We live in a culture addicted to upgrades. Every device, every app, every system comes with a promise: this one will finally make life easier, smoother, better. But here’s the catch—newer doesn’t always mean better. I’ve learned that lesson the hard way, especially living with ADHD, where the pull of the shiny new thing can feel irresistible. The truth is, most of the time, what I already have works just fine—if I stick with it.

Every week, it seems, there’s another update.

Another app.

Another system promising to make me faster, smarter, calmer, more productive.

And here’s the truth: with ADHD, my brain lights up at the possibility of new. The marketing folks know this—slap “new and improved” on anything, and I’m already leaning forward.

A better note-taking app.

A new task manager.

The latest phone has a camera that makes my last one feel obsolete.

I can convince myself in five minutes flat that I need it. This will finally be the solution to my messy focus, my scattered attention, and my productivity woes.

Except, it almost never is.

The Allure of New

New feels exciting.

New feels like hope.

New whispers that if I adopt it, I’ll become the version of myself I imagine—the guy with zero unread emails, a flawless morning routine, and a perfectly organized life.

But here’s the paradox: I’ve had systems that worked beautifully. I’ve had routines that grounded me. And yet, I’ve ditched them in the rush toward the shiny new option.

Not because they stopped working.

But because I got restless.

The Marketer’s Game

Companies know how to hook us.

They make the familiar suddenly look inadequate.

Your phone is fine—until you see the commercial that makes it look like a dinosaur. Your notebook works perfectly—until you hear about the app that syncs across 12 devices.

We’re trained to believe that updates equal progress. That new equals better.

But it’s a lie.

Sometimes, new is just different.

And sometimes, new is actually worse—more complicated, more distracting, less stable.

What Actually Works

Here’s what I’ve had to learn the hard way: the tool doesn’t make the difference.

The practice does.

Writing my morning pages works whether it’s in a $1 notebook or the fanciest digital journaling app.

Planning my day works whether I use OmniFocus or a yellow legal pad.

The thing that moves me forward isn’t the update. It’s the habit.

And the most powerful habit of all? Sticking with what already works.

ADHD, Restlessness, and Enough

Living with ADHD means I often feel like I need to “fix” my brain. I chase the next thing because it feels like control. But what I’ve learned is that real progress doesn’t come from hopping from tool to tool—it comes from consistency.

Instead of asking, “What’s new?”

I’ve started asking, “What’s working?”

That one question changes everything.

Because if it’s working, why am I throwing it away for something unproven? Why am I choosing distraction over momentum?

The Courage to Stay

Here’s the truth that marketers won’t tell you:

Better isn’t always newer. And newer isn’t always better.

Sometimes the real courage isn’t in upgrading. It’s staying.

Staying with the tool that works.

Staying with the system you’ve already built.

Staying with the practice that’s boring but effective.

The new thing promises the world, but the old thing—if it’s working—delivers results.

Closing Reflection

So here’s my challenge—for you, and for me.

Before you download that app or order that device, pause.

Ask yourself: Is what I already have working?

If the answer is yes, close the tab.

Pick up your notebook.

Open your current app.

Stay the course.

Because progress isn’t about chasing the shiny new.

It’s about honoring the tools, the habits, and the choices that already make your life better.

New doesn’t always mean better. Sometimes, better is right in front of you.