Last Tuesday, I put a wash on at 11 am.
I wasn't out of clean clothes. I just couldn't sit still long enough to finish what I was working on. So I got up, sorted the laundry, felt briefly useful, and came back to my desk having done absolutely nothing that mattered.
Before that, I'd opened Instagram twice. I don't even remember why.
I'm 40. I run three businesses. I left a career I spent 15 years building because I wanted something that required everything I had. And on that Tuesday, my brain was negotiating with me, offering me chores, scrolls, anything, just to avoid two hours of concentrated work.
That's when I started paying attention to what was actually happening. Not just to me. To my kids. To the people around me. And the picture wasn't pretty.
THE ONE INSIGHT
Then I looked at my kids.
Not at research papers. Not at some expert on a podcast. At my actual children, in my actual house, on a Saturday afternoon.
"Mum, we're bored."
Ten minutes after the last screen went off. Ten minutes. They couldn't sit with nothing. Not because they're lazy or difficult, they're good kids, but because nothing has ever asked them to. Every quiet moment in their lives has been filled. A phone. A show. A video. Something. Always something.
And I realised I'd done the same thing to myself.
I'd stopped being able to tolerate my own thoughts long enough to do one hard thing. My brain had been trained, by me, by the apps, by the constant available distraction, to expect stimulation every few minutes. When the work got hard, slow, or uncomfortable, I didn't push through. I reached for something easier.
That's not a focus problem. That's an attention economy problem. And the people running that economy are not on your side.
There is research now showing that younger generations are struggling with sustained concentration in ways previous generations didn't. Not because they're less intelligent. Because their attention has been harvested systematically since they were old enough to hold a tablet. And we handed it to them. We thought we were being helpful.
My kids can't entertain themselves for ten minutes. I couldn't finish a paragraph without opening Instagram. We're not that different. We're just at different stages of the same problem.
THE ACTION STEPS
I haven't fully figured this out either. But here's what I've been trying recently, in case it helps.
I time block my work. Specific tasks, specific times, in my calendar. Not a to-do list, an actual appointment with myself. And when I sit down for that block, my phone goes face down on silent until the task is done. Not on do not disturb, where I can still see it light up. Face down. Gone.
That's it. Nothing revolutionary. But it's the only thing that's actually made a difference.
If you want to try something this week, start here:
1. Pick one task tomorrow that needs real concentration. Put it in your calendar like a meeting. 60 minutes minimum.
2. Before you start, put your phone face down and out of arm's reach. Not beside you. Across the room, if you have to.
3. When you feel the urge to get up, check something, or do anything else, and you will, just notice it. Don't fight it dramatically. Just notice it and go back to the work.
That urge you feel? That's your attention trying to escape. The more you sit with it, the weaker it gets.
If this hit home, reply and tell me, are you struggling with this too, or have you found something that actually works? I read every reply.

My latest project…
A few weeks ago, I shared a short book about my weight loss and health journey, and the identity shift that made it possible.
Not the routines or the rules, but the internal changes that had to happen for me to stop cycling and start moving forward. I’m mentioning it here for anyone new, or anyone who wants to understand the deeper work behind sustainable change.
You can find it here if you want to read more.
Before You Go
I’ve been writing these pieces in the quiet, between school runs, work, and late-night thinking, but I’ve started sharing more of the journey in real time too. The reflections, the systems, the messier parts of reinvention that never make it into the newsletter.
If you want to follow along, you’ll find me here:
Come say hi. It’s less about followers, more about finding the others who are doing the invisible work too.
If something in this email made you pause, think, or feel seen, send it to a friend who’s been quietly trying to make a change, too.
You never know what might land at the right moment. Link here.
“You didn't lose your focus. You just stopped defending it.”

