It started when I could no longer do things that once came naturally.

I used to be able to sit and read books for hours. I could think deeply. I could stay fully engaged in a conversation. I could work on something difficult without constantly switching contexts. I could sit quietly with my own thoughts.

Then, gradually, something changed.

I found myself unable to read more than a few pages. I constantly felt the urge to check my phone. I struggled to stay focused on work that mattered. Creative writing got harder. My thinking became fragmented. Even workouts were interrupted by the urge to reach for stimulation. Conversations became harder to stay present in. Silence felt uncomfortable. Boredom felt unbearable. It constantly felt like I was missing out on something.

I thought it was a discipline problem. It wasn't.

For a long time I blamed myself. I assumed I'd lost my motivation, my willpower, my edge. But the harder I tried to force my way back through sheer effort, the more clearly I could see that effort wasn't the issue. Something underneath had shifted.

That realization sent me into a deep study of attention, distraction, technology, psychology, neuroscience, behavioral science, identity, habits, emotional regulation, purpose, and meaning. Books became the starting point of a much larger investigation:

• Deep Work and Digital Minimalism — Cal Newport
• Stolen Focus — Johann Hari
• Atomic Habits — James Clear
• Flow — Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi
• Breaking the Habit of Being Yourself — Joe Dispenza
• Man's Search for Meaning — Viktor Frankl

The deeper I went, the clearer it became: I didn't have a discipline problem, a motivation problem, or a productivity problem. I had an attention problem — and so do a great many people who blame themselves for the same things.

Attention Science is where I document that journey — and build the path back, in the open, for anyone who needs it.