It is 6:30 AM, and I’m sitting on a beach just outside of Mulegé, watching the sunrise over the bay. The water is calm, the air still, and despite there being several other campers nearby, it’s completely silent. Instead of checking my phone after I wake as usual, I’ve chosen to come outside and witness this moment directly.

This is what I came to Baja for. Not what’s on my screen.

Yet even here, in one of the most beautiful places I’ve visited, I find myself battling a familiar adversary: the constant pull of digital distraction. Yesterday, while waiting for race trucks to pass during the Loreto 500, I caught myself mindlessly scrolling through social media during the 10-15 minute gaps between vehicles. Even as I did it, I recognized what was happening – I was reaching for distraction simply because sitting with nothing to do felt uncomfortable.

The Distraction Compulsion

Why do we feel this need for near-constant input? What am I even looking for when I scroll? Am I just trying to avoid being alone with my thoughts?

This habit follows me everywhere. I grab my phone when I wake up before my wife and immediately check email, even though my inbox consists almost entirely of newsletters and ads these days. While some newsletters are enjoyable, do I really need to consume them immediately upon waking? Absolutely not.

I understand the appeal. Life contains many repetitive moments, and our devices offer endless novelty with minimal effort. It takes energy and focus to be bored enough to look for novelty in your actual surroundings. This seeking seems baked into our DNA – this need to keep looking for something that isn’t right in front of us.

It’s becoming increasingly difficult to find quiet – both in our environments and in our minds. I’ve noticed hikers bringing speakers on trails, the ever-present urge to check phones hundreds of times daily, and my own reflexive reaching for digital stimulation during moments of boredom or uncertainty.

The irony isn’t lost on me. These moments sitting on a beach watching the sunrise are the real moments – and they aren’t found on my phone, despite the best efforts of my former technology colleagues who worked so hard to capture our attention.

A Moment of Clarity

While listening to Tim Ferriss’ podcast interview with Craig Mod, something clicked. Craig mentioned how he writes thousands of words daily and doesn’t check his phone until after lunch. He takes long walks without music, instead taking notes while walking. It made me realize that when I reach for distraction through social media or email, I’m wasting potential.

The challenge is determining when digital tools serve a purpose versus when they become a trap. I’ve experienced this tension repeatedly in Baja. Yesterday, I legitimately needed information about the Loreto 500 race route and timing - information that was primarily available through social media. That’s the useful side of these platforms.

But there’s a slippery slope. I start with a specific purpose - researching campgrounds, checking weather forecasts, or finding race details - and before I know it, I’m an hour deep into scrolling through Reddit posts or YouTube videos completely unrelated to my original intent. The digital environment is deliberately designed this way; keeping us engaged is literally their business model. The line between purposeful use and mindless consumption blurs so easily, often before we even realize what’s happening.

The Alternative Experience

The contrast between my different morning experiences here in Baja has been illuminating. One morning, I took my paddle board out at sunrise on the calm waters of the bay. It was quiet and peaceful, with only occasional bird calls or fish splashing. I paddled to a small island half a mile from our campsite, discovering a reef teeming with life. This was a far better way to start my day than checking my phone or opening my laptop.

In those quiet moments on the water, the rest of the world doesn’t feel like it exists. Whatever is happening with the stock market or our latest political crisis seems irrelevant. There is just the beach, the water, and the birds. I can’t say this is a bad life.

But we were never designed to have all the world’s information at our fingertips. On the surface, this seems beneficial. In reality, we can’t do much about most global events. Knowing about them doesn’t satisfy our human need to react – we respond by getting upset and angry. Without a channel to direct that anger, we’re left with constant low-grade anxiety and discomfort.

Finding Balance

I’m working on replacing unconscious digital consumption with more intentional activities. When removing a bad habit, it’s always easier to introduce a compensating good habit. This could be writing, reading, meditating, or listening to Spanish lessons.

Controlling your information diet isn’t just about starving yourself of content, as when on a backcountry hiking trip. You need to monitor how engaged you are with the outside world regardless of where you are. The pull of content is real. The need to know what’s happening is deeply ingrained in our human history.

I don’t think using these products occasionally is terrible – downtime has its place. The problematic behavior is reaching for distraction devices simply because I’m bored. I still check my email on my phone whenever I’m waiting for something, for no good reason. I really want to stop this.

Perhaps the antidote is more early morning sunrise paddleboard sessions. Being present for the actual moment unfolding before me, rather than the endless stream of moments happening elsewhere. After all, that’s what I traveled all this way to experience.