Growing up with access to the internet and a computer in my early teens, I used both mostly for entertainment instead of something proactive.
I quickly learned the art of constantly switching context. In a way, the internet teaches you that boredom is dangerous. It tries to show you that moments without stimulation are moments wasted.
And even though I remained somewhat functional in chasing my own goals, I was still compromised when it came to achieving more than I did.
My browser always had tabs open. Frankly, a lot of these tabs I wouldn’t touch for days, weeks, or longer.
And when I lost them, for whatever reason, it felt like missing out on something essential.
I was flooded by my attempts to do everything at once.
Today, my laptop is only for productive pursuits. It's minimalistic in its applications and layout.
It's used for writing my books, enjoying my work, and developing projects I’ve carried in my head for years.
This shift came from learning one lesson: do one thing at a time.
Truly, step by step.
Multitasking Resistance
I won’t pretend it was easy. I met heavy resistance when I first tried to tame my sporadic mind.
Multitasking is rarely about efficiency. It's more so about having to never meet yourself fully in the moment.
There were many breaking points, crossroads where I’d try to regain control: bookmarking, archiving, ruthlessly closing tabs, downloading every productivity app I could find.
Nothing worked.
I tried writing a book while listening to music with lyrics, while checking emails, while planning my evening. It worked—just not in a way that mattered.
The result? A pile of iCloud notes filled with thoughts I never used. Half-finished books that never saw daylight. A list of ideas that never became real.
It felt like climbing multiple staircases at once. A few steps up one, a rush to another, then another.
By the end of the day, I was exhausted—and hadn’t reached the top of any.
Something had to change. Being busy wasn’t the same as being productive.
I realized: I didn’t need to be productive every moment. I just needed to be truly productive when it mattered.
So I learned to keep chaos where it belonged—and carve order where it was required.
"Being busy wasn’t the same as being productive.
"
Eureka Moment
The shift to single-tasking began when I worked outside my home office. By cutting off internet access, I forced myself to write without distraction.
Chapters I had struggled with suddenly flowed. Words landed on the screen without hesitation.
No social media. No research rabbit holes. No split attention.
Only the work in front of me.
And I began to ask myself:
What if the problem isn’t that you don’t have enough time? What if the problem is that you don’t give enough time to what you’re doing?
Good Image Spot: A screenshot of old me sitting a computer
The Implementation
Owning multiple devices gave me an advantage. I dedicated my laptop only to productive work.
The real enemy is never the technology itself. It's the relationship you have with it.
I hardlocked distractions with StevenBlack’s GitHub host files, blocking social media and entertainment sites. Then I closed every tab that wasn’t aligned with my focus.
I rewired my behavior by preventing the problem before it started.
In the morning, I chose one task. If the project was large, I broke it down. One task, for however long I wanted to work, and nothing else.
If I had somewhere to be later, I used a timer for accountability. A simple Pomodoro: 30 minutes locked into one task.
When the timer went off, I stood, relaxed, and reset the timer. Rinse, repeat.
At first, frustration hit hard. My brain screamed for multitasking. My phone became the weak link.
So I solved it. I bought a plastic lockbox with a keypad.
Before bed, I’d disable notifications, lock my phone away, and leave it until the next afternoon.
By the end of each single-tasking session, I produced more than I ever did when distracted.
And maybe it’s just the way my brain works. It's always restless, always scattered.
But I solved my problem. And it works.
The Outcome
Every day, I leave satisfied with the work I’ve done.
No second-guessing. I tried. I finished.
And I enjoyed the process.
Tasks no longer feel fragmented. They feel whole.
A pomodoro timer isn't a tool for productivity; it's a trigger for commitment.
A plastic box to hide your phone isn't to remove temptation. It's to create more room for your mind to encounter avoided thoughts.
These small decisions have made my quality soar.
The goal became clearer. Actions are more intentional. Problems untangled themselves:
Mental juggling is exhausting. One step at a time lifts that weight.
Even boring tasks became interesting. Being fully present is the key to a better quality of life, in my honest opinion.
When the task becomes integrated within you, it is no longer just an item to check off. You become the task, the task becomes you.
Progress became tangible.
Feeling busy without results had tricked my brain into thinking I was productive. But motion isn’t always the same as progress.
Instead, each finished task created momentum for the next.
Step after step, slowly, steadily.
One-Step Systemization
Now, I don’t just single-task. I systematize my single tasks into easy-flowing habits. I learn over time to make the right choices more often.
Tasks don't feel like obstacles any longer. They feel like opportunities.
Writing with a focused mind is a meditation.
Reading is a communion between minds.
Mundane work is an opportunity to practice presence.
I changed my mornings to be for the most difficult creative work: writing, strategy, and development.
Afternoons handle the rest: helping family, managing household responsibilities, or other less important business tasks.
Each task receives my full attention. It all begins with one step.
Forget the rest. Do the one thing. The process carries you to the next.
I only do what matters to me, what's helpful to others, and what feels like fun.
Any sense of being behind, being inadequate, dissolves. A mind permitted to flow in sustained focus creates insights that a sporadic mind cannot access.
Solutions come as the task progresses, not from more inputs but from a deeper understanding of the foundation.
The only real challenge to productivity doesn't come from external distraction anymore. It comes from the resistance inside.
Your brain and body will rebel. They’ve been trained for constant stimulation.
The goal switched, no purpose to being a productivity machine. The purpose is to be present in life so much so that you no longer need to escape it.
Why It Works
Focusing on one task isn’t a hack. It’s simply the right set of conditions for the brain to work at its best.
Attention is consciousness. Consciousness, in a very direct way, is life itself. When attention is scattered, our life is scattered.
Your phone, your computer are not just devices. Moments missed while multitasking are moments lost from the most important things, whatever they may be to you.
Second chances are simply not present. There is no overdoing. The moment, the task, the breath, and the thought are the only ones you will have.
Focus isn't optimization. It's giving credit to your attention, which is sacred. And giving your attention to unimportant things becomes your life.
Presence or absence is the choice. Missing life or inhabiting it deeply.
Here are some real reasons to focus on a single task:
This isn’t fighting biology. It’s reprogramming conditioning.
Single-tasking is working with your body, not against it.
I'm a champion for more experiences, but I’ve learned the goal isn’t doing more.
It’s doing fewer things, more wholly.
Life isn’t guaranteed.
But these moments in which our life unfolds are gifted. And what you do with them is what matters most.
Your First Step
If you can relate to anything I shared, start simply.
Tomorrow morning, try not to reach for your phone. To do so, put it in another room, hidden away on airplane mode.
Wake up how you like, and sit for a little while with your thoughts. No input, no output. Just see what happens, don't meditate.
Let consciousness rise, unmediated, uncalled for.
There will be an urge to escape, to do something. A subtle discomfort without stimulation, there might be nothing worth witnessing, observing, or finding.
Five, ten minutes. This discomfort is your guide to presence. The fear is guarding your deeper mind.
With this, you will find something more valuable than productivity, your conscious ability to fully live and be alive in your own life.
Living in distraction is still your life. But a life where the moments are neglected is a life that might be missing additional depth.
Figure out the most important task for the day, and set a twenty-minute timer. Work as if time does not exist.
(Obviously, not everyone has the privilege to work from home or work on their projects. But I'm sure you can find ten minutes to do something you've been putting off.)
Experience what it's like to start and continue; to go from starting everything and ending it, to starting one thing and continuing, day in, day out.
That’s all. One step is all it takes. Take another if you wish.
I used to think productivity meant speed and consumption. Now I know it means doing one thing, completely.
"The staircase of my life was always there. I just had to learn to climb it one step at a time.
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