Practice: Leaving My iPhone at Home
Turns out the Apple Watch might be the dumb phone I’ve been looking for
On Tuesdays, I share long-form reflections on the forces that have stolen our focus. On Thursdays, I keep it short and practical—spotlighting a change I’m trying to make in my own life, why I chose it, what I’ve noticed so far, and where I’m still struggling. In a few months, I’ll follow up to let you know how it’s going.
I’ve tried just about every minimalist phone out there.
Light Phone, Punkt MP02, Light Phone 2, Minimal Phone, Light Phone 3. I have a drawer full of my graveyard of best intentions.
There’s always something that pulls me back to my iPhone. Apple’s ecosystem lock-in is real. My notes, reminders, and contacts are synced. My texts show up in blue. I can track my mom when she’s not answering her phone.
When the Apple Watch Ultra first came out, I gave it a shot. Used it for a little while, then tossed it in a drawer and went back to my analog watch in the name of being less connected.
But lately I’ve been wondering: What if I threw the wrong device in the drawer?
So I pulled the Apple Watch back out, activated the cellular plan, and started leaving my iPhone at home whenever possible.
The Logistics
Most apps on the Apple Watch still rely on a connected iPhone—but the iPhone doesn’t have to be with you. So I leave mine plugged in on the kitchen counter.
I customized the Watch for minimal input:
Notifications limited to phone calls and texts from “favorites”
Apple Music and Pocket Casts for audio
1Password for logins
A custom Shortcut that can play music at home, record a workout, control my smart lights, time tea steeping, and even lock/unlock my car
In short: enough utility to function, but not enough frictionless stimulation to keep me hooked.
The Good
After a month, this setup has worked surprisingly well.
Most days, I ask myself if I really need to bring my phone. Usually, the answer is no. If I do bring it, I often leave it in the car. I love how light my pockets feel.
My headphones connect directly to the Watch. If someone calls, I can answer and handle anything urgent—but I feel ridiculous talking into my wrist while walking through Sprouts, so the calls don’t last long.
I can check my grocery list in Reminders, but I never fall into a scroll-hole. The Watch helps me complete a task, then gets out of the way.
It’s also nudged me back toward carrying my real camera. As a photography hobbyist, this is a huge win. I’m taking better photos—because I’m using a better tool—and I’m not constantly compromising for the quick convenience of a phone snapshot.
The Bad
It’s not perfect.
A lot of apps don’t support WatchOS—my car wash membership, CarPlay, my Eight Sleep mattress pad, even my car’s app (I’m just now noticing how many of these issues are car-related). And I still feel the urge to check messages. If anything, having that portal on my wrist makes the itch stronger. Whatever minimal friction exists in pulling out a phone is now gone.
But the difference is this: the urge stays shallow. I might check a text. But I don’t tumble into a rabbit hole of apps, notifications, and dopamine hits. The watch is naturally limiting in a way that my phone is not.
Where I’m Struggling
The phone still whispers from the counter every time I leave the house. And sometimes I listen.
To help with this, I’ve recruited my kids. Now when they see me reach for my phone, they ask, “Why are you bringing that?” It’s surprisingly effective accountability.
I’ve also started looking into locking cases for my iPhone—just to add one more layer of intentionality before I take it with me.
Would I Recommend This Practice?
I think so. The jury’s still out.
But if you already have a cellular Apple Watch gathering dust, it might be worth seeing what happens when you leave your phone behind. Let me know if you try it.
Thank you for following along, and I’ll see you on Tuesday!