Category: Lifestyle & Mindset

The Winter Yuck and How to Not Rot Entirely during Winter

~ Brooke F. ~ Leave a comment

This is something I’m half writing for myself. Let me set the stage for you real quick.

It’s January. I’m snowed in. The Holidays are done and over with, and I am more than a little antsy. My weekend has left me bored and stagnant, as I’ve been trapped at home for far too long. While some might think this would be a WONDERFUL time to catch up on the long-dead hobbies and creative endeavors that I’ve left at the wayside of life due to busy-ness, I have found this time not so…constructive nor productive. Why, you might ask? It’s simple… I’ve got a case of Winter Yuck.

I am so so so ready for spring. It gets dark early. It’s nasty outside. When I get home from work, I just want to eat, watch tv, and hit the hay early. I am anything but motivated. Perhaps it’s the perpetually gray sky? Or perhaps it’s the inability to go outside for a refreshing walk, but regardless, the result is the same. I am doing a whole lot of nothing.

So, I’ve written a little guide for myself to follow as spring slowly creeps ever closer. Maybe you need it too?

First, bullet point number one….

Don’t go to bed immediately. Try to stay up and enjoy something. This could be reading a mere 5 pages of a book or popping popcorn and watching a new movie. Just do something that you can tell your friends that you did with your evening. One redeeming thing is all it takes. Then you can go to bed.

Bullet point number two is in regards to your writing…

If you find yourself absolutely hollow creatively, maybe put a pause on the self-induced guilt trip, and try consuming writing instead. This still contributes to your growth as a writer. It is so so important that you read and engage with other creative voices, and it’s a little more pasisve and requires less energy than creating the work itself.

My other tip in regards to your winter writing slump, is to do something ELSE creative. Not writing related but still creative. Writing is creativity + words. When you read, you’re still developing the WORDS part of that equation. When you’re doing another creative hobby, you’re developing the CREATIVE part. Still progress, friends. It still counts.

Bullet point number three…

If it’s miserable outside, try to get up and move around your house. You can do this by cleaning or taking a quick shower. Sometimes this is all it takes to get you out of hibernation mode. If not, then at least you or your house its clean. Time to go to bed,

And Finally…

Be easy on yourself. Winter sucks. I get it. It’s my least favorite season, too. I’m a plant at heart. I need sunshine. But spring will come again soon, just hang in there.

It’s at the point that I’m going to insert a master list of winter-friendly creative tasks, divided into low-energy to medium-energy. Maybe give it a skim if you find yourself at a loss for what to do with your life right now. Some of these are even winter-unique so perhaps you can find a bright spot in all this gray!

Please note, I tried to make these activities have a bit more of a whimsical spin. You can scroll Pinterest for your more generic “learn to crochet” type activities. I am by no means going to preach the benefits of scrapbooking either. Here are just some out-of-left-field but fun things you can do to try and prevent yourself from succumbing to winter-induced brain rot. Take what you want and leave what you want.

Low-Energy (Bed, Couch, or Chair by a Window Activities)

  • Re-title your life as if it were a novel
    Write five alternative titles. Bonus points if one sounds vaguely Victorian or mildly tragic. The modern version of this is title your life like it’s a show and divide your life into “seasons”. Who would the characters be?
  • Make a “things that felt important this winter” inventory
    Include tiny things: a mug, a song you played on repeat, a phrase you overheard. This can help you try and find some creative meaning in the midst of a not-so-fun or colorful season.
  • Annotate your own memories
    Pick one small memory and write footnotes explaining what you didn’t realize at the time. Kind of like journaling but shorter and more focused.
  • Create a winter alter ego
    Give her a name, a coat, a favorite hot drink, and one quirky habit or interest.
  • Transcribe comfort
    Handwrite a poem, passage of scripture, recipe, or letter that steadies you. No analysis. Just copying as a means to meditate or collect.
  • Design a room you’ll never have
    Describe it in words only. Light, textures, where the chair sits. No Pinterest allowed.
  • Write extremely short letters you will never send
    To: the moon, your childhood bedroom, the version of you who thought 2020 was the year (oof. Sorry, girl).
  • Make a list called “Things Winter Is Good At”
    Keep it humble. Dusk. Soup. Long shadows at 4:30 pm.
  • Rename the months like an old folklore calendar
    January becomes “The Month of Locked Doors,” and so forth. You can make them cute or ominous or fantastical or something entirely different.
  • Curate a personal winter museum
    Five objects on your desk. Write one sentence about why each deserves a placard.

Low-to-Medium Energy (Tabletop, Floor, or Soft Music Required)

  • Create a survival guide for your specific winter
    Include rules like: “No big decisions after sunset” or “Always light a candle before you shower”.
  • Make a tiny ritual out of something you already do
    Tea, skincare, feeding the cat. Give it a beginning, middle, and end. Then write it down for yourself down the road. Collect these winter rituals in a book. Maybe even ask your friends if they have some of their own?
  • Rewrite a fairytale as Southern gossip or local legend
    Not a full story—just the tone and rumor version that you’d imagine your local church-going gossips reaccounting.
  • Assemble a “cold-weather soundtrack” for a fictional character
    Or even yourself. But this can also be a character development exercise.
  • Practice intentional loitering
    Sit near a window or porch and observe one thing for a little while.
  • Write a poem that never mentions winter but is clearly about winter
    Focus on restraint. Omission is the point.
  • Create a recipe that exists only in theory
    Name it. Describe when and how it would be served. You do not have to cook it.
  • Sort your photos like an archivist
    Create albums that are separated by color, adventure, life phase, or even time of day.
  • Draft a one-page “field guide”
    Examples: Field Guide to People Who Disappear in Winter, Field Guide to Indoor Light, Field Guide to Quiet Evenings.

Medium-Energy (Still Gentle, Still Cozy, But Upright)

  • Rearrange one small space like you’re preparing for a long stay
    A drawer, a shelf, a nightstand. Be prepared, yaknow?
  • Write a winter letter to yourself to read in spring
    I’d recommend to keep it observational, not aspirational. No goals. Just telling your future self how excited you are for sunshine to come back.
  • Create something meant to be used up by the season
    A candle plan, a soup rotation, a nightly reading list.
  • Host a solo “slow afternoon”
    One album, one warm drink, one creative task. No multitasking allowed.
  • Make a map of your hometown or neighborhood. Make it winter-specific if you’d like.
    This can be real or imagined. Perhaps you map all the hibernation spots of the fairies and goblins or maybe you make a map that shows you the best place to get a hot chocolate.

I hope these tips have been useful to you. Hang in there, and stay alive!

How not to be Boring

~ Brooke F. ~ Leave a comment

Let’s clear something up first and straight out of the gate. Please note that being “boring” has very little to do with how exciting your life looks online and everything to do with how engaged you are with your own existence. I am not at ALL talking about performative “interesting” that hounds us online. That, very honestly, could be a blog post of its own. This isn’t about appearances.

You can live in a small town, work a normal job, go to bed at a reasonable hour, and still be deeply interesting and have a remarkable personal life. Conversely, you can travel constantly, attend trendy events, and still be painfully dull if you move through life on autopilot and without engaging with those experiences.

The difference is passion (In my humble opinion at least).
And not the loud, capital-P, quit-your-job kind that also seems to be making its rounds regularly on the internet. Capital P passion is usally used to sell you lifestyle coach or course that supposedly will fix your life. I’m talking about quiet attentiveness. Curiosity. The ability to take the mundane and tilt it just enough that it becomes intentional and…well, interesting!

If you want to not be boring, you don’t need to overhaul your life. I think the secret lies in reframing your perspective.

My authority to speak on this matter comes entirely from me having the audacity to write this and the fact that I KNOW I’ve been boring in certain phases of my life but interesting in others. That’s another note I guess, that is also worth mentioning here: You can become interesting if you find yourself falling into the lull of being a boring person. The vice versa can also be true. You can be interesting and then slip into monotony. Let’s not pretend these are permanent labels.

Alright! I think that’s all the disclaimers. Let’s dive into what I think makes an interesting person interesting…

The Core Rule: Care About Something (Preferably Many Things)

The most boring people I’ve met all share one trait: they don’t care. They scroll, they consume, they comment vaguely, but they don’t engage. No strong opinions. No private obsessions. No enthusiasm. OR their whole personality depends on whatever is trending that month. It doesn’t go deeper than that.

Passion is what gives life texture. You don’t have to be the best at something to love it. Nor do you have to know everything about everything. You just need to care.

Care deeply about your morning coffee and the perfect way to fix it.
Care about how your body feels when you walk, and how nice those birds are singing today, and how red that mailbox is.
Care about learning one strange, specific thing really well.

Boredom is less about what you do and more about how absent you are while doing it.

Moving Around: Make It a Game, Not a Chore

Movement is one of the easiest places to inject interest, because it already asks something of you physically. The trick is to stop framing it as productivity.

Instead of:

  • “I need to go on a run.”

Try:

  • “I won’t stop running until I’ve spotted ten blue things.”
  • “I’m walking until I notice three houses with weird door knockers.”
  • “I’m stretching while imagining I’m a medieval scribe trying not to get scoliosis.”
  • “I’m running to collect five weird rocks. I will not stop until I have collected five weird rocks.”

Movement becomes interesting when it has a focus, not a finish line.

You don’t need a fitness goal (though those are totally fine too!). You probably just need something to notice. Something to collect. Something slightly ridiculous. Everything doesn’t have to be a to-do list, including movement. I think, in part, this is why it was so easy to move around as a kid. I wasn’t “going for a walk to walk off my dinner”. I was going on an adventure. I was going to collect dragon eggs (which involved finding the roundest rocks in the area and then bringing them home and painting them a variety of colors). Try and tap into the whimsy.

Mind-Building Activities: Give Your Brain Something to Chew On

A bored mind is usually an underfed one.

This doesn’t mean you need to be constantly “learning” in a grindset way. It means you should regularly do things that require sustained attention and mild effort.

Examples:

  • Reading books that challenge your worldview or introduce unfamiliar ideas.
  • Listening to long-form podcasts instead of endless short clips.
  • Memorizing poetry, facts, or historical oddities for no reason other than delight.
  • Thinking deeply about one question and letting it bother you.
  • Oh! And write down what you discover. What’s the point if you don’t retain anything or can’t look back on it?

If all your thoughts are borrowed from the internet, you will sound like the internet. And the internet is, frankly, exhausting and irksome at times. It’s also ever-changing and ever enraged. You need to ground yourself in something that isn’t in a screen.

Life Skills: Competence Is Interesting

There is something deeply un-boring about a person who knows how to do things. And helpful. Dear Goodness, so helpful. Your friends will thank you.

Learn how to:

  • Cook one meal really well.
  • Sew a button.
  • Fix something small instead of replacing it.
  • Write a clear email.
  • Host people comfortably.

Life skills ground you in the physical world. They give you stories as well as some confidence. They make you less dependent on convenience, which automatically makes you more interesting. In fact, I would go as far to say that competence is downright attractive. Curiosity about competence is even better. Don’t be a damsel in your own life, waiting for people to save you from whatever “dragon” crosses your path. While I give the internet a lot of crap, I do think it is amazing for cracking down on lame excuses to not learn how to do something.

Hobbies: Be Bad at Something on Purpose

You don’t need a monetizable hobby. You need a hobby that absorbs you. The internet will try to tell you that hobbies and interests are “cringe” (Not always, but I’ve seen it). Try, friend! You don’t have broadcast it. Just try the thing and feel good inside.

  • Paint badly.
  • Play guitar poorly.
  • Dance badly.
  • Garden with reckless optimism.
  • Collect something niche and inexplicable.

Hobbies are where passion is allowed to exist without justification. They remind you that joy doesn’t need an audience. And, sometimes, eventually, if you stick with something long enough, you might even get good???

If you can talk excitedly about something no one else cares about, congratulations. You’re not boring. You’re doing something right.

The Necessities (Yes, These Are Non-Negotiable)

Read

You simply cannot be interesting if you don’t read.

Reading gives you language and Perspective. It introduces you to thoughts you didn’t know you could have. There is not escaping its importance.

Read fiction. Read essays. Read things that annoy you a little. Read slowly. Read often. Read magazines. Read articles. (Maybe take a break from reading tweets, though).

Journal

Not because it’s aesthetic and definitely not because it’s trendy. Do it because if you don’t record your life, it might disappear from your memory.

Journaling turns experiences into a narrative. It helps you notice patterns and preserves the small, strange moments that would otherwise evaporate into a fine mist that is gone before you even realize.

Interesting people remember their lives (or most of it anyway). Journaling helps with that.

Get Off Your Phone (Sometimes)

Your phone is a boredom amplifier masquerading as entertainment.

Being constantly online flattens experience and trains your brain to be in a million places at once, but NEVER the present. Everything starts to feel the same. You stop noticing where you are because your attention is always elsewhere.

Boredom, ironically, is often the doorway to creativity. Put the phone down long enough to let your mind wander. Something will eventually happen. A spark will replace that boredom eventually, but you have to let it happen. You’re also training your brain to be lazy and never come up with ideas on its own. This is why our first instinct when we’re bored or uncomfortable is to seek solace and direction from our devices.

Final Thought: Pay Attention

Not being boring is not about doing more. It’s about noticing more. Build a life you are actively paying attention to, and boredom won’t stand a chance.

Passion is being present. That is the takeaway here, I think.

But Idk, man. These are just my opinions. It’s your life.

The “Don’t Save the Sticker” Theory: There’ll never be a perfect time for anything

~ Brooke F. ~ Leave a comment

This concept is not novel, but I was thinking about it in specific terms the other day. When you were a kid, did you have save stickers to wait for the perfect time and perfect surface to use them on? But, surprise, surprise, that perfect moment never came? Circumstances were never quite right enough.

I logically know that life is imperfect by nature and most things are hard to begin but the seriousness of decision paralysis hit me in a special way when I considered this childhood lens. Those stickers I hoarded? I have no CLUE where they are now. The window for using them ended at some point, unbeknownst to me. A theory very similar to this one that I’ve dubbed the “don’t save the sticker” theory (so official sounding, I’m really breaking new ground over here) is the Fig Tree analogy. The idea is that in life, you are presented with a branch of figs which represent opportunities. These figs tend to serve as a metaphor for different careers and life paths one could pursue BUT you only have so much time to choose your figs as they will eventually rot. You have to choose one or you essentially choose none.

This theory is a bit hyper-focused in career paths and “roles” one could play in life so, to a degree, I disagree with it. I think you can be a successful artist who is also a horse-back rider. An accountant can go home and write novels. We are limited by time, yes, but I don’t think it’s quite so dire that we can only choose one singular fig. I think we can be many things in life and it’s never too late to try pivoting.

That’s why I like the concept of the “Don’t save the sticker”. It really emphasizes simply taking what opportunities you can, even if they’re not what you perceive as “perfect” circumstances. This is theory is in line with the saying of “do it tired” or “do it scared”. Just do it. (Oh look, I’m Nike now).

I think the real tragedy of saving the sticker isn’t that we might use it “wrong,” but that we quietly accept inaction as neutrality when it’s actually a choice. Not choosing is still choosing. I have to remember that not making a decision is often me choosing comfort, familiarity, or the illusion that I’ll be more ready later. And later is SUCH a slippery concept. It feels infinite right up until it isn’t.

Maybe the goal isn’t to use every sticker wisely, but to use them at all. To slap them onto notebooks that get scuffed, water bottles that eventually crack, or moments that aren’t Instagram-worthy but are real and lived-in. A sticker on a scratched surface still did its job: it existed.

I don’t want a life where everything stays pristine because I was too afraid to commit. Let things be temporary, flawed, and unfinished if that’s the cost of letting them exist at all.

After all, unused stickers don’t become more valuable with time. They just disappear.

That time I started writing a Self-Help Book

~ Brooke F. ~ Leave a comment

Did you guys know that I started a self-help book at one point in time? It sounds goofy, but it was on a topic I had become passionate about as it personally affected me. This, of course, as this title suggests, was the art of living alone. Guys, when I tell you I struggled…

I grew up a fairly introverted person (at least I thought anyways). I liked playing alone. I didn’t have tons of friends in middle school, which generally didn’t bother me too much. I liked having my own space and keeping it nice and neat. I thought moving out would be a cinch.

After a brief stint with a roommate, I was living alone. Which was amazing! Until it wasn’t. And then I started writing this book and got 5 chapters in before abandoning it. I was actually revisiting it recently as I was cleaning some files off my computer and started rereading. While there are already some edits I think I would make (gosh, I was melodramatic at this time), I did enjoy the trip back in time especialy now that I’m married and definitely NOT living alone. So I thought I’d share the first chapter with you here. Let me know what you guys think and if I should bother resurrecting this long-dead project! So here we have it! Chapter one of…

How to not go Crazy (And other notes on living alone)

Introduction

The windchime outside my window is a reminder that there’s a world beyond these four walls, but some days, it’s hard to remember that I’m part of it. Inside my apartment, the air hangs heavy with the kind of silence that amplifies every creak, every hum, and every thought with nowhere else to go. The fridge drones away in the kitchen. The coffee machine sighs and grumbles like a mechanical beast awakening from slumber as my coffee drips into the mug. This is my life as a woman in her 20s, living alone.

In my newly found sanctuary, I find myself night after night, wrestling with thoughts that only seem to show their ugly face when the house is still. They whisper about the coming future, taunting me with the “what ifs” that I am far too familiar with. The apartment that is filled with the laughter of friends and family during the day sighs with the weight of my loneliness when everyone eventually parts ways.

It was on one of these nights that I started a list. I can see it clearly: me, lying in bed, the phone’s glow illuminating the darkened room, fingers poised over the keyboard. The title was simple and direct. I just want to be good at being Alone. It was a declaration of intent, a manifesto, a silent shout into the void that was my apartment. I’d uttered it out loud many times, often to myself, sometimes to close friends, my mother, and my sisters. Truth be told, they’re probably tired of hearing it. I feared that if I didn’t get better at this, they’d stop asking me how I was.

But they didn’t, and they haven’t. They still care. They still ask. They still listen. It’s a testament to the most important lesson I’ve learned in my solitary living: I am alone, but I am also not alone. Nights may be long, but, as corny as it sounds, morning always comes.

Chapter 1: Learn to Cook for One

I began jotting.

Learn to Cook. Have a Crock Pot. Collect Recipes.

Then underneath:

This is not only a practical skill to learn but a point I want to prove. People often equate companionship with a shared meal. I just want to show myself that I can be satisfied. I want to show myself that I can take care of her.

Cooking for one is an art form. It is one that requires patience, foresight and even a bit of creativity. It’s about finding joy in those little victories. The comforting warmth of a meal prepared with care as well as the knowledge that you’ve provided for yourself. It’s not just about feeding your body; it’s also about feeding your soul. It’s about telling oneself that you deserve to invest time into your meals even if they’re just for you and you alone.

In the beginning, it was hard. I found myself standing in the grocery store, staring at the aisles of food that seemed designed for families or couples. Bulk packaging, family-sized portions were my biggest opposition at first. Nothing seemed to fit my life. But I quickly realized that cooking for one is about more than just cutting recipes in half. It’s about learning to see the kitchen as a place of possibility rather than yet another area of life that highlights my loneliness.

The first dish I mastered was a simple one—beef stew. There is something deeply comforting about a bowl of homemade stew, especially on those days when the world feels too big and scary. I made it in my trusty crock pot, the slow cooker that has become my closest ally in this solo culinary journey. The process was meditative, and I loved every bit of it from The slow chopping of vegetables, to the seasoning of the broth, to the slow simmering that filled my apartment. It made my humble abode actually feel like a home.

As I stirred the stew, I realized that cooking for one shouldn’t’ be a chore. It’s should be about savoring the moment, taking the time to care for yourself in a way that’s both practical and deeply loving. It should be about being present. There’s a satisfaction that comes from knowing that you can sustain yourself, that you can create something yummy (even if its only for you!)

I began to experiment more in the kitchen by trying new recipes and adapting them to fit my needs. I learned how to freeze portions for later and how to make a meal that would last for days without losing its appeal. I found joy in the ritual of cooking and in the simple pleasure of feeding myself well.

Over time, I elaborated on this list item even more.

  • See grocery shopping as a little solo adventure and not a chore.
  • Invest in good ingredients sometimes; don’t be afraid to spend a little $$$ on yourself sometimes
  • Don’t be afraid to try something new.

Cooking for one became a way to reclaim my independence and to remind myself that I am enough, just as I am. It was no longer a task to be dreaded, but a skill to be honed. It was a form of self-care that nourished not just my body, but my spirit.

And so, I encourage you to do the same. Find your favorite recipes, experiment with new ones, and most importantly, savor the experience. This is your space, your life. Take the time to make it delicious.

Have a Crock Pot.

Of all the kitchen appliances you could own, the humble crock pot might just be the most useful when living alone. At first glance, it’s easy to overlook. I historically disliked it when I lived at home. It was a bit bulky as well as a bit old-fashioned (very reminiscent of my grandmother’s kitchen). But don’t let appearances fool you. This unassuming appliance is your secret weapon in the art of solo living.

Why a crock pot? Because of its simplicity, convenience, and the power to transform basic ingredients into something that feels like coming home. When you’re living alone, time can either stretch or shrink depending on the day, and a crock pot gives you the flexibility to feed yourself without being tethered to the stove or forced to babysit a dish all day.

Imagine this: you wake up in the morning, knowing it’s going to be one of those long, exhausting days. The last thing you want to do when you get home is cook. We’ve all been there. But the good news is, with a crock pot, all you need is a few minutes of preparation. Throw in your ingredients—maybe some chicken, vegetables, broth, and spices. Then set it, and forget it, sister. As you go about your day, your meal is quietly simmering away, filling your home with the comforting aroma of something cozy and yummy. By the time you return, dinner is ready, and you’ve already put all the work in at the front end of the process and even then it wasn’t that much.

Having a crock pot isn’t just about convenience (though that is an enormous plus). It’s also about consistency. When you’re cooking for one, it’s easy to fall into the habit of eating quick, unhealthy meals or skipping dinner altogether. I know the latter was a trap I found myself falling into far too often. It came to a point where I had to tell myself that no, chips and salsa don’t count for an entire meal. My eating habits were bad and all over the place. Another plus of the crock pot is that encourages you to take the time to plan ahead as well as create meals that will carry you through the week. It’s a tool that helps you establish a routine and a rhythm in your life that grounds you when everything else feels uncertain. It helped add a certain level of dependency to my meal plan.

Next, let’s talk about versatility. Whether you’re in the mood for a rich beef stew, tender pulled pork, or even a comforting mac and cheese, the crock pot can do it all. It’s particularly great for making meals in batches, which means you can cook it once and eat multiple meals. This is a lifesaver for those days when you simply don’t have the energy to prepare anything but still want something home-cooked. It isn’t just limited to soups and stews.

Another benefit of using a crock pot is that it’s incredibly forgiving. Unlike other cooking methods that require precise timing and constant attention, the crock pot is more laid back. You can experiment with different ingredients and spices without worrying too much about getting it wrong. The long cooking process melds flavors together in a way that makes even the simplest of ingredients taste like you’ve been slaving over the stove for hours.

And let’s not forget the cleanup. As you may be all too aware of, cleaning up is up to you and you alone. The last thing you want is a sink full of dishes to deal with after work. With a crock pot, you can often make your entire meal in one pot, saving you both time and effort. A quick wash and rinse and it’s ready to go!

In the end, I view my crock pot as more than an appliance. It’s a companion on my journey of living alone. It is a simple but amazing tool that makes the everyday task of meal prep feel a little less daunting. Please take this as a reminder that you deserve to eat well, even if you’re the only one at the table. So, invest in a good one, and let it become a reliable, old friend.

Collect Recipes.

In learning to cook, recipes can serve as more than just instructions for making food—they can be threads that connect you to the people and places you love. When you’re standing in your kitchen, cooking a meal from a recipe handwritten by your mother, it’s as if she’s right there with you, sharing a moment that transcends the physical distance between you.

Collecting recipes isn’t just about building a repertoire of dishes; it’s about creating a personal archive of memories, stories, and connections. Each recipe you gather is a piece of your history, a way to carry the warmth of loved ones into your daily life. Your mother’s handwriting on a worn recipe card, the smudges of flour and sauce, the little notes in the margins—they all tell a story. They speak of her care, her love, and the countless meals she prepared with you in mind.

When you cook from these recipes, you’re not just feeding yourself; you’re participating in a ritual that spans generations. It’s a way of saying, “I’m here, and so are they.” In a way, your kitchen becomes a meeting place for the people who’ve shaped you, even if they’re miles away or are no longer with us.

It’s not just family recipes that carry this power either. Recipes from friends should also hold a special place in your collection. Each one is a token of friendship, a shared experience that lives on long after the meal has ended. When a friend shares their favorite recipe with you, they’re offering a piece of themselves, a gesture of affection. And when you cook that recipe, you’re reminded of the times you’ve spent together along with the bond you share.

Just think about it! How cute is it that humans not only developed unique ways to prepare their food and nutrients to please their palette but also feel a sense of identity with these aforementioned methods? We record these processes and share them with those close to us. Sharing recipes is an innately human experience so please take part of it!

Building a recipe collection is also a way to create new connections, to expand your culinary horizons. You might come across a recipe online or in a cookbook that intrigues you, something you’ve never tried before. As you experiment with it, tweak it, make it your own. Who knows? Maybe it’ll become one of your regular meals and something you can one day pass on to others.

In this way, your recipe collection becomes a living, evolving document of your life. It’s a mix of the old and the new, the familiar and the adventurous. It can become a reflection of who you’ve known and where you’ve been. I’d like to think that as I add to my growing collection of recipes, I am also collecting memories, experiences and a sense of community.

When I’m feeling particularly alone, pulling out one of these cherished recipes can be a huge comfort. It’s a way of reaching out to the people who care about me, even when they’re not physically present in my small one-bedroom apartment. The act of cooking becomes a way of reconnecting with my roots, of grounding myself in the love that surrounds me, even in the quiet moments of solitude.

So, take the time to gather these recipes, to write them down, to keep them close. Whether it’s your mother’s famous apple pie, your friend’s go-to pork recipe, or a killer casserole recipe that you discovered on your own, each one is a reminder that you are never truly alone. Allow your recipe collection to be more than just a list of meals. Let it be a physical testament of the enduring power of community and the connections that sustain us, even when we’re cooking for one.

No One Prepared Us for Adult Friendship

~ Brooke F. ~ 4 Comments

Recently, a certain topic has been occupying my thoughts more and more. I have read a few books and listened to a handful of podcasts on it, yet I still feel like it is not discussed nearly enough. I am, of course, talking about friendship. Female friendship specifically.

Right now, we live in a time where dating advice is everywhere. Dating coaches dominate social media feeds, and the internet is overflowing with content about how to attract, keep, or heal from “the one.” Meanwhile, friendship, and the role it plays in shaping our lives, often feels like an afterthought. It is treated as something secondary or assumed, rather than something that also requires intention, care, and understanding.

My interest in this topic has only grown as I have moved through different stages of life. There are particular growing pains that surface when you and your friends make the leap from high school to college. Things become complicated, but not in the dramatic, obvious ways we expect. Instead, the complications are quieter, slower, and often harder to name.

High school friendships are already known for their turbulence. There are obvious highs and lows, and plenty of material there for discussion. Lately, though, what draws my attention most are articles and podcasts that focus on adult friendship. These are conversations led by people who are trying to put language to experiences many of us share, especially those that feel unique to this moment in history. How do you transition from high school to college without losing everyone you care about? Why does it suddenly feel like people are drifting away or ignoring you? Why do your friends start changing in ways that make you wonder whether the friendship can survive at all?

There are also new complications that previous generations did not have to navigate in quite the same way. I have a friend who is a terrible texter, and our friendship has suffered because of long distance. Before the age of phones, this kind of constant but uneven communication was barely possible. Now, silence can feel personal, even when it is not meant to be. We find ourselves living in a unique era for adult friendship, one shaped by technology, mobility, and shifting expectations. That reality fascinates me.

These nuances still feel under-discussed, so I want to share a few of the voices I have been reading and listening to lately that have really fueled my interest in this topic.

First, and easily my favorite, is Alexandra Hayes Robinson. She is a YouTuber who runs an advice column, and she gives friendship the kind of thoughtful attention it deserves. One of her most well-known ideas is the “six besties” theory, which I love so much that I want to briefly recap it here.

The core idea is that different friends play different roles in your life, with varying levels of closeness and responsibility. She talks about a Good-Time Bestie, someone you genuinely enjoy spending time with and can have fun with, but who may not be the person you call during a crisis. She also introduces the North Star Bestie, the friend who plays an active, steady role in your life and who feels safe knowing the deepest parts of you. She goes on to describe coworker besties, people you genuinely like and enjoy within a work environment, even if you rarely see each other outside of professional settings, along with other friendship categories that reflect real adult dynamics.

I appreciate this theory because it helps make sense of how messy adult friendships can look once you leave the structured world of school. Not every friendship has to be all-consuming or lifelong to be meaningful. This framework allows for friendships to shift without immediately jumping to the conclusion that they have failed or must be ended entirely.

I also think this approach helps manage expectations. Not every friend can, or should, meet the same emotional needs. This theory simply gives language to a truth many of us already feel but struggle to articulate. For that reason alone, I highly recommend checking her work out.

Next up is Charlotte Morabito. While I do not watch her content quite as regularly, she has a strong catalog of thoughtful videos on friendship, particularly on the unhealthy mindsets we often cling to that end up creating unnecessary conflict in our relationships.

Just this morning, I watched an excellent video of hers titled “Why You Always Care More Than Your Friends.” What I appreciated most is what the video does not do. She does not default to the familiar narrative of telling you that you are “just such a giver,” while everyone else is lazy, selfish, or simply not worthy of your time. There is no rush to villainize your friends or to encourage cutting people off at the first sign of imbalance.

Instead, she approaches the topic with a more critical and grounded lens, walking through a variety of dynamics that could realistically be at play. One possibility she explores is the idea that you might be trying to prove your friendship to someone by immediately showering them with praise, favors, and attention. While this often comes from a good place, it can quickly become overwhelming and even unhealthy, especially when it is rooted in insecurity or fear of being abandoned.

She also talks about how mismatched expectations can quietly erode friendships. It is possible that you have never clearly communicated what you need from your friends. Maybe they genuinely believe you enjoy planning every outing or initiating every conversation and do not want to step on your toes. In that case, what feels like neglect to you may simply be a misunderstanding on their end.

I really appreciate this framework for discussion because it steers away from accusation and instead encourages self-reflection. It asks people to consider how their own patterns, assumptions, and unspoken expectations might be contributing to the situation or even creating it entirely. If there is one thing that feels universally true, it is that people can get very lost inside their own heads.

Anyway, I have linked the video below if you are interested in checking it out for yourself.

Third up is Psychology with Dr. Ana. She is a licensed psychologist, which brings a slightly different and more scientific perspective to many of the scenarios she discusses, and that is especially true when it comes to her conversations about friendship.

Much of her content centers on the expectations we carry in our heads but never actually communicate to the people around us. She talks about boundaries, the importance of naming your needs, and the thinking patterns that can quietly cause us to get in our own way without us realizing it. Rather than framing these issues as personal failures, she presents them as habits that can be examined and adjusted with awareness and practice.

What I appreciate most is that she manages to cover these topics without slipping into overly polished, holier-than-thou therapy language. Her approach feels accessible and practical, which makes her insights easier to absorb and apply to real-life friendships rather than leaving them stuck in the abstract.

Finally, I read a book. Yes, everyone, I am now an expert.

That said, I will admit it is not as directly related to adult friendship as my previous recommendations. The book focuses specifically on female friendship during middle school and high school. Even so, I found it incredibly relevant. It explores how, as women, our friends often have the ability to wound us more deeply than almost anyone else in our lives, all while leaving us questioning whether we are imagining the hurt in the first place.

A large portion of the book examines female aggression and the subtle ways it tends to be expressed. Rather than overt conflict, it looks at exclusion, silence, passive behavior, and emotional manipulation, patterns that are often dismissed or minimized. While the book is not explicitly about adult friendship, I still think it is an excellent resource for anyone who carries a lot of baggage from past female friendships, or honestly, for anyone at all.

I do not have to tell you that some people do not outgrow the behaviors described in this book. Those patterns can easily follow us into adulthood if they are never named or challenged. Because of that, I also think this book can be useful as a mirror. It gives us the opportunity to check ourselves, to make sure we are saying what we mean, communicating clearly, and having necessary conversations instead of letting resentment quietly build. (See said book below)

IN CONCLUSION…

Friendship is not a static thing we master once and carry effortlessly through life. It changes as we change, shaped by distance, time, technology, and the quiet evolution of who we are becoming. The transition from adolescent friendship to adult friendship can feel disorienting precisely because there are so few clear scripts for it. We are often left trying to interpret silence, shifting priorities, and unmet expectations on our own.

What these books, videos, and conversations have helped me realize is that many of the tensions we experience in friendship are not signs of failure, but signs of growth happening in real time. Adult friendship asks us to be more self-aware, more communicative, and more honest than we were ever required to be before. It challenges us to examine our expectations, our insecurities, and the roles we unconsciously assign to the people we love and probably want to keep around!

If nothing else, I hope this encourages more open conversation around friendship, especially female friendship. It deserves the same thought, care, and nuance we so readily give to romantic relationships. I think this post is probably the beginning of many, as I delve deeper into this topic, so there is likely more to come! Stay tuned!

Your Screentime Problem Isn’t Discipline, It’s Boredom

~ Brooke F. ~ Leave a comment

Or, at least mine is, come to find out. But before I dive into today’s blog post, I just wanted to say hi and recap my last post. I gave you readers a little life update about how I want to commit more time to writing and continue to fight this nasty habit of mine: doomscrolling instead of doing something that actually makes me feel fulfilled. I’ve made numerous posts about this little struggle, which I’m sure is becoming almost universal at this point. Who isn’t trying to lower their screen time these days? Especially when we all know there are tons of more fulfilling things to do.

So that leads me into today’s post, which comes from a few random thoughts I had when I realized that I’d actually managed to lower my screen time lately. To a whole two hours a day! (Cue the round of applause.)

Okay… so maybe it could still be better, but as a self-proclaimed YouTube essay addict, cut me some slack. This is better. But I began to wonder how I managed this over the past month. I’ve made a variety of attempts to lower my screen time with varying degrees of success, so it felt important to pinpoint what strategy finally worked for my life. Why exactly was I able to reduce my screen time this time around? What changed?

The conclusion I arrived at was simple: I needed a hobby.

In my previous blog posts, I’ve described my distant desire to reduce screentime, but I didn’t elaborate much on my strategy for doing so because I assumed it would be as simple as that. I’d decide to be on my phone less, and therefore, I would be. Alas, it doesn’t always pan out that way (hence those varying degrees of success I mentioned).

Turns out sheer willpower is a tough thing to rely on when it comes to breaking a bad habit. You need to fill that empty space with something else. You, or at least I, need something else to occupy your time. I feel a little sheepish typing that out. The conclusion seems obvious, but it wasn’t so obvious to me at first. Certain months, I was terrible about filling my evenings after work, and lo and behold, those were the nights I was most likely to do something… screen-y.

This last month, however, was different. I didn’t plan for it to be different. It just sort of happened. I wanted a book from the library. I wanted to spend more time writing. So I invested time in both. My focus was less on reducing screen time and more on simply doing something else. But it seems that the lack of doomscrolling was a delightful byproduct. And so, my conclusion was made: I need to stop focusing so much on not getting on my phone and instead focus on what hobby sounds fun to dive into on a random weeknight.

This is probably obvious to everyone reading and hardly a novel discovery, but, fool that I am, I didn’t realize until recently that I need more than willpower to kick an overindulging screen habit. I need a hobby. Actually, a few of them.

But if you happen to be in my shoes and are possibly just as dense as me, maybe this post helped you realize that you’re not a weak-willed weenie. You just need to direct your attention toward something else you enjoy. Focus less on not doing something, and more on doing something better for you.

So here’s your gentle reminder for the week: put the phone down, pick something up, and let your hands and mind get busy with life again.

And I think that’s all for now! Byeeee! 🙂

How to Be More Whimsical (Without Moving to a Forest)

~ Brooke F. ~ 6 Comments

Sometimes life feels like a never-ending list of emails and meal-prepping and remembering your passwords. And while that’s all very adult and responsible of us, sometimes you just want to inject a little whimsy into the day. I’m not talking wearing a tutu to work of course (unless you’re into that? Idk where you work). I mean tiny, delightful oddities that make life feel like a storybook for a second.

So here are some specific ways to be more whimsical. Even if you’re a practical person with bills to pay and a Google Calendar that rules your life. Aright, here we gooo:

Start carrying around one overly specific item for no clear reason.
A vintage skeleton key. A feather quill. A deck of cards. Let people ask questions. Refuse to explain. Mystery is 30% of whimsy.

Host a “mismatched tea moment” once a week.
No guests needed. Just you, an oddly paired mug and saucer, maybe a cookie, maybe a journal. Bonus points if you wear a shawl like you’re some mysterious wizard woman.

Leave secret messages for your future self.
Tuck tiny notes into your coat pocket or inside a book you’ll eventually re-read. “You are loved. Also, buy ice cream.” It’s like time-traveling kindness.

Assign your day a genre.
Decide that today is a romantic comedy, or a slow-burn fantasy epic, or a chaotic detective story. Suddenly your coffee run is a plot point, and your bus ride has cinematic tension.

Make a “soundtrack” for your day.
Start your morning with French café jazz, switch to dramatic classical when you do emails, then blast 2000s bops while you make dinner. Be the main character in the most eccentric indie film ever made.

Pick a word of the week and use it dramatically.
Not a normal word. Something like “bewildered” or “henceforth.” Use it in casual conversation.

Choose a random object as your daily talisman.
A marble, a mini pinecone, a button. Carry it like it has secret powers.

Add a secret ingredient to something you cook just because it feels magical.
Nutmeg in your eggs. Rose water in your lemonade. Not because it’s gourmet, but because it feels like a potion. Say “a dash of enchantment” while doing it.

Tell the time like you’re in a fantasy novel.
“It is the second hour past dawn, and I have yet to answer my emails.”
“It is nearly the witching hour—I must fetch snacks.”

Hide something for a stranger to find.
A doodle. A quote. A “congratulations, you found this” note under a library chair or taped to the back of a street sign. It’s low-stakes mischief. Good for the soul.

Rename your calendar events.
Instead of “Dentist Appointment,” call it “Royal Council with the Tooth Kingdom.” Instead of “Grocery Store,” try “Foraging Quest.” Suddenly errands are… thrilling?

Go out dressed like a book character.
Not full cosplay. Just a little nod. A scarf like Miss Marple. Overalls like Anne of Green Gables. Boots like a pirate.

Hopefully these will add a bit of sparkle to your routine!

A Beginner’s Guide to Finishing Stuff (From a Chronic Abandoner of Various Projects)

~ Brooke F. ~ Leave a comment

Hi, my name is Brooke, and I’m a chronic abandoner. Not of people (I promise), but of projects, books, hobbies, that one prom dress I swore I’d make in an attempt to teach myself how to sew… you get the idea I think.

Finishing things has never been my spiritual gift. I’m the queen of a passionate beginnings, you see. I romanticize the planning stage. I make Pinterest boards. I buy cute supplies. I tell at least three people, “I’m so excited about this!” And then somewhere between “this is so fun” and “this is taking longer than I thought,” the energy fizzles out. The end result, I’m sure you can vividly pictures. Shelves of crafting supplies. Half-finished books in word docs galore. A USB stocked with outlines for projects that never quite made it. And not a lot to show for it!

But lately, I’ve been trying something new: actually finishing things. Ok, not everything. But SOME things. Like my poetry book. Like my journals. Like that book series I forgot about. The Prom dress still needs to be hemmed though I’m afraid. We’re not all perfect.

From all this “finishing” going on, I have learned a few things in the process. Disclaimer though, I still have more unfinished projects than finished ones so DEFINITELY take what I say with a pinch-no, a CUP of salt. So! With that disclaimer on the table, let’s get rollin’.

1. Start Smaller Than You Think You Need To

I used to set goals like “write a book,” “learn to quilt,” or “organize my entire life in one weekend.” Funnily enough, these goals would often occur on a late night during the weekend when I was suddenly zapped with ambition. These are not goals. These are lofty, unsustainable, and vague finish lines that realistically take ages to actually cross if ever crossed at all.

Now I aim to “write for 10 minutes,” “sew one line,” or “put away the laundry mountain (just the socks).” Turns out finishing is a lot more achievable when you’re not setting yourself up for theatrical failure. Be realistic and be kind to yourself.

2. Romanticize the Middle

We romanticize beginnings and endings. The start is all fresh notebooks and adrenaline. The end is the glorious Instagram post or the satisfying checkmark. But the middle? That’s where things get boring, awkward, and full of self-doubt.

If you can learn to love the middle and make a vibe out of it, throw on a playlist, light a candle, celebrate the slog, Congrats! You’re halfway there. Progress is still progress, even if nothing is complete just yet. Celebrate more than just the finish-line.

3. Keep a “Done” List

Everyone loves a to-do list, but I’ve started keeping a done list. Every time I finish something (even the tiniest task), I jot it down. Finished a book? On the list. Replied to that one email that’s been haunting me since Tuesday? Absolutely going on the list. Wrote 300 words on a story I’ve been ignoring for months? That’s going in bold and underlined.

There’s something deeply satisfying about seeing all the little wins pile up. It proves that yes, I do finish things, just not always on the dramatic scale I imagined.

4. Stop Waiting to Feel “Ready”

Finishing stuff isn’t about being ready. It’s about deciding to move even when the ending isn’t in sight or planned out. Waiting until I feel motivated has kept me in procrastination purgatory more times than I can count. I’ve learned to accept that I won’t feel like finishing most things but if I just start walking, the motivation catches up eventually.

(Usually after snacks. Snacks are the ultimate motivator.) (And maybe a nap. Naps are important too.) (Honestly, just make sure you’re taking care of your basic needs before you take any of this advice).

5. Embrace the “Imperfectly Done”

Not everything you finish has to be amazing. It just has to be done. The first poem you actually finish might sound weird and cringy. The painting might look better in your head than on canvas. The short story might never get published. But hey! It exists. That’s pretty neat!

AND it’s done. And that’s worth celebrating. You saw it through. You beat the voice that said, “Why bother?”

And with every imperfectly finished thing, you build the muscle. You prove to yourself that you can finish projects. Even if it takes longer than you originally intended (when DOESN’T it???). Even if you abandoned it once and came back weeks later with coffee and renewed determination. Still worth throwing some confetti. Perfection is NOT a prerequisite for appreciation or celebration. (I find myself constantly yelling this at myself mentally).

So here’s your permission slip: Go finish something tiny today. A draft. A to-do item. That sandwich. (Never let a sandwich go unfinished. We eat our crusts around here) You don’t have to be perfect, fast, or even consistent.

You just have to keep going, little by little.

From one recovering abandoner to another, I believe in you.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I gotta go add this finished blog post to my list!!

How to Rebuild an Attention Span

~ Brooke F. ~ Leave a comment

In the digital era, where the currency of our time is measured in fleeting moments and short form content and the ting! of notifications are ever present, the art of focus has become as elusive. Our attention spans have been whittled down to where we can barely settle down long enough to read a paragraph, leaving us scattered and unfulfilled as we leap from tab to tab, app to app, in a never-ending quest for the next dopamine hit. And yet, there are a few of us, who are waking up to the startling effects of a shattered attention span. Though recognizing the problem and fixing it are two totally different issues.

I am far from perfect on this journey to rebuild my attention span. My blog is proof of that. If you’ve kept up with my posts at all, you’ve probably heard my bemoaning my constant struggle to put the phone down. I have been delighted that in the recent year, my efforts have been fruitful. I enjoy reading again. It was a bit of a trick finding the correct genre but it’s also been a consistent effort of mentally yelling at myself when I find myself doom scrolling. But now that I’ve achieved this minor victory, this seems like a good time to impart what little I feel I’ve learned in the process of rebuilding my attention span. It’s been a slow process that will continue to be a struggle in this digital age but the joy of reading cozy mysteries in the evening to wind down for bed has encouraged me to say the least.

So, without any more stalling, here is my tips on rebuilding a scattered, tattered attention span:

1. Rethinking your Night Time Routine

Often what has been motivating me to move further and further away from the short-form content consuming life has been this anxious, awful feeling that I get when I finish scrolling. This feeling was by far the worst at the end of the day where I settled into bed and would find myself scrolling for…who knows what?

I’m winding down, I’d tell myself though, I realize now, that I was winding myself up! Scrolling doesn’t relax you in the same way a book or even a comfort movie might. You still paying attention to too much. And I don’t have to remind anybody that it doesn’t take much scrolling to find some bad news that’s infiltrates your mind and messes with your faith in humanity or the world (if there was much of that left anyway?)

This routine, like any routine, is training your brain. In this case, it’s training your brain to think and continue to think even long after you’re ready to be drifting off to sleep. Replace this habit with something entirely different. If you can’t sit through a regular schmegular book, maybe grab a magazine or a poetry book (or something less intimidating and more short). Try and read in some form. This will train your brain to focus on ONE thing and will better relax you for rest.

2. On a Similar Note, Don’t reach for your phone first thing

Still guilty on this front sometimes. But if you do find yourself reaching for your phone, try and replace scrolling with maybe a quick read of an article you like or a quick WORDLE. When that’s done, get up. Though, I will say, in an ideal world, one wouldn’t be reaching for their phone at all, but baby steps! I think, overall, the goal is to not start your day scrolling.

I eventually want to personally progress towards reading a devotional or something else to start my day. Yaknow, something that doesn’t involve my phone BUT we’ll get there eventually. Just not there yet. It’s nice to have something to wake my brain up with and right now that’s a quick crossword that happens to be on my phone.

3. Set Boundaries

Designate certain times of the day as “sacred,” where you commit to a distraction-free zone. This could be the first hour of your morning (like what I was talking about in the above point), where you greet the day with a cup of tea and a good book, or the final hour before bed, where you bid adieu to the screens and let your brain unwind with a gentle stretch or a page-turning novel. These pockets of time, like stepping stones, will help you cross the river of distraction. Each small pocket of time is training your brain, no matter how small. It builds over time. Remember, your brain is a muscle and becomes stronger with consistency and patterns of thinking and focus.

4. Adjust Your Mindset

Try and pivot your brain into a mono-tasking type of mindset. In a world that glorifies multitasking, this can be almost a rebellious act of sorts. Yet, studies have consistently shown that our brains are not wired to juggle multiple tasks efficiently. Instead, we pay a heavy cognitive tax, switching between tasks with the grace of a clumsy octopus who does everything but none of it well. We forget little things. We’re hardly ever present. Our sense of time degrades. And when it comes time for us to focus on something important, it’s a constant battle to not check and see what else is happening in the world through a screen.

Embrace the beauty of single-tasking. Choose one activity and commit to it fully, giving it your undivided attention. This could mean turning off notifications during work hours, using tools that block distracting websites, or even adopting the Pomodoro Technique, where you dedicate chunks of time to a single task followed by short breaks. As you train your brain to focus on one thing at a time, you’ll find that your productivity (likely) skyrockets and your sense of satisfaction deepens.

One thing I found is when I’m getting ready to go somewhere, the time it takes is nearly cut in half if I’m not using my phone. But, if I’m watching a youtube video while I do my makeup or find myself watching reels while I tie my shoes, these actions take a lot longer and I am moving MUCH slower. And my attention is so scattered, I don’t even realize it till I glance at the time and shoot! Running late again!

5. Practice being still

Next, incorporate mindfulness into your daily routine. This ancient practice has been shown to be a potent antidote to the fragmented attention that plagues our modern lives. Begin with short sessions of meditation, stillness, or deep-breathing exercises, gradually increasing the duration as you become more adept. Mindfulness is not about clearing the mind entirely but rather about becoming aware of the thoughts that flit through it like butterflies in a garden. Observe them without judgment, and gently guide your attention back to the present moment. This mental workout strengthens the muscle of focus, making it easier to resist the sirens of distraction when you need to be productive. It’s like doing push-ups for your prefrontal cortex.

What I personally like to do is sit out on my porch at the end of a day, and just…do nothing. Sit, with my eyes shut and listen to my brain or the birds outside. It steadies me and while, I don’t do it every day, I never regret it when I take the time to do so.

To Conclude…

You’re probably never going to reach this fully “zen”, undistracted state. I’ve had to come to terms with this. It is simply because of the times we live in. Unless you’re interested in becoming a hermit, there is always going to be a slight tug to become distracted again. And giving in sometimes isn’t the end of the world. What I’m really after here are the patterns I’m giving into that is harming my brain in the long term. Not that random scroll I did the other day through pinterest while I was in the waiting room of a Doctor’s Office.

The ultimate goal, at least for me, in doing all these things, is to be present. I want to remember my life and feel deeply. And if I’m bouncing from task to task and never trying anything new or focusing, how is that classified as living?

Anyways, I don’t wanna go too deep with you guys on a random Saturday morning where you were just hunting around for some little tips on how you can better your attention span. So, I’ll see ya’ll later!

I Tried As Many Hobbies as I could In A Week

~ Brooke F. ~ 7 Comments

Growing up, I had so many hobbies I enjoyed. I loved drawing. I loved painting. I loved writing. I rode horses. Did gymnastics. Was briefly on an archery team?? I had so much time and energy—it felt like nothing could stop me. Now, I’m older, with significantly less time on my hands, and what little time I do have is not always spent… wisely.

It’s my phone. The eternal black hole of productivity. On and off, I try to counter this issue, but it’s way too easy to fall back into the habit. It sneaks up on me. One minute, I’m checking one little thing, and the next, I’m horrified by my weekly screen usage report, which is somehow two hours higher than it should be. My goal? Keep my phone use under an hour a day. My reality? A solid three. That adds up to a whopping 1,095 hours a year. That’s 45 entire days.

Wild.

So, in an attempt to reclaim my life from the digital abyss, I decided to try as many hobbies as possible in one week and see how they stack up. My criteria?

  1. How well does it keep me off my phone?
  2. How much do I enjoy it?
  3. Is it something I’d realistically keep doing?

Here’s how it went:

Day 1: Guitar – 5/5

Super easy to pick up. I took lessons for years but stopped when I moved out. I still strum occasionally, but life (aka school and work) got in the way. Now that I have a stable schedule, it’s actually feasible to play again, and I should. It was cathartic pulling out my old music, even if my skills have gotten a little rusty. The only time I reached for my phone was to look up song tabs. A win.

Day 2: Baking – 3/5

I made brownies and a strawberry cake. Baking is a high risk, high reward type of cooking. When you nail it, you feel like a domestic goddess. When you don’t, you’re left with wasted ingredients and existential despair. Also, those 30-minute baking times? Very tempting for a little doomscrolling.

Day 3: Drawing – 4/5

I love making stuff, but I have to be in the mood for drawing. At first, I wasn’t feeling it, but once I got started, I enjoyed it. The tangible result is satisfying, but my inner perfectionist is a menace. Still, solid phone-free time.

Yoga – 5/5

So relaxing. Felt great afterward. No desire to check my phone because I was literally too busy being zen.

Day 4: Running – 4/5

I felt amazing afterward, but actually convincing myself to start? Struggle city. Also, my cardio is tragic. I sounded like a winded cow. But I can see this being rewarding long-term.

Fashion Design – 4/5

A throwback hobby. Very fun and creative, but I didn’t love it as much as I used to. Also, I wish I didn’t despise sewing because that would make this hobby a lot more functional.

Day 5: Journaling – 4/5

I like journaling, but sometimes my brain is just ??? when trying to figure out what to write. Pinterest prompts were a lifesaver. Also, my handwriting is an atrocity, but I powered through.

Graphic Design – 5/5

Worked on page designs for my poetry book and loved it. Canva supremacy. Zero distractions.

Day 6: Reading – 3/5

My attention span is fried, friends. I struggled so hard to focus on what I was reading for longer than 15 minutes. This isn’t the book’s fault. I just need to rewire my brain to focus again.

Crossword Puzzles – 3/5

Fun! Until my brain taps out and I stare at a half-finished puzzle, contemplating my life choices. A clear sign I need more mental workouts.

Day 7: Junk Journaling – 5/5

A top-tier hobby. Relaxing, creative, and sentimental. I collected bits and pieces throughout the week, making it feel like a little time capsule. Highly recommend—but invest in quality glue, or you’ll have regrets.

And there you have it! A week of hobbies, a slight reduction in screen time, and a few activities I might actually stick with. If you’re looking for a way to break free from the phone trap, I highly suggest giving this a go!