As the mother to three school-age children, I’m grateful that I’m able to work fully online – and flexibly. I write poetry that I share on Instagram, essays for Substack (with hand-drawn illustrations) and I launch online courses and run a writers’ membership. But it means I spend a lot of time online, and I’m increasingly aware of how I’m modelling screen time to my children who are 12, nine and six.
Also, I worry that it’s affecting my sleep. I’ve had people I follow on Instagram pop up in my dreams after late-night scrolling, which doesn’t feel right.
I needed to bring myself more fully back into the real world. So, I decided to commit to two weeks with vastly reduced screen time. I would replace internet research with walking out in nature. Early morning phone-checking with five minutes in the garden: looking at the sky, listening to the birds, putting my bare feet on the earth. I didn’t want to check my phone until after 9am, when I was at my work desk, but I do find that most of my creative ideas drop in during the first few hours of the day, so I kept a reMarkable Paper Pure to hand and used it to make notes, write poetry and draw.
On the first morning of my experiment, I was drawing and annotating a book idea I’d had in the night. It turns out that not checking your phone right before bed and reading a novel instead helps new ideas to form. My son came to peek over my shoulder. He saw what I was doing, disappeared and returned soon after with a piece of paper and a pen. He sat next to me and drew, rather than asking to go on his screen, as he might normally. The textured glass display mimics real paper, matching the natural room light, rather than giving out the blue light emitted by other screens. Maybe this is why my son accepted that I was drawing rather than seeing it as a screen I was locked into. Also, it sounds (and feels) like you’re writing or drawing on textured paper. Except that with a quick double-tap, you can erase a mistake and try again. A digital rubber.
When it was time to start work, I opened my laptop to write an essay but nothing was coming. Sitting at a desk with a blank page open in front of me doesn’t stimulate me, creatively. Instead, I need to be out walking. The physical movement cracks open my mind and new ideas begin to flow. It’s my thinking time. However, I do need a way to capture those ideas. Usually, I’d dictate my thoughts into the Notes app on my phone but I’m then inevitably distracted by messages pinging up and social media apps that I could be checking.
So, to help reduce my screen time, I’ve started taking the paper tablet with me instead, as it fits in my handbag and there’s a digital pen attached magnetically to the side.
I love that I was asked whether I’m left or right-handed in the set-up. I’m a leftie and have never seen this acknowledged on other devices. So often, I’ll accidentally swipe the settings in the toolbar while drawing and it all disappears, especially if I’m out and about. With the reMarkable Paper Pure, I was able to stop walking, sit on a bench or perch on a wall, and comfortably draw and write, leaning my palm on the pad.
Writing ideas out by hand, on the paper tablet, unlocked new parts of my brain. It triggered creativity in ways I wasn’t expecting. For instance, my drawings became more detailed, because I could easily edit them rather than having to start again if I made a mistake. I created folders for the different parts of my work such as “poetry”, “Substack”, “courses”, “membership” and filed new ideas that landed when I was out walking in these respective digital folders. When I was back at my desk, I was able to look through all my notes rather than pulling out a new notebook and losing my last to-do list.
I was starting to feel like my life and career were becoming more organised, which was freeing up mental space for creativity. Even the meals I was cooking became more interesting, as I had the mental clarity to plan a veggie curry, using whole foods, rather than just opting for pasta, yet again. While cooking, I didn’t listen to a podcast, I let thoughts swirl around. I enjoyed mono-tasking. It made me realise how often I’m engaging too many of my senses at one time. I’ll be cooking, which engages smell, taste and touch, while also listening to music or a podcast and sporadically picking up my phone to quickly scroll on Instagram. It felt good to reduce this. Also, I really don’t need to know what strangers are doing while I’m whipping up a daal for our dinner. It’s enough to be cooking and thinking, in my kitchen, before gathering around the table with my family.
I’m increasingly keen to implement healthy screen use for my children and I noticed that the less time I had on my own devices, the less time they expected on theirs. Before bed we were having longer, deeper conversations and reading more books, because I wasn’t looking at whichever boring conversation had popped up in the class WhatsApp. In fact, I archived all group chats during this time, to reduce the messages lighting up my phone. But if a new idea landed, just before bed, I could quickly doodle it out on the paper tablet. I felt calmer and more present during my experiment, but also less guilty. Letting screen-use seep into so many moments in my life, especially when I’m around other people, doesn’t feel good. The shame can spiral into anxiety. So cutting back made a palpable difference.
I feel like I claimed back several parts of my life that had been stolen by screens.
Find out more about replacing your notes and printed documents with a digital notebook that feels like paper at remarkable.com
Also, I worry that it’s affecting my sleep. I’ve had people I follow on Instagram pop up in my dreams after late-night scrolling, which doesn’t feel right.
This report is published with credit to theguardian.com. Full available text from the wire is above. Read on theguardian.com →
Source: theguardian.com · Annie Ridout. Published 2 Sept 2026, 09:28 am.
