How it works
A small companion that mostly stays quiet. Here is the whole of it.
You download it. That’s the whole setup.
No account, no email, no signup. It is a single quiet download for your Mac. Open it once and it starts running on its own, tucked in your menu bar. There is nothing to configure and nothing to tend.
You allow it to notice your rhythm, and you write one promise.
It asks once to notice the rhythm of your day, how long you have been at it and whether you are here. It never asks to read what you write.
Then you finish one sentence in your own words, like “when I’ve had a heavy afternoon, I’ll walk to the corner and back.” That promise is yours. It stays on your machine.
Then it goes quiet, for days.
The first week is meant to feel like nothing happened, because nothing should. It is not waiting to talk. It is learning the shape of your weeks in the background, saying nothing at all.
A presence that stays quiet through a hard week is earning the one thing it eventually says.
You can see it is alive, and see what it sees.
A small window sits in the corner and breathes. On calm weeks it thins almost to nothing. As heavy days stack up it gathers, like weather. You feel your own week in the corner of your eye before it ever speaks a word.
Open “what I’m seeing” any time and it shows you the handful of things it holds, and the longer list of things it never touches.
Rarely, at a natural pause, it says one thing.
After days of real pattern, never mid task, it wells up for about ten seconds and hands your own promise back to you.
“You said, after a heavy afternoon, walk to the corner and back. It’s been one of those. The light holds forty more minutes.”
One line. Then you tap it, or you let it pass. It never follows up, never keeps score, never nags. It goes quiet again.
You are always in charge, and it lets go without a fight.
You can make it quieter or more present with one slider, change your promise, or quit it entirely, all from behind the icon. It will not guilt you, chase you, or ask you to stay.
A companion whose whole job is to want less of your attention should be easy to set down.
What it reads, and what it never reads.
- It reads when you work, never what you write.
- A single sentence about the rhythm of your week is the only thing that ever leaves your machine. It is a handful of coarse counts, never a word you typed, a page you read, a file you opened, or a person you messaged.
- It forgets. Your patterns are kept about two weeks, then dropped.
- Its whole job is to stay quiet. It speaks maybe once a day, or not at all.