01

After a night of insomnia, I usually don't force myself to keep working.

I stop, clear my mind, then listen to the voice inside and have a quiet conversation with it.

Last night, when I settled down, I sensed an inner restlessness. So I just went ahead and did something — I uninstalled Claude from both my phone and tablet.

02

It wasn't out of frustration, and there was no ceremony to it.

I just vaguely felt that it had taken up too much of the time I could have spent in stillness.

Every little thought that popped up, I'd run to chat with it. And unless I deliberately asked it to summarize or manually saved things to my notes, nothing really stuck.

The truth is, a person generates roughly 6,000 to over 10,000 thoughts a day. "Is this title good enough?" "What should I eat today?" "What do I do if I can't sleep?" "Am I understanding this correctly?"

If every single thought needs an AI conversation, it's genuinely exhausting. I felt that fatigue in my bones.

After uninstalling, since I've really grown to love quietness lately, I put on some soft music and started folding clothes.

Winter coats folded one by one, comforters too — zipped up and tucked into the back of the closet. There was a small tear on the side of my buckwheat pillow, and husks kept leaking out, one grain at a time. I found a needle and thread, carefully stitched along the seam, tied a knot, and snipped the thread.

The whole thing took less than 5 minutes, but I did it with complete focus.

Nearly an hour passed before I realized my body had already relaxed. Not the "trying hard to relax" kind of feeling — I was genuinely at ease.

03

When I went to the doctor about my insomnia, she told me to spend more time around wood, flowers, and grass. Just step away from work for a bit, she said. Don't stay immersed in it all the time. When your mind is wound too tight, sleep naturally suffers.

I knew she was right.

That's just who I am — once I start something, I dive in deep and can barely pull myself out.

But last night, after folding the clothes and sewing the pillow, I realized that the art of stepping away is something you can practice.

It doesn't need to be deliberate. Just put your hands on something else, and your body will figure out how to let go on its own.

I've always taken sleep seriously. A bad night's sleep turns me into an uncalibrated instrument the next day — quick to snap, quick to stress, quick to blow small things out of proportion. Efficiency goes without saying — the whole person just runs on low.

So last night, after sewing the pillow and folding the last piece of clothing, I took a hot shower, turned off the lights, got into bed, and fell asleep quickly.

04

After uninstalling, life took on a different texture.

Today, I picked up my phone far fewer times. And when I did, it was almost always to jot something down in Notion. Writing topics kept bubbling up in my mind, one after another. I saved them to my idea bank without rushing to discuss them with AI. I just let them sit and ferment. By around 10 AM, the frameworks had already formed in my head — then I wrote, revised, and published.

That feeling is like composting. Toss the materials in, close the lid, and let it slowly turn into nourishment on its own.

At breakfast, I ladled a bowl of millet porridge, sat by the window, and caught the scent of the rice. I can't remember the last time I truly noticed that smell.

So here's my decision: no more Claude on my phone or tablet. If a question comes up, I write it down first. When it's work time, then I ask. And you'll find that outside of work, there really aren't that many necessary, serious things to ask AI about. After a full day of this, I discovered that in my free moments, life without AI feels lighter than life with it — like I returned something to myself.

05

AI is incredible, no doubt. Many people say "ask AI about everything." I agree — you can ask AI about everything. But for things that aren't urgent, there's no need to rush.

Those ideas that just started sprouting in your mind — let them sit for a while. Wait for the right moment, then use the tools to sort them out. Ideas need a little time to develop. Throwing them at AI too early sometimes flattens them before they can grow.

People need some time that goes unanswered.

Quietly folding a piece of clothing, sewing up a small tear, listening to porridge bubbling in a clay pot, sitting with eyes closed in meditation — none of these things produce any output. But they make me feel whole again. Go for a walk, and then — good night.