I built a tool to transcribe income WhatsApp voice notes, and it’s awesome. It’s one of my first vibe-coded tools and the main tool that has daily, practical benefit for me.

I used to get a lot of voice notes. All the time. It’s easier for folks to voice note than write out their thoughts, so I get it. Yet, I was often in situations where I couldn’t actually listen to these voice notes. I whipped this tool up (before Meta enabled their client-side transcribe function which is a hit or miss) using the Baileys framework. It runs locally on my machine, monitors for incoming voice messages, sends them to the cloud for transcription and summarization, and then sends both back to me.

Now, let’s put aside the obvious security implications—I’m effectively obviating the point of an encrypted protocol by intercepting the messages myself. For me personally, the convenience is worth the security trade-off.

The real negative of the tool, however, is what gets lost in translation. Case in point: I recently received a voice message where the tone conveyed a completely different meaning than the text of the transcript or the summary. It was far more beneficial to hear that voice note, even at 2x speed, than it was to just rely on the text. I know sentiment analysis exists, and screenplays have dealt with translating paper to a cinematic format for ages, but voice is another layer of communication for human beings. Text just doesn’t cut it.

Human beings rely on so many cues. FaceTime was groundbreaking when it first came out with the iPhone 4 release, but even it doesn’t hit the mark for me. You need the gestures, the way someone shifts in their seat, the intonation of their voice, how loud or soft they are, or how they say nothing at all. All of it communicates so much.

I remember reading somewhere that Zoom calls are so tiring because your brain is constantly and tirelessly looking for those extra signals of connection that are so natural in person. Because you’re on a screen, you can’t get them, but your brain exhausts itself trying. To me, that makes perfect sense. I can be in multiple in-person meetings and not feel nearly as tired as I do after a single Zoom session.

This extends to remote work culture. Some companies just use Slack and calls, while others try to replicate a virtual office with persistent rooms you can join. I find that somewhat invasive, like someone is looking over your shoulder the entire time. Even with the camera off, I freak out that I might accidentally unmute myself or that someone will walk into my room and I’ll suddenly be exposed. I don’t feel like I have control over my space or my privacy.

In addition, creative work requires you to get into a flow state, to have uninterrupted time. I turn off notifications for most of my apps, especially ticket-driving ones like Jira or Trello or Front. I don’t know how people deal with the constant pings, just like an inbox where the number keeps going up—one, two, three, four, five. It creates so much unnecessary anxiety about what you haven’t gotten to and what you have to do next. It’s so overwhelming.

We need the sanctity and safety to get away from our coworkers, but in an always-online environment, we’re all expected to respond quicker. It seems like everyone has the ability to interrupt you with any notification at any time.

A few years back, I remember distinctly this moment, being in Death Valley with friends, gazing up at the stars, when I got a call from a friend telling me his father was going to die soon. I couldn’t be in the moment. And to be honest, my cell phone shouldn’t have been on. What would have been wrong if I had responded a few hours later? Why do we need this immediacy?

All these apps are constantly vying for our attention. Just one more click, one more like, and we feed their algorithms and someone else’s curiosity. I’m guilty of this, too, wondering why someone hasn’t responded to my text after a couple of hours. How did I create that same expectation for myself and others? It wasn’t always like this.

These devices are hijacking our minds and creating anxiety. We need a notification diet. One of my favorite things is switching the action button on my iPhone to “Do Not Disturb.” One click, and I know my phone won’t buzz. I need that ability to just turn everything off.

I do think we can (and should) fight back in gentle (and more forceful) ways. My way is turning off notifications, responding on my own schedule, taking intentional breaks, and eating without a screen. I try to communicate in person first, then by phone call, then voice note, and only then text.

This is also why I love backpacking and why I keep going: I’m always chasing a feeling I had in my second time to Wyoming. We had an easy day, so I just sat in my chair, took off my shoes, and let my feet touch the grass. I remember just observing the details: the bright, verdant blades of grass, the undisturbed blue sky, the flowers swaying slightly. The weather was pristine. And for a moment, my brain quieted down. There was no cell signal. I couldn’t escape the moment. That was my moment. And it was so damn beautiful.

Mindfulness experts say you can achieve this in daily life. I believe that. As a Muslim, I pray five times a day, and we have the concept of khushu—an intentional focus on God. You train yourself to concentrate your thoughts, because distraction is inherent in the human mind. In a world that’s constantly stealing our attention, it’s so important that we claim these moments for ourselves.

So I’m telling myself in the mirror: How do I grasp on to the moment?

Sometimes I calm my nervous system just by touching my wife’s shoulder or getting an intense hug from a friend. Those moments of touch can interrupt the never-ending flow of anxious thoughts. I can push back.

I’m trying, slowly, to win back my attention, to win back my intentionality, to set my boundaries clearly so that I can be still. The chaos of the world will never go away, so I have to live in the moment. As one of my favorite writers, Oliver Burkeman says in Four Thousand Weeks, you only get this time. Don’t let another notification take you away from yourself.

If you have any other tips, send me an email. I’d love to hear them.