Clearing the Digital Noise: What Happened When I Deleted One App

“We have to save Mom. What else can we do?” I asked my brother desperately. “Is there another spiritual practice we haven’t tried? Something else we can take on? Tell me what I can do that I haven’t already done.”

This happened about a week ago. Mom had another doctor’s appointment, and once again, I was painfully aware that only abundant Heavenly mercy could help us.

On the other end of the line, my brother sounded calm. Then, quietly, he said two words: “Your smartphone.”

Immediately, a whole list of objections started racing through my mind.

All the Reasons I Thought I Needed My Smartphone

Here is a partial list:

1. I’m not addicted to screens. I just need to be available.
2. This isn’t entertainment. I need my phone for work.
3. A lot of what I do to help others requires me to be connected. I’m an “important” person.
4. Other people get addicted to screens. I dealt with that years ago when I left social media. Now I’m balanced.
5. My brother has taken religion too far. He’ll come to his senses eventually.
6. I’m a person with values.
7. Being connected helps me get things done more efficiently.
8. I’m not like those young people glued to their screens for hours. I just check important messages during breaks.
9. My smartphone actually helps me be a working mother who is present for her children. I can get work done while still being home with them.
10. This is simply how life works today. Everyone is connected. You can’t function in the modern world without it.

But let’s go back to that conversation with my brother. Usually, I’m very good at being my own defense attorney. This time, though, I surprised myself by staying silent. All 10 objections were there in my head, but I didn’t say a single one out loud.

At that moment, I was willing to do anything to save our mother’s life. And what is difficult is deeply valued in Heaven.

So before I could change my mind or tell myself I would do it tomorrow, I deleted one of the apps that had been stealing far too much of my time. I did it right there, while I was still on the road.

For months, I had been waking up in the morning thinking: What? Again? I watched another pointless video last night? Not only was it eating up precious time I didn’t have, but I knew that what I was watching often had nothing to do with the values I wanted to live by.

And here’s the surprising part: I haven’t missed the app for a second.

It feels like switching off a noisy appliance you had grown so used to hearing that you didn’t even realize how loud it was. Suddenly, there is quiet. A calm, healthy kind of quiet.

Then My Friends Started Doing It Too

I shared what I had done with some friends, mostly because I wanted a little encouragement. I never imagined the response it would trigger. One after another, friends began telling me that they, too, had decided to clear some of the digital noise from their lives.

Some wrote:

“Galit, please bless my daughter with success and blessing as she starts school.”

“Inspired by you, I deleted two social media apps from my phone.”

“More power to you! Since I removed social media and other harmful things from my phone, my soul has found peace. There is so much noise there!”

“Because of you, I did it too.”

What Changed When I Cleared Away the Digital Noise?

1. Bus rides are quiet again.

How someone with attention difficulties like mine managed to keep adding even more noise to her life, I have no idea. I no longer check my phone every few seconds to see what’s new. In fact, I barely take it out of my bag.

Instead, I take out a siddur, Tehillim, or a book. Sometimes I simply think or look out the window. Even the Petah Tikva market looks more pastoral since I made this change. No offense to the market, of course.

2. I get much more done at home, and I’m calmer while doing it.

I can now see how much the constant distractions from my phone were affecting my concentration and peace of mind.

Folding laundry used to take far longer than it needed to because, without even realizing it, I would stop repeatedly to check messages for the hundredth time.

3. I can ask my kids to put down their screens without feeling like a hypocrite.

I used to think it was enough that I didn’t eat in front of a screen and that my children would naturally learn from the example of their educational, authoritative, and noble mother. But how could I ask them to cut back when I was constantly checking my own phone?

I had convinced myself that I barely used screens compared to everyone else, but if I wanted them to change, I had to be part of that change too. And baruch Hashem, it worked for them as well.

I told them honestly that I was cutting back because I wanted a better life, more time with them, and more enjoyment of my time at home. Honesty is a powerful educational tool.

4. I suddenly have time to read and learn.

Me? Reading a book on a weekday afternoon, not just on Shabbat?

Apparently, I did have time for all those things I was always saying I “never had time” for. I just hadn’t realized where that time was going.

5. We experienced a series of unexpected miracles.

Good things began happening from directions we never expected. Things we thought would never happen again began to happen, and paths that had seemed completely blocked suddenly opened.

When the timing is so close, it is hard not to see the connection. Thank Hashem.

I Thought I Was Giving Something Up

Since that conversation with my brother, I’ve realized that he wasn’t really asking me to give something up. No one was asking me to make some enormous sacrifice.

In fact, I was the one who had been losing something without realizing it.

My brother was simply asking me to take back what the screen had quietly stolen from me: the quality of life I wanted.

Today, when I think back to that desperate question, “What else can we do?” I realize that the answer wasn’t another complicated spiritual practice or some huge commitment. It only seemed huge in my mind.

The change itself was small and simple: Let the phone leave me alone.

Then see what happens when there is finally enough space for real life to come back in.

May we all merit a good, clean year, connected to the things that truly matter.