January gave me a gift I didn’t quite expect.
I stepped away for an extended holiday — no client commitments, no meetings, no flight delays or deadlines. Just space. But it wasn’t simply a vacation; it was a social experiment for me. Over the past few years, I’ve watched the boundaries between my work life, volunteer life and my play life blur into something unrecognizable. I love what I do, but I could feel the constant hum of “always on” creeping into every corner of my day.
So, I tried something bold (at least for me): I took my work email off my phone.
Not muted. Not tucked into a folder. Gone.
And here’s what surprised me most, something inside me fell back into place.
Without the ping of an incoming message dictating my attention, I found myself making intentional decisions about when to work and when to relax and enjoy. If I chose to open my laptop, it was because I meant to; not because a notification hijacked my focus. When I worked, I was sharper. When I rested, the time was truly restorative. The mental static quieted. My shoulders dropped. My mind unclenched. My creativity felt more alive.
Three weeks back into the office, and I still haven’t reinstalled email on my phone. There have been a few minor inconveniences. Moments when I had to wait to find contact information or recognize that a few hours to respond would be just fine. But the wins have far outweighed the challenges. I feel more grounded, more present, and more in control of my own attention than I have in some time.
And it’s made me think about our profession more broadly.
We are seeing unprecedented levels of burnout, exhaustion, and reactive behavior. Too many of us are living in a cycle of responding rather than leading, reacting rather than choosing. We’re moving fast, but not always with purpose. And when everything feels urgent, nothing truly gets the space it deserves.
Intentionality is not a luxury. It’s a restorative practice.
It’s the difference between being pulled through your day or walking through it with clarity. It’s the difference between exhaustion and energy, between noise and meaning. And it doesn’t require a sabbatical or a plane ticket, just a willingness to pause and ask:
What do I want to give my attention to right now? What deserves my time, and what simply distracts me?
Maybe for you it’s turning off notifications. Maybe it’s blocking time for deep work. Maybe it’s reclaiming your lunch hour or choosing one evening a week that belongs entirely to you. Maybe it’s saying no to something that drains you, or yes to something that fills you back up and brings you more joy in your role.
Intentionality isn’t about doing less; it’s about doing what matters with more presence and less noise.
As we settle into February, a month that often feels like a sprint after January’s re-entry, I encourage you to consider where a bit of intentionality might restore you. Where could you create a boundary that protects your energy? Where could you design your day rather than react to it? Where could you choose, rather than be pulled?
I didn’t expect the simple change of removing email from my phone to shift so much. But it did. And it reminded me that small acts of intentionality can create big openings for clarity, calm, and purpose.
