Jesse Itzler - Living with the Monks: What Turning Off My Phone Taught Me about Happiness, Gratitude, and Focus

Dinga text alert goes off.

I open my eyes. And with a glance, I check to make sure my wife, Sara, is still sleeping. Check.

Its still dark out, and the only illumination in our bedroom is my glowing phone.

Carefully I roll over to my right side and reach toward the nightstand to find it.

I need two tickets to the Hawks game tonightthe text says.

I got youI text back.

As I sink back into bed I pull the covers over my head to eliminate the brightness of my phone. I dont want to wake Sara. I quickly refresh my email to see whats come in my inbox during the five hours I was sleepingtoo many. I swipe it away. I check the time. Its 4:53 a.m. I have to get up because I have a workout appointment in seven minutes. SEAL, the man who kicked my ass and lived with my family for thirty-one days, is at my house. And the rule is: If SEAL is at my home, were working out.

Two minutes later I check my email againnothing new.

I swing my legs off the bed and quietly place both of my feet on the rug. My wifes still sleeping. I slip my phone into the pocket of my shorts and throw on the T-shirt thats balled up on the floor. I tiptoe out of our bedroom into the long hallway. All four of my children are fast asleep as I pass each of their bedrooms. When I reach the top of the stairs I hear another ding.

I manage to respond to the text as I walk down the steps and simultaneously fire off two emails before getting to the bottom of the stairs. I enter the living room and have one eye on my phone and the other on something SEAL is doing. Hes fussing with the remote trying to turn the television off. He cant figure out which button to press. Hes mad at the remote and looking at it like its a Rubiks Cube.

I fire off one more email as he spots me.

Its 4:58 a.m. so Im early.

What the fuck is that? SEAL asks, staring at my hand.

This? Oh, its a phone.

SEAL takes one more glance at the remote and now decides hes no longer pissed at the controller; hes now pissed at me. I can tell hes getting annoyedVERY annoyed. Hes staring at me stone faced. Hes not movinglike at all. For a second I think hes playing some wacked out version of freeze tag in his head. Hes as still as a statue.

After about thirty seconds of just staring at me he snaps out of it.

Its like he was never still.

Oh, its a phone, he mimics like a three-year-old teasing his big brother. Oh, its a phone.

He inches closer to mein my face. Im not sure why hes so livid.

What did I do? It is in fact a phone. Right?

You dont think I know what a phone is, Jesse? I USE PHONES MOTHERFUCKER. I just used one yesterday. I know a phone when I see one. Oh, its a phone, he says a third time as he bends down to lace up his running sneakers.

Im very sorry, I say, trying to make peace. I just thought

I KNOW WHAT A PHONE IS, JESSE.

I try to craft an apology in my head. Im not sure why, but I feel like I truly owe him one.

Sorry, I say again. I just thought you asked me whats in my han

Jesse, are you committed?

Im confused. Im not sure where hes going with this.

LET ME SAVE YOU SOME TIME MOTHERFUCKER, he says. Youre NOT.

Huh?

Im sorry, comes out of my mouth a third time.

You and that damn phone, he says. You need to clear your mind, Jesse. To be committed.

Hes so angry that one could mistake his committed to mean sending me off to a mental institution. But Im pretty sure hes talking about making a commitmentto myself. And maybe hes right. I do need to unplug. But unplugging is only half of a fixI need to plug into something elsesomething bigger than myself; a 180, to get uncomfortable again, a self-imposed time-out and find a growth opportunity. SEAL helped me get physically fit and sharpen my mental toughness. But now I need something thatll help me quiet my mind and create a new kind of edge.

I look back, and SEAL is already holding the front door open for me.