Life feels cluttered, doesn’t it? Between the endless notifications, the pull of the next dopamine hit, and the pressure to have it all figured out, we’re left chasing something we can’t even name. And when the weight of it all presses down, what’s the easiest way out? A drink to take the edge off. A package at your door to remind you that something new is coming.

But what if the edge isn’t meant to be taken off? What if the discomfort is an invitation to sit still and listen? What if the solution isn’t found in a glass or a box, but in the quiet courage to face yourself?

Drink less, think more. Buy less, write more. These words may seem simple, but they hold the weight of a lifestyle shift—a rebellion against the forces that pull us away from who we really are. Let’s break this down.

Drink Less, Think More

Alcohol is seductive. Not because it’s inherently good or bad, but because it’s easy. After a long day, pouring a drink feels like permission to let go. For a moment, it smooths out the rough edges, makes the world quieter, makes you quieter. But here’s the catch: when you numb the discomfort, you also numb the clarity that comes with it.

Thinking is harder. It demands effort, presence, and the courage to face the things you’d rather ignore. But it’s also where growth happens. Every time you reach for a drink instead of sitting with your thoughts, you rob yourself of the chance to understand why you feel the way you do.

This isn’t about quitting entirely—though for some, that might be the right move. It’s about asking the hard questions:

• Am I drinking to celebrate, or to escape?

• What am I avoiding when I pour this drink?

• What would happen if I just… sat with this feeling instead?

Thinking more isn’t glamorous. It’s messy, uncomfortable, and sometimes painful. But it’s also freeing. Clarity doesn’t come in a bottle. It comes in the stillness you’re brave enough to create.

Buy Less, Write More

We live in a world designed to make us feel incomplete. Every ad, every algorithm, every influencer tells you the same thing: you need this to be better. And so you buy. You fill your home, your closet, your cart. For a moment, it feels good. A new pen, a new notebook, a new something to spark the version of yourself you’re always chasing.

But then the box arrives. The high fades. You’re left with one more thing to take care of and the same gnawing emptiness that led you to click “Add to Cart.”

Writing is the opposite. It’s an act of subtraction, not addition. When you write, you’re not buying more; you’re unpacking what’s already there. Every word is a chance to declutter your mind, to sort through the chaos, to say, “This matters, and this doesn’t.”

Think about it: how much time and energy do you spend trying to fill the void with things? And how much clarity could you gain by sitting down with a blank page and asking yourself, “What am I really feeling? What do I actually want?”

Here’s a challenge:

• The next time you’re tempted to buy something, write about it first.

• What are you hoping this thing will give you?

• Is it something you could create for yourself instead?

Writing isn’t just an act of creation; it’s an act of liberation. You don’t need more stuff. You need more space to understand the version of yourself that’s already enough.

Why It Matters

At its core, “Drink less, think more. Buy less, write more,” is about choosing depth over distraction. It’s about rejecting the quick fixes in favor of the slow, steady work of becoming the kind of person you can be proud of.

This isn’t easy. The world will try to pull you back into old habits. It will whisper, “Just one drink. Just one more thing.” But every time you choose clarity over clutter, you’re proving something to yourself: that you’re capable of more than numbing, more than consuming.

When you think more, you start to notice patterns in your life. You notice the relationships that drain you, the routines that don’t serve you, the truths you’ve been avoiding. Thinking is uncomfortable, but it’s also transformative.

When you write more, you begin to take ownership of your story. You’re no longer a passive participant in your life; you’re the author. And the beauty of writing is that it doesn’t have to be perfect. You can be messy, raw, and vulnerable. The act of showing up is what matters.

How to Start

1. Create Boundaries Around Drinking

• Decide ahead of time when you’ll drink and when you won’t.

• Replace your evening drink with a ritual that helps you process your day: a walk, a journal entry, or even just sitting in silence for ten minutes.

2. Track Your Spending Habits

• For one month, write down everything you buy and why you bought it. Look for patterns. What emotions are driving your purchases?

3. Start a Daily Writing Practice

• Commit to writing for five minutes a day. No rules, no judgment—just get your thoughts on paper. Over time, you’ll start to notice themes and insights you didn’t realize were there.

4. Celebrate the Small Wins

• Every time you choose thinking over numbing, writing over consuming, acknowledge it. Progress is built on small, consistent actions.

A Better Way Forward

The world doesn’t need more men numbing themselves with distractions. It needs men who are present, reflective, and courageous enough to face themselves.

When you drink less and think more, you’re choosing clarity. When you buy less and write more, you’re choosing creativity. These aren’t just habits—they’re acts of resistance in a world that wants to keep you disconnected from your own potential.

So start small. Skip the drink tonight. Close the shopping tab. Pick up a pen instead. You might be surprised at what you find waiting for you on the other side.