I used to be a casual fan of The New York Times Games, but now they’ve become a cornerstone of my daily routine. A few days ago, I was checking my screen time and realized that most of my phone usage was, frankly, brain rot. Don’t get me wrong—you will have to pry my Instagram stalk time out of my cold, dead hands—but it was time to get off the Reels and do something that actually challenged my mind.
I’ve tried the whole “wake up and read the news” routine. Subscribing to newsletters sounded great in theory, and while I do love being informed, I needed something that still gave me a little dopamine hit.
Enter: The New York Times Games.
I started playing Wordle sophomore year of high school and kept up with it here and there. But the real obsession started with Connections. I played it occasionally, but the other day I downloaded the NYT Games app—and everything changed. Now, instead of waking up and immediately diving into the quick hits of social media, I start with 16 words and four color-coded groups. It’s simple, satisfying and just hard enough to make me think before I scroll.
What surprised me was how this tiny shift in my morning routine made me more aware of how much of my day is soaked in comparison. Everyone loves to say “comparison is the thief of joy” or “don’t compare yourself to others,” but let’s be real—it’s so freaking hard. From my Instagram feed to the slightly obsessive LinkedIn stalking I do more than I’d like to admit, it often feels like every post is whispering, “look how much better I am than you.”
I don’t think people mean to send that message—but they’re not posting their bathroom breakdowns or rejection emails either. We’ve all been trained to show the highlight reel, and even though I know that, it still gets to me. I find myself asking ChatGPT if I’m doing “enough,” or if my writing is even worth a read (I can feel my editor’s eye roll through the screen).
As someone who wants to work in media—whether that’s writing for a magazine or building brand strategy—keeping up with trends almost feels like a requirement. I feel like I have to be online. I have to be posting. I have to be creating something. Now, every scroll through LinkedIn becomes a mental audit of my life: Should I be doing more? Should I be applying for this? Why am I not already there?
But the truth is that I don’t need to be plugged in every minute of the day. My 20 to 30 minutes of NYT Games gives me a pocket of calm that still feels productive—without tying my self-worth to it. It’s a small win, detached from the pressure of performance.
I love the things I do—writing articles, taking photos, working on creative projects; that drive is part of who I am. But I’m learning that I can’t live to work. I need space in my day that’s just for me. Sometimes, I need the kick in the butt to get moving. Other times, I need to remind myself it’s okay to close the laptop, go for a walk, get a workout in or pick up a book that makes me think about something other than my career path.
To most people, The New York Times Games might just be, well, games. But for me, they’ve become a quiet break from the noise. It is a way to start the day with curiosity instead of comparison. It is also a reminder that not everything has to be optimized, monetized or shared. (Funny that this experience got turned into an article #working on it).
I still love my ambition. But I’m learning that not everything needs to be a hustle. Some things—like a word game and a little silence—can just be mine.Â