TYLER’S JOURNAL | ISSUE #3

Hey,

I watched something disturbing yesterday.

I was at a coffee shop working when a group of guys about your age walked in. For 45 straight minutes, not a single one of them looked up from their phones except to order.

Even when they spoke to each other, their eyes stayed glued to the screens.

It wasn't just sad. It was fucking terrifying.

These weren't men having a conversation. They were digital hostages taking occasional breaks to acknowledge the physical world.

Here's what they don't understand: Your attention isn't just something you give, it's the most valuable resource you possess.

While those guys were scrolling through feeds engineered by billion-dollar companies to hijack their focus, I watched one man sit alone at a corner table, notebook open, completely absorbed in writing. No phone in sight.

The difference in their energy was palpable. The group seemed drained, scattered, restless. The man writing radiated focus, presence, and calm intensity.

I've spent the last three years studying the neurochemistry of attention, and what I've learned should alarm you:

Every time you reach for your phone during a moment of slight boredom or discomfort, you're rewiring your brain to crave constant stimulation. You're teaching your neural pathways that focus is optional and distraction is the default.

Modern society has normalized a state of constant distraction that would have been considered a serious attention disorder 20 years ago.

Ask yourself honestly: When was the last time you spent three consecutive hours in deep focus on something meaningful? Not multitasking. Not with notifications enabled. Just pure, uninterrupted concentration.

Can't remember? That's the problem.

Your ability to direct and sustain attention will determine your future more than almost any other factor.

Start reclaiming it today. Begin with this: Tomorrow morning, leave your phone off until noon. Feel the withdrawal. Sit with the discomfort. Let your mind remember what it feels like to be truly present.

Your capacity for deep focus is like a muscle, it atrophies without use but strengthens with resistance.

Which man do you want to be? The one mechanically scrolling, or the one creating with focused intention?

Tell me how it goes. I read everything you send.

— Tyler