Stimulation Deprivation

From The Artist’s Way’s ‘Reading Deprivation’ Challenge

I’ve been reading and working through The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron—a 12-week program designed to help you access your creativity and overcome limitations. I’ve tried to do the program at least three times in the last few years, but have always given up after a week or so. Now, I’m a month in and getting more out of it than I anticipated.

In my current week four of twelve, Julia assigns seven days of what she calls “reading deprivation”. It’s exactly what it sounds like: a week of no reading. The Artist’s Way is from the 90s and thus focuses on removing books and newspapers from one’s daily life—in 2026, there is a whole lot more one would have to remove to complete this challenge in good faith. I’ve been calling it stimulation deprivation, and have excised from my life podcasts, audiobooks, print books, all forms of news, email newsletters, and social media. No more “casually” checking Facebook or LinkedIn or Reddit, no scrolling through Substack, no looking up facts on the internet. No reading.

If you shuddered at the thought of cutting out reading, podcasts, emails and social media for a week—me, too. In fact, when I first read the chapter introducing the deprivation challenge, my immediate reaction was to reassure myself that I would skip it. I had wanted to start a new book and catch up on my podcasts from the holidays, and what if there was something I needed to know from one of the dozens of emails I receive every day? What would I do during all of my hours driving or walking the dogs? What would happen if I didn’t have anything to read?

Then I got curious: what would happen if I deprived my brain of all of the hours of mental stimulation I’ve become accustomed to? What would I think about? How would I feel? What could I accomplish?

And so, I committed to the fullest extent I could think of. I made a list of all the things I use to distract myself from life (see above) and made another list of things I wanted to or could do instead. Seven days? No problem.

It’s been easier than I thought it would be. Turns out, if you deprive yourself of your typical forms of stimulation, you end up doing one of two things: something else or nothing at all. Sometimes, nothing at all is exactly what is needed. Boredom is welcome, here.

A “bored” child will end up creating a new world or game if the adults in their life are able to refrain for but a few minutes from pacifying them with something stimulating. Boredom breeds creativity, as they say, and it’s true: if you are always mentally stimulated, there is little space for creativity or intuitive clarity to come through. A little boredom does the trick almost instantly, if you can muscle your way through the mental resistance that initially comes with removing a stimulus.

What comes after the mental resistance will be different for everyone.

For me, instead of reading or listening to content in every crevice of my days, I wrote. I did coloring pages and made candles and went roller skating. I walked my neighborhood without podcasts, noticed things I don’t usually notice, listened to old music, discovered new albums. I lay on the couch and stared out the window. I declutterred and reorganized. I meditated and had good conversations and strangely vivid dreams. I let my mind wander. I felt more clear.

Was it worth it? Absolutely. I’m sure I’ll get back to my 47-hour-long queue of podcasts eventually. I’m certainly ready to pick up a book. But to have experienced so fully the benefit of removing excess content has solidified my desire to incorporate stimulation deprivation more regularly into my routine.

The kind of life I desire is one free from the confines of someone else’s content. It is rich with real-world experiences, fueled by in-person conversations, and motivated by intuitive clarity. It is not a life spent overstimulated.

You, too, can free yourself from the trap of compulsively ingesting mental stimulants.

Be a little bored, why don’t you. Be curious enough to find out what’s on the other side.

Maggie