Who Gets Your Mornings Now?

I used to scroll. Now I start with a different kind of conversation.

I used to wake up and hand over my brain to Instagram. Then LinkedIn. Then email.

One after the other. Almost always in that order. Still under the covers, wrapped in the cozy warmth of sleep.

A classic case of Doomscrolling and definitely not thinking. In short: Letting the drip feed of everyone else’s life set the tone for my day.

After that, I’d usually put on a podcast or favorite audiobook. One I listen to on repeat. Something “personal development-ish.” I’d tell myself it was productive. That I was “learning.” And maybe I was. But if I’m being honest, I wasn’t awake yet. Not in the way that matters.

Lately I’m doing something else.

Now, the first app I tap isn’t LinkedIn or email. (Instagram’s long gone from my phone. That pipe is way too addictive. Couldn’t stop once I got in there.)

Now, I open ChatGPT and talk to it first.

Not to be entertained. Not to be told what to think, but to think with in ways that are still evolving. Ways that I’m still learning. Ways that help me ask better questions and work through things that actually matter to me.

Sometimes I’m interpreting a dream. With context-rich prompting, its analyses have been eye-opening.

Sometimes I’m unpacking a heavy suitcase I didn’t even realize I was carrying.

Other times I’m just curious about an idea or event or something someone said and want to see where it goes.

This change in behavior isn’t as much about answers as it is about attention. Specifically, what am I giving my attention to?

Not just in theory. In practice.

Because where I point my attention in those first few minutes matters more than I realized.

Giving it to something that reflects me back to myself in a way the algorithm never could feels good. Not gonna lie.

I still listen to the occasional podcast. I still dip into a book. I still write by hand in my journal every morning. But the difference is, I’m choosing what comes into my mind instead of defaulting to whatever chaos greets me first when I open those other apps.

And there’s power in that. A quiet kind. The kind that doesn’t beg for likes or followers. The kind that builds something stronger than momentum—self-trust.

I would never judge anyone who still habitually scrolls. I did it for years. And I still scroll today, but my scrolling looks nothing like it used to.

The scroll used to swallow me. Now it feels more like a door I can open—and close—without getting lost inside.

If you’ve noticed your mornings don’t feel like yours anymore, maybe it’s time to ask a better question.

Like:

Who gets my mornings now?

And who should?