    The orienting reflex, first characterized by Soviet physiologist Evgeny Sokolov, is a hardwired response to novel or changing stimuli. When something new appears in the sensory field – a sound, a movement, a change in light – the brain temporarily reallocates resources to evaluate it. [1] The reflex is essential for survival: it is why you notice a branch move in the forest. But it is catastrophically mismatched to a digital environment where stimuli change hundreds of times per hour.

    Screens trigger the orienting reflex through multiple channels. Visual flicker from refresh rates, motion from animations and video content, and brightness changes from notifications all activate the reflex. The problem is not that each individual activation is costly – it is that the reflex never fully habituates to digital stimuli, because the stimuli keep changing. In a natural environment, the orienting reflex adapts to stable stimuli and stops firing. In a digital environment, stability is rare.

    The evidence for the most commonly proposed fix – blue-light-blocking glasses – is weak. A 2021 systematic review found that blue-light-filtering lenses showed no significant effect on eye strain, sleep quality, or visual performance compared to standard lenses. [2] The blue-light narrative is convenient because it offers a product-based solution, but the data does not support it. The problem is not the wavelength of the light. It is the instability of the visual field.

    The intervention that does work is sensory isolation: periods of low-variation visual input that allow the orienting reflex to stand down. The most accessible form is outdoor time with eyes on the horizon – no phone, no book, no podcast. The horizon provides minimal novelty. The orienting reflex gradually habituates, and the neural cost of sustained orientation drops. [OPINION]

    The recommended dose is 20 minutes of outdoor light exposure – ideally in the morning, but any time of day helps – with the explicit instruction to look at the horizon or at distant objects. The horizon is the strongest signal of “nothing to evaluate” that the visual system receives. It triggers the opposite of the orienting reflex: ambient, low-effort visual processing that allows the nervous system to disengage from active threat-scanning.

    The mechanism behind this is supported by Attention Restoration Theory, which proposes that directed attention (the kind required for screen work) is a limited resource that must be replenished by involuntary attention (the kind activated by natural environments). [3] Natural environments are “softly fascinating” – they engage attention without demanding it – allowing the directed attention system to recover. Screens are the opposite: “hardly fascinating,” demanding constant directed attention.

    Two sensory isolation sessions per day – 20 minutes each – are enough to significantly reduce the orienting reflex burden. The first should be within an hour of waking to set the circadian system and clear the overnight accumulation of sensory debt. The second can be at any point in the afternoon when screen fatigue peaks. The cost is zero. The barrier is behavioral: the compulsion to fill every gap with input.

    The objection to this protocol is almost always the same: “I don’t have time for two twenty-minute breaks.” This objection is itself a symptom of the problem. The orienting reflex has been running all day. The twenty minutes is not lost time – it is recovery time that makes the remaining hours more productive because the sensory system is no longer partially activated. Framing it as a break misses the point. It is maintenance. The same way you would not run a car engine at redline all day without cooling it, you should not run the orienting reflex continuously without giving it a chance to habituate.

    Disclaimer: This post is for inspiration and education, not medical advice. Everyone’s body is different, so please check with your doctor before changing your diet, exercise, or lifestyle routine. By using these tips, you agree to do so at your own risk.

    References

    [1] Sokolov EN. Higher nervous functions: the orienting reflex. *Annual Review of Physiology*, 1963. DOI: https://doi.org/10.1146/annurev.ph.25.030163.002001

    [2] Singh S, et al. Blue-light filtering spectacle lenses for visual performance, sleep, and macular health: a systematic review. *Ophthalmic & Physiological Optics*, 2021. DOI: https://doi.org/10.1111/opo.12870

    [3] Kaplan S. The restorative benefits of nature: toward an integrative framework. *Journal of Environmental Psychology*, 1995. DOI: https://doi.org/10.1016/0272-4944(95)90001-2

  • Screen Apnea Is Your Nervous System Confusing Email with Physical Threat

    Written by

    Unpaid Intern

    –

    You have done it today. You read a Slack message, an email, or a notification, and you realized you were holding your breath. The phenomenon has a name: screen apnea. Linda Stone, a former Apple researcher, coined the term in 2008 after observing that roughly 80% of people show breath-holding or shallow breathing patterns while reading or composing email – even when the content is neutral. [1] Two decades later, the observation is more relevant than ever.

    The mechanism matters more than the name suggests. Screen apnea is not a bad breathing habit that needs correcting. It is a startle response – your nervous system interpreting incoming information as an unknown variable and bracing for impact. The breath hold is the physiological signature of threat anticipation. Your body is preparing for a worst-case scenario before your conscious brain has even parsed the subject line.

    This is not metaphorical. The startle response is a well-characterized reflex. When the brain detects an unexpected or ambiguous stimulus, it initiates a cascade: the eyes widen to enhance visual intake, the shoulders elevate to protect the neck, the torso stiffens, and breathing stops or becomes irregular. [2] This is the same response your ancestors had to a branch snapping in the forest. Your email inbox is triggering the same circuitry.

    The reason email is particularly effective at triggering screen apnea is that it combines anticipation with social evaluation. Email arrives unpredictably. It carries potential demands, criticism, commitments, and conflicts. Your nervous system cannot distinguish between an ambiguous social signal and an ambiguous physical threat because the physiological preparation for both is identical. The breath hold buys time – a fraction of a second where the system pauses to gather more information before committing to a response. The problem is that email keeps arriving, and the breath holds keep accumulating.

    Screen apnea is distinct from sleep apnea in one important respect: you can fix it by changing your relationship with the information, not by changing your breathing. The “fix” that most advice offers is breathing exercises during email – pause, inhale, exhale, then read. That approach treats the symptom. The actual intervention is recognizing that your nervous system is treating information as danger and redesigning the information environment accordingly.

    The diagnostic protocol is simple. For the next hour of email processing, periodically check your breath. If you find yourself holding it, the specific message you were reading is a trigger. That message may not feel stressful at a conscious level, but your autonomic nervous system disagrees. The combination of anticipation + ambiguous social content + perceived demand is what triggers the response, not the content itself. [3]

    The structural fixes that reduce screen apnea are the same ones that reduce decisional fatigue: batch processing, notification elimination, and response windows. But they help with screen apnea for a different reason. When you batch email processing, you reduce the unpredictability of information arrival. Predictable processing windows allow the nervous system to relax between sessions because there is no uncertainty about when demands will appear. The startle response is extinguished not through breathing techniques but through predictable scheduling.

    A counterpoint worth noting: not all breath-holding during screen use is pathological. Brief respiratory pauses during concentrated cognitive work – sometimes called “task-related apnea” – are a normal physiological response to focused attention. The difference is duration and frequency. Screen apnea is characterized by extended or repeated breath-holds that produce a cumulative CO2 buildup and maintain the sympathetic activation that shallow breathing perpetuates. The line between normal and problematic is crossed when the pattern persists throughout the day, not just during moments of intense focus.

    Linda Stone’s original observation was a diagnostic gift, not a prescription. The value of naming screen apnea is not that it gives you something to fix. It is that it reveals what has been happening without your awareness. Once you know your nervous system is treating your inbox as a threat, you have the information you need to change how you relate to it. The breath is not the problem. The information architecture is. Fix the architecture, and the breath follows.

    Disclaimer: This post is for inspiration and education, not medical advice. Everyone’s body is different, so please check with your doctor before changing your diet, exercise, or lifestyle routine. By using these tips, you agree to do so at your own risk.

    References

    [1] Stone L. Screen Apnea observation. Published via lindastone.net, 2008

    [2] Porges SW. The polyvagal theory: phylogenetic substrates of a social nervous system. *International Journal of Psychophysiology*, 2001. DOI: https://doi.org/10.1016/s0167-8760(01)00154-0

    [3] Mather M, Thayer JF. How heart rate variability affects emotion regulation brain networks. *Psychophysiology*, 2018. DOI: https://doi.org/10.1111/psyp.13206

  • Friction Is Not Enough – You Need Separation. If the Tool Is Accessible in Under Two Clicks, You Will Use It

    Written by

    Unpaid Intern

    –

    The standard advice for reducing phone use is friction. Delete the app. Log out. Turn off notifications. Make it harder to access the distraction.

    Friction works – for about two weeks. Then the friction itself becomes part of the habit loop, and you adapt. You log back in. You reinstall the app. You turn notifications on “just for this one thing.” The friction approach fails because it treats the symptom (accessibility) without addressing the architecture (proximity).

    Why Friction Eventually Fails

    The principle is simple: if a tool is accessible in under two clicks, you will use it – regardless of what your rational self has decided.

    Behavioral psychology calls this the “default effect” [1]. When the default path (open phone, tap icon) leads to a distraction and the alternative path (find different device, wait for boot, navigate to deep work environment) leads to focus, the default wins almost every time. Not because you lack willpower, but because the path of least resistance is not a choice – it is a reflex.

    Friction approaches ask you to create a competing reflex. Delete the app, and you must reinstall it to use it – that is friction. Log out, and you must log back in – that is friction. This works while the friction is novel. But the brain adapts to friction the same way it adapts to any repeated behavior. After two weeks, the reinstallation process becomes routine. The login screen becomes familiar. The friction stops being a barrier and becomes part of the habit loop.

    The deeper issue is that friction approaches are vulnerable to the “what-the-hell effect.” You skip the friction once – you leave the app installed “just for tonight” – and the entire structure collapses. Friction systems are binary: they work or they do not. When they fail, they fail completely.

    Separation as the Fix

    The sustainable alternative is separation: the device for deep work must not be the device for distraction. Not a different account on the same machine. A physically separate device.

    This is not a metaphor. A phone that does your thinking should not be the phone that does your scrolling. A laptop used for writing should not be the laptop with social media bookmarks. The architecture of your attention is determined by the architecture of your tools.

    Separation works because it replaces a willpower problem with a logistics problem. It is easier to leave the scrolling phone in another room than it is to resist picking it up from your desk. Willpower is depletable. Logistics is not.

    The practical implementation: if you do knowledge work, have a device that only does knowledge work. No social media, no news apps, no games, no YouTube. If you want to do those things, use a different device. The separation creates a physical boundary that friction cannot replicate. When the scrolling device is in another room, you cannot scroll – not because you resisted the urge, but because the urge would require getting up and walking to retrieve it. By the time you have walked to the other room, the urge has often passed.

    The Threshold Question

    The threshold for “accessible” differs by person. For some, the phone in the pocket is too accessible. For others, the phone on the desk is fine but the phone in the hand is not. The test is: under what conditions do you successfully resist the distraction? When the answer is “only when it is physically out of reach,” you have found your threshold.

    The mistake is fighting your threshold. If you need physical separation to resist distraction, do not try to develop willpower. Restructure the environment. The person who leaves their phone in the car during a deep work session is not weak. They are strategic.

    The Practical Starting Point

    If a separate device is not feasible, the next best option is physical location separation within the same space. A phone in a drawer in another room is better than a phone on the desk. A phone in a cabinet across the room is better than a phone in a drawer. The gradient matters. Each step of physical distance adds a decision point – and decisions, unlike reflexes, can be overridden by your rational brain.

    The key is to make the separation automatic rather than deliberative. Do not decide each time whether to put the phone away. Have a designated place for the distraction device and a designated place for the work device. The ritual of moving the phone to its place becomes the trigger for deep work, replacing the willpower negotiation that friction requires.

    Measuring the Cost

    If separation sounds extreme, measure how many times you have reinstalled an app you deleted for “focus.” Each reinstall is data – evidence that friction alone is insufficient for your current environment. The question is not whether you are weak. It is whether you are willing to restructure the environment so that weakness does not matter.

    The phone you use for thinking should not be the phone you scroll on. If you have only one phone, you are not choosing between focus and distraction. You are choosing which one to be more often.

    Separation is the architecture of cognitive sovereignty. It is not about being stronger. It is about not needing to be.

    Disclaimer: This post is for inspiration and education, not medical advice. Everyone’s body is different, so please check with your doctor before changing your diet, exercise, or lifestyle routine. By using these tips, you agree to do so at your own risk.

    References

    [1] Thaler RH, Sunstein CR. Nudge. Yale University Press; 2008

  • Information Overload Produces Real Fatigue – Not Because Thinking Is Tiring, but Because Not Deciding Is

    Written by

    Unpaid Intern

    –

    The standard explanation for information fatigue is cognitive overload. The idea is that your brain has a limited processing capacity and that excessive information exhausts it. That explanation sounds intuitive, but it misses the actual mechanism. The fatigue from information overload is not primarily cognitive – it is decisional.

    Roy Baumeister’s research on ego depletion established that making choices depletes self-regulatory resources more than performing cognitively demanding tasks without a choice component. [1] In the classic paradigm, participants who made a series of choices showed significantly reduced persistence on subsequent tasks compared to participants who performed equally demanding tasks without making choices. The implication is that the act of deciding – not the act of processing – is what taxes the system.

    A follow-up study by Vohs and colleagues sharpened this distinction. Participants who made repeated choices in a consumer context showed reduced self-control and physical stamina compared to participants who merely considered the same options without choosing. [2] The cognitive exposure was identical. The only difference was the decision. And that difference produced measurable depletion.

    This distinction explains why modern information work produces fatigue that feels disproportionate to the mental effort involved. Reading a dense document is cognitively demanding but rarely fatiguing in the same way that triaging fifty emails is. The document requires processing – sustained attention, comprehension, and integration. The emails require decisions – respond, archive, delegate, flag, delete. Each email is a micro-decision, and micro-decisions accumulate into macro-fatigue. By the end of an hour of inbox triage, you have made dozens of low-stakes decisions that have consumed the same resource pool used for high-stakes decisions later in the day.

    The mechanism has a somatic dimension that is often overlooked. Indecision and micro-decision accumulation produce measurable physical tension. The furrowed brow, the held breath, the forward-leaning posture – these are the somatic correlates of being in a perpetual evaluation state without committing to action. The body registers indecision as incomplete motor output, and incomplete motor output maintains sympathetic activation. [3] The fatigue you feel after a day of information triage is not just mental. It is the accumulated tension of dozens of decisions that were evaluated but never closed.

    The practical fix is not more recovery time. It is reducing the number of decisions that require evaluation in the first place.

    The highest-leverage interventions are structural rather than behavioral. Close channels that produce decisions without producing value. Mute notifications that interrupt flow without urgency. Define information intake windows – two fifteen-minute blocks per day for inbox processing rather than continuous triage. Each of these moves the decision burden from real-time to batched, and batching reduces the fixed cost of task-switching. [4] The fatigue lifts not because you rested, but because you plugged the leak.

    The “default to no” heuristic is the simplest operational tool. Most incoming information does not require a response. Treating it as though it does is the primary source of decisional fatigue. If every email is a decision, every email is cost. Defaulting to “no action required unless this meets explicit criteria” converts a continuous stream of decisions into a small number of deliberate ones. It is not rude. It is resource management.

    There is an important counterpoint. The ego depletion literature has faced replication challenges. A 2017 study by Lurquin and Miyake failed to replicate the classic choice-depletion effect, suggesting the phenomenon may be smaller or more context-dependent than originally claimed. [4] The replication debate is ongoing, and the effect size is probably smaller than Baumeister’s early work suggested. However, even if the effect is modest, the practical direction is consistent: decisions cost something, and reducing unnecessary decisions preserves resources. The mechanism may be smaller than advertised, but the intervention still works.

    The bottom line is that the fatigue you attribute to “too much information” is often “too many decisions about that information.” The fix is not better information management. It is fewer decisions. Stop triaging. Start batching. Default to no. The tiredness will tell you which approach was right.

    Disclaimer: This post is for inspiration and education, not medical advice. Everyone’s body is different, so please check with your doctor before changing your diet, exercise, or lifestyle routine. By using these tips, you agree to do so at your own risk.

    References

    [1] Baumeister RF, et al. Ego depletion: is the active self a limited resource? *Journal of Personality and Social Psychology*, 1998. DOI: https://doi.org/10.1037/0022-3514.74.5.1252

    [2] Vohs KD, et al. Making choices impairs subsequent self-control: a limited-resource account. *Journal of Personality and Social Psychology*, 2008. DOI: https://doi.org/10.1037/a0012633

    [3] Hagger MS, et al. Ego depletion and the strength model of self-control: a meta-analysis. *Psychological Bulletin*, 2010. DOI: https://doi.org/10.1037/a0019486

    [4] Lurquin JH, Miyake A. A meta-analysis of the choice-depletion effect. *Journal of Personality and Social Psychology*, 2017. DOI: https://doi.org/10.1037/pspa0000071

  • The Real Attention Span Crisis Is Not Shorter Spans – It’s Fewer Spans Per Day That Reach Depth

    Written by

    Unpaid Intern

    –

    The headline you keep seeing is that human attention spans are shrinking. The data behind it is usually weak – most of the “eight-second attention span” claims trace back to a misread Microsoft study from 2015 [1]. But the problem is real. It is just being measured wrong.

    The relevant metric is not how long you can stay on a task before switching. It is how many times per day you reach a state of full cognitive immersion.

    The Wrong Metric

    The eight-second attention span claim has been thoroughly debunked by cognitive scientists, but it persists because it captures a felt truth: attention feels more fragmented than it used to. The problem is that the claim measures the wrong thing. Attention span – the time before a first switch – is a weak proxy for cognitive function because it conflates voluntary task-switching with involuntary interruption.

    The real question is not how long you can stay on something. It is how often you reach a state where you are fully on something – where your cognitive resources are entirely allocated to the task, where background thoughts fade, where time distorts. This state is what cognitive scientists call “flow” or “deep engagement,” and it has specific neurophysiological markers: reduced default mode network activity, increased dorsolateral prefrontal cortex activation, and a shift in EEG patterns toward lower-frequency bands.

    The headline metric should be depth episodes per day. Not time-on-task. Not hours at a desk. Depth episodes.

    Depth Episodes vs. Time-on-Task

    One 90-minute block of deep work produces more output than six 15-minute blocks of partial attention. This is not a motivational claim. It results from the cognitive architecture of your working memory, which requires a warm-up period to load the relevant context before productive processing can begin [2].

    The warm-up period is not optional. Every time you engage with a complex task, your brain must reconstruct the mental model – the relevant facts, the relationships between them, the current state of the problem. This process takes 10-20 minutes for most knowledge work tasks. During this warm-up, you are not producing. You are loading.

    Every time you switch – every tab, every notification, every quick check – you flush the context and pay the reload cost. The 15-minute block that starts with loading context, gets interrupted at minute 12, and never reaches coherent processing is not a focus block at all. It is a warm-up that never arrived.

    The average knowledge worker may report three or four “focus sessions” per day. The number of those sessions that reach actual depth – sustained, uninterrupted, context-loaded cognitive work – is closer to zero or one. The rest are warm-ups interrupted before they produced anything.

    The Trend That Matters

    The trend that matters is not the average time-on-task ticking downward. It is the declining frequency of depth episodes over the past decade.

    The data is observational but consistent: knowledge workers are interrupted every three to five minutes on average during computer work [3]. At that rate, a depth episode is structurally impossible unless the worker actively isolates themselves from the communication environment. The default state is fragmentation. Depth is an exception that requires active defense.

    When depth episodes are rare, your brain adapts to shallow processing as the norm. You stop experiencing the desire to go deep because your system has recalibrated to expect novelty every few minutes. The cycle reinforces itself: less depth means less tolerance for depth, which means even less depth.

    This is the actual attention crisis. It is not that your attention span is shorter. It is that you never get to use it at full capacity. You have the equipment but the environment never lets you deploy it.

    What the Metric Should Be

    The sovereign attention system tracks one number: depth episodes per day. Not hours spent at a desk. Not tasks completed. Not inbox-zero status.

    A depth episode requires three conditions: a single task, uninterrupted time, and a warm-up period long enough to reach cognitive immersion. For most people, that means blocks of at least 45 to 90 minutes with no context switching.

    The practical implication is uncomfortable: most of what we call “work” is not work in any meaningful sense. It is context-loading that never arrives at production. If you tracked your depth episodes per day for a week, the number would likely be sobering. That is not a judgment. It is data.

    If you have one depth episode per day, you are outperforming the average. If you have two, you are in the top tier. If you have zero, the problem is not your attention span. It is your environment. And environments can be changed – not easily, but directly. Block the time. Protect the block. Count the episodes. That is the metric that matters.

    Disclaimer: This post is for inspiration and education, not medical advice. Everyone’s body is different, so please check with your doctor before changing your diet, exercise, or lifestyle routine. By using these tips, you agree to do so at your own risk.

    References

    [1] Microsoft Canada. "Attention Spans." 2015

    [2] Rubinstein JS, Meyer DE, Evans JE. Journal of Experimental Psychology: Human Perception and Performance. 2001;27(4):763-797. DOI: https://doi.org/10.1037/0096-1523.27.4.763

    [3] Mark G, Voida S, Cardello A. CHI 2012. Pages 555-564. DOI: https://doi.org/10.1145/2207676.2207754

  • Your Morning Hour Belongs to the Algorithm by Default. Taking It Back Costs Nothing Except the Discomfort of Silence

    Written by

    Unpaid Intern

    –

    The analogue first hour has become a staple of productivity advice. Do not check your phone in the first 60 minutes of waking. Keep the morning screen-free. Start the day on your terms.

    The advice is correct. The justification often misses the point.

    Not Productivity – Originality

    The analogue first hour is not about productivity. It is not about getting more done in the morning. It is about starting your day with your own thoughts, not someone else’s.

    When you check your phone within minutes of waking, the first content that enters your consciousness is algorithmically curated. You begin the day as a consumer of other people’s priorities – their emergencies, their opinions, their content. By the time you set the phone down, your mind has been colonized. The first original thought of the day never had a chance to arrive.

    The productivity framing misses this entirely. It says: do not check your phone so you can get more done. But the value of the analogue hour is not that you get more done. It is that the thoughts that enter your head are yours. The email that arrived at 6 AM will still be there at 7 AM, and responding to it at 7 AM versus 6 AM changes nothing about the outcome. What changes is what happens in the space between.

    The discomfort of the first 10 minutes without a screen is not boredom. It is resistance to the silence. The silence is threatening because it is empty – and emptiness is where your day’s first original thought lives. Most people never reach it.

    The First Thought

    There is a specific cognitive phenomenon that occurs in the first hour of wakefulness, before external input begins. The mind, still transitioning from sleep, produces thoughts that are less filtered, more associative, and more connected to your own inner landscape than to external demands [1].

    This is not a mystical claim. It is a description of what happens when the brain’s default mode network – the system active during wakeful rest – is allowed to operate without interruption from external stimuli. The default mode network is the system that supports self-referential thought, future planning, and creative association [2]. When you fill the first hour with input, you suppress it.

    The suppression is not total. You can still have creative thoughts later in the day. But the first hour is uniquely suited for this type of cognition because the prefrontal cortex – the system responsible for executive control and external attention – has not yet fully engaged. The brain is in a transitional state, more receptive to internal signals than external ones. Screen input activates the executive system prematurely, ending the transitional window before it has produced anything of value.

    What the Default Mode Produces

    The thoughts that emerge in this window are qualitatively different from the thoughts that emerge later in the day. They are less constrained by practicality, less shaped by social desirability, less filtered through the lens of what others might think. They are more connected to your actual concerns, values, and intuitions.

    The default mode network is the system that integrates past experience with future planning. It is the system that produces the insight “I should talk to X about Y” or “the real problem with Z is not what everyone thinks it is.” These are not random thoughts. They are the output of a cognitive system optimized for synthesis – and they require silence to operate.

    When you fill the morning with input, you crowd out the synthesis. You replace your own priorities with the feed’s priorities. By the time you get to your first real thought of the day, you have already processed dozens of other people’s thoughts. Your first original thought does not arrive until late morning, if it arrives at all.

    What Taking It Back Costs

    The cost of taking the morning hour back is approximately zero dollars and approximately 10 minutes of discomfort per day for the first week.

    The phone will still be there. The news will still be there. The emails do not compound hourly – a message sent at 7:15 AM does not become more urgent by 8:15 AM. The only thing lost in the analogue hour is the feeling of being connected to everyone else’s reality before you have established your own.

    The protocol is simple: do not check a screen for the first 60 minutes after waking. No phone, no laptop, no tablet. The first thought of the day is the one you generate – not the one the algorithm delivers.

    The first three days will feel like deprivation. By day seven, the silence will feel like a resource. By day fourteen, you will wonder how you ever started your day any other way. The discomfort is not a sign that the protocol is wrong. It is a sign that the protocol is working.

    If you have not had an original thought before 9 AM in the past month, you now know why. The silence is waiting.

    Disclaimer: This post is for inspiration and education, not medical advice. Everyone’s body is different, so please check with your doctor before changing your diet, exercise, or lifestyle routine. By using these tips, you agree to do so at your own risk.

    References

    [1] Walker MP. Why We Sleep. Scribner; 2017

    [2] Raichle ME, et al. Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences. 2001;98(2):676-682. DOI: https://doi.org/10.1073/pnas.98.2.676