20 Minutes, One Pen, Zero Notifications: Reclaiming My Brain, One Page at a Time

Biljana Todic
May 1
4 min read

I opened Instagram to check one thing—one thing!—and 45 minutes later, I somehow knew everything about medieval pigeon armor. (Yes, that’s a real thing, and yes, I have questions.) That was the moment I realized: I’ve officially reached peak information overload.

Between back-to-back meetings at work and the digital avalanche of hot takes, memes, and unsolicited reels, my brain was fried. I’d come home with every intention of being creative… and instead morph into a couch potato scrolling through TikToks of people reorganizing their fridge. Again.

And it hit me: This can’t be it. Surely, there’s another way to exist. A quieter, weirder, more creativity-filled way.

So, I issued myself a challenge:What would happen if I gave my brain just 20 minutes—no phone, no pressure, just a pen and a blank page?

The Doomscroll Detox Rules (grab your pen!):

🚫 No phone (airplane mode or banished to another dimension—aka the sock drawer)
✒️ One pen only (because too many options = existential crisis)
⏰ 20 minutes, no pressure to make it “good”
🧠 Write whatever weirdness comes to mind
🎨 Bonus round: if feeling brave, another 20 minutes of doodling

I’d been itching to start a short-form comic for ages, but always felt too drained to begin. This felt like the perfect, low-stakes opening.

The First Session:

Let me be honest—the first few minutes felt like being on a first date with my own brain. Awkward. Unsure. Slightly sweaty. But I had a rough story idea, so I started with a quick brainstorm and a messy outline. That helped loosen things up. Then came the brain dump writing. Stream-of-consciousness style, no filter, no inner critic allowed.

Most sessions were split: 20 minutes writing, 20 minutes doodling. I used my trusty notebook—my "sketchbook companion"—which already held ideas for paintings, color recipes, symbolic dreams, and whatever else my subconscious coughs up after too much cheese.

Any time my mind started to wander (which it did), I reminded myself: “It’s just 20 minutes. You can scroll after.” Spoiler: I didn’t want to scroll after. The more I did it, the faster the time flew, and shockingly... I was enjoying myself. I was creating. Plotting. Playing. My brain was doing something other than absorbing the internet like a soggy sponge.

We are natural creators, not just consumers. But somewhere between the invention of WiFi and the endless dopamine drip of social media, we started outsourcing our imagination. What we got in return? A loneliness epidemic and an unhealthy obsession with watching strangers live curated lives.

This challenge was my way of fighting back—one pen stroke at a time.

Between February 19 and March 1, I ended up with 14 pages of story in my beloved medium-sized Moleskine. Just me, my favorite pen, and zero expectations. I threw in some doodles too—nothing fancy, just little visual side quests from my brain.

I didn’t care if it was good. I didn’t care if anyone would ever read it. I wrote like I was writing in my journal. For me. Unfiltered, unpolished, and totally unplugged.

Pen and notebook — The only materials I used: A notebook and a favorite pen :)

The Surprising Benefits

I started this as a way to trick my brain into not doomscrolling. What I didn’t expect was... actual results.

💡 Mental clarity: Not only was I finally working on that story I’d been dodging for months, but new ideas started popping up like unsolicited browser tabs. Except this time, I was excited to open them. I was thinking, “Maybe I’ll start another story next week?” Who am I?

🎨 Creative spark: Somewhere between the doodles and the plot outlines, I started imagining how I might illustrate the comic. That’s right—this simple little analog creativity experiment accidentally threw more creative gasoline on the fire. (In a good way.)

🌈 Mood boost: Less stress. More satisfaction. Zero comparison with strangers who somehow own 17 matching linen sets and a beach house. Win-win-win.

👁️ Increased presence: Real life started feeling less... fuzzy. I wasn’t just passively consuming—I was actively creating. And there’s something wildly grounding about doing something for yourself, just because you can.

Call it mindfulness. Call it a digital detox. Call it "me-time with ink." Whatever it is, it worked.

Tips for Trying It Yourself

Want to reclaim your own brain for a few glorious scroll-free minutes? Here’s how to start your own analog rebellion:

⏱ Set a timer: 20 minutes is enough. You can survive without your phone. I believe in you.

🖊 Use your “meh” pen: No pressure to make a masterpiece. Or go the opposite route—grab that fancy pen someone gave you that you’ve been “saving for something special.” Newsflash: this is the "something special".

📝 Start with a prompt: Not sure what to write or draw? Try: