I Tried “Monk Mode” For 45 Days After Reading the Book

You know what? I didn’t plan to love this book. I picked it up on a tired Sunday. My head was full of screens and half-done tasks. The cover said “Monk Mode,” and I rolled my eyes a bit. But I read it anyway. Then I tried it. And things changed. Not magic. But real.

Why I Reached For It

I work from home, and my phone chirps like a needy bird. I write reviews, answer emails, edit drafts, then somehow end up scrolling videos of tiny cakes and pet raccoons. Cute, yes. Helpful, no. Research suggests that intentionally limiting distractions in this way can dramatically boost cognitive performance (the World Economic Forum recently broke down why so-called “monk mode” can supercharge deep work).

On the worst procrastination days, I even caught myself hovering over the browser bar, ready to click into local classified hubs just to kill time. If curiosity ever leads you down a similar rabbit hole, the detailed listings on Backpage Mount Pleasant show exactly how quickly you can lose 30 minutes scrolling random ads—checking it once makes the distraction trap crystal-clear so you’ll be extra motivated to silence those tabs when it’s time for deep work.

The book promised focus. Simple rules. A set time. Less noise. I wanted that. I also wanted my brain back.

What The Book Teaches (In Plain Talk)

The book’s idea is simple:

Pick a short window. The book says 21, 30, or 90 days.
Set clear daily rules. The rules must be easy to check.
Do your key work first. No phone. No news. No fluff.
Move your body. Sleep well. Eat like a grown-up.
Track it every day. Miss a day? Note it, then keep going.

It’s direct. No fluff. A bit firm, but not mean. I liked that it felt human. It even said, “You will slip. Get back on.”

My Rules (Stolen From The Book, Tweaked By Me)

I chose 45 days. That felt strong but not wild. Here were my rules:

Two deep work blocks, 60 minutes each, before noon. I used a cheap white kitchen timer.
Phone in the kitchen drawer from 8 a.m. to noon. Ringer off. No exceptions.
No social apps on weekdays. I deleted two and used Freedom to block the rest.
Walk after lunch. Twenty minutes. No headphones the first ten, then music if I want.
Bed by 10:30 p.m., screens off by 10. Not perfect, but close.
One page of notes at night: wins, misses, mood.

Small note: I kept coffee. The book nudged me to cut it. I tried. My head hurt like a drum. So I kept it, just one cup.

Real Life: Week-by-Week

Days 1–3: My thumb kept reaching for my phone. The drawer sat there like a dare. I wrote on sticky notes instead. I finished a draft I’d pushed for 2 weeks. My brain felt foggy, but proud.
Day 5: I timed a 60-minute block and wrote 1,100 words. Not perfect words, but real ones. I used Notion to mark “done.” That little green check felt like a candy.
Day 9: I messed up. Opened Instagram “just for a sec.” Lost 40 minutes to smoothie videos. I wrote “Noon slip. Back on” in my notebook and did a second walk. It helped.
Day 12: I did a call at 8 a.m. by mistake. It broke my focus. The book says protect mornings like a guard dog. I moved my call to 1 p.m. the next week. That one change saved me.
Day 18: Mini crisis. Family stuff. My morning block fell apart. I did a shorter 30-minute block at 7 p.m. It wasn’t pretty, but I kept the chain.
Day 24: I hit flow. No music. Just the tapping of keys and a peach candle my sister gave me. Funny what the nose can do.
Day 31: I took notes by hand. My page had coffee rings and doodles. It felt like proof. Real life on paper.
Day 37: I tried a “walk with a question.” I asked, “What is the headline?” By the fifth block, the title for a client piece popped up. I said it out loud like a weirdo. It stuck.
Day 45: Final day. I didn’t want it to end. That shocked me.

What Worked For Me

Two morning blocks beat one long block. I’m human. I tire. A small break plus water did more than a third coffee.
Phone in the drawer was the best rule. Out of sight, out of mind. Simple, strong.
Night notes kept me honest. I wrote “Tired but steady” more than once.
Walks gave me ideas. Silence first, then music. I used the Forest app on some days to stay off my phone.
Clear start time. Mine was 8 a.m. sharp. A timer, not a vibe.

Sometimes, though, you still need to keep a chat window open for urgent pings from a client or teammate. For those moments, the ultra-minimal Instant Chat Black interface keeps the conversation accessible while its dark, notification-light setup stays out of your peripheral vision so you can stick to deep work.

What Didn’t Land (Or Needed Tweaks)

The “no coffee” push. Bold ask. Not for me. One cup was fine.
The book favored long fasts and cold showers. I tried both. I felt itchy and mad. I swapped in plain water and warm showers. Still got results.
The tone got a bit strict in parts. Like I was in a boot camp. I liked the tough love—but I had to be kind to myself too.

Little Things That Helped More Than I Thought

A silly rule: no phone before sunlight touched the kitchen floor. I live in a small place. That moment is clear.
A glass of water on my desk when I sat down. Sounds basic. Works.
One song on loop for focus days. “Weightless” by Marconi Union. Quiet, airy, steady.
Friday “admin sprint.” Bills, email, tiny tasks. I kept it to 45 minutes so it wouldn’t spread.

Need proof that seemingly tiny tweaks can make or break a challenge? Check out this 30-day Monk Mode breakdown of what worked, flopped, and ultimately stuck for another perspective.

A Quick Digression (That Still Matters)

I bought new socks. Stay with me. My old ones slid in my sneakers on walks, and I’d cut the walk short. New socks fixed that. It’s funny—small frictions slow the whole plan. The book talks about this in a more formal way. Remove friction. Make good choices easy. Socks count.

How My Work Changed

I wrote more first drafts. Messy, but done.
Edits felt calmer. My brain wasn’t split in ten.
I said “no” to morning calls. That tiny boundary paid rent.
I made fewer typos. Less rush.
I felt less “jangly” by 3 p.m. That’s my word for it. Jangly.

It turns out my experience lines up with what Forbes found about ‘monk mode’ leading to measurable productivity jumps.

Who Should Read This

You juggle too much and hate your phone a little.
Your mornings vanish, and you don’t know where they go.
You want rules that fit real life, not a monastery.
You like checklists and also like mercy.

If you need soft structure with clear steps, this book hits the mark. If you want hacks without effort, you’ll be mad at it. It asks for sweat. Not a ton, but some.
Bonus resource: the checklists over at Monkify pair perfectly with Monk Mode if you need an extra nudge.

Tips I Wish I Had On Day 1

Set your start time and guard it.
Put your phone far away, not face down. Distance matters.
Keep a physical log. Pens don’t ping.
Plan meals the night before if you can. A simple egg wrap beat my snack chaos.
Be nice to yourself on bad days. Start small, keep going.

The Bottom Line

I thought I’d hate Monk Mode. I didn’t. I loved the quiet. I loved the clear lines. The book gave me a simple frame I could bend to fit my life. I worked better, slept better, and felt more steady. Not perfect. Just better.

Score: 4.5 out of 5. I’ll do another 30-day run next month ([here’s how my first 30-day experiment played out](