Manhattans top my list of cocktails. I like the dark and broody flavor. I like that it punches you in the back of the throat, leaving you dazed and mellow.
It’s a contemplative drink, the Manhattan. A drink you can lose your thoughts in, melting away into memories, even if only for a second or two.
Lately, though, I’ve noticed my thinking time has all but dried up. Sure, I can blame the usual stuff—days filled with errands, corporate to-do’s, and parenting. But that’s life. And those aren’t the reasons I don’t have time. It’s because I fill all my time with noise.
Messages, podcasts, music, emails, group chats, Tweets, insta stories, cheap headlines and cheaper news, half-read feature articles, nonsensical threads, and angry comments. There’s always something to consume. And lately, I’ve found myself consuming too much, too often.
I think it stems from becoming a parent—when you’re conditioned to maximize free time.
Once that little human plops into your lap, your life gets unceremoniously sliced like a deli ham into finite chunks of time. No longer do you have the privilege of long, meandering days with no plans and fewer expectations. Life becomes a rolling thunder of segmented time slots and chaos organized around feeding times, naps, bedtime routines, and playdates.
So if you’re a restless person like me, you aim to maximize any free time you get. This means I cram as much into my quiet hours as I can. I tackle the work I find the most fulfilling: writing and creating. But it’s busy work and over time this builds into a habit. I can’t sit still. I can’t think still. There’s always this gravitational pull toward productivity.
The downside is there’s no space for thinking. No space for space.
And so when I’m up late at night, enjoying the quiet time to myself out on the balcony overlooking the bay, I’m glued to my phone like a well-hammered nail. Opening apps and closing them, watching clips, and listening to podcast interviews while reading and skimming news stories that I’ll forget a few swipes later.
Distractions abound.
Not a moment for thought.
Or ideas.
Just a rushed hour or two that never feels like a break.
So I decided to try something tonight. At the end of another long week, I deleted all my social apps, my email app, and internet browsers, too. I deleted them all in the hopes of stillness.
Now, when I open my phone, there’s nothing there to pull me away from the moment.
There’s nothing but this island cigarillo and a crisp lager. Nothing but sunscreened skin and eyes searching for shooting stars while the speaker plays 90s nostalgia. Nothing but my ideas and my thoughts.
Nothing but me and a few hundred words.
… Because you didn’t think I was just gonna sit here, did you?
Clever! Love it 🌟