A Room of My Own 1 weeks ago

My One-Board Trello Task Management System

So I just came out of a project management webinar — and they shared this really simple task-management method. And I realized that I’ve basically been doing this all along. It’s about moving away from constantly trying to prioritise everything to simply postponing things in a deliberate, thought-out way. And it felt nice to see that this thing I pieced together is,  a “real” method. After years of trying to figure out how to manage all my different tasks, I came up with a system a few years ago that has just worked. I haven’t had to change it in ages. I’ve tried different apps, different methods, different everything — but this setup (which I run in Trello, though you could do it anywhere that has Kanban boards) has stuck. Why Trello? Mostly because it’s free, simple, and the phone app works. It sends reminders to my email (which I’ll see because I keep inbox zero) and as phone pop-ups. The email part is key for me — if it hits my inbox, it won’t get lost. Over time this system grew with me, but this is where I’ve landed: one single board . Just one. Below is the breakdown of my lists on this one board (though I do add more when I need to — if I have extra tasks or a project, like planning a trip, spring cleaning, I’ll add a temporary list for it). When a task or a list is done, I delete it. I don’t archive it, I don’t capture it anywhere else. Done and gone. You can email directly into Trello — I rarely do, but I like knowing I could. This list is where I stick generic things: kids’ school holidays, public and work statutory holidays, my goals for the year, and my very loose 5-year “plan” (which is more vibes than plan, honestly). Because I like the Eisenhower Matrix method (I wrote about it here) , I have a few lists that follow that idea: Urgent + important. - Things that actually need to happen pretty soon or right away. That elusive middle ground where all the good long-term things live. I’m honestly terrible at this list lately because work has been so full-on — which is also why my personal projects, like blogging, have been basically nonexistent. But this is where those long-term goals go: things like education, personal skill development, improving health and wellness — all the stuff that matters but always falls behind the “do immediately” tasks, and therefore need to be scheduled. Anything already booked, or anything that repeats: insurance payments, car registration, health appointments, whatever. I put a date on it, set a reminder, and forget about it until it surfaces again. I do this for the whole family. Why not just put it all in my shared (with my husband and son) Google Calendar? Because some things don’t need to be done on the day they pop up. For example: car registration. I set a reminder a month before it’s due. I won’t do it that exact day, but it will pop up, I’ll drag it to “Do Immediately,” and then it gets done. If something goes in Google Calendar, it’s because it happens at an actual fixed time — dinner with a friend, a scheduled doctor’s appointment, whatever. Those don’t go in Trello. This took me a long time to figure out. These are things that don’t need to be done, nothing is riding on them, but they matter (and maybe they shouldn’t) to me. I wrote about some of it here: The Art of Organizing (Things That Don’t Need to Be Organized) The Journal Project I Can’t Quit The Cost of Organizing Ideas – But I Keep Doing It Anyway An example is my digital photo books. I use Mixbook or Shutterfly services, and the kids love having the physical copy of a digital photobooks to leaf through. And so do I. I make ones for big trips too. But then I realised: if those companies disappear, all my digital books vanish. You can’t download them as PDFs or export them in any meaningful way (apart from having the printed copies — but what if my house burns down, or I want another copy?). After researching and asking around, the only real solution seems to be opening them full screen, taking screenshots, and saving them in Day One (link to one of my posts about it). It’s a huge project (well, potentially, once I start working on something and break it down into smaller tasks - it gets done). But I’m not touching it right now. However, having it on the list gets it out of my head. The other lists I have on my board are: I like knowing how much I spend and when things renew. I regularly cancel things. For example, Kindle Unlimited: I sign up when there’s a deal or when I need it, then cancel again. Same with Apple TV — if there’s a show I want, I get it for a month, then drop it. I hate having too many subscriptions that sit there unused. I didn’t put these in recurring tasks because some documents are valid for years or even decades. So I just keep a list. Sometimes I attach the files, but I don’t fully trust Trello with sensitive things, so the actual scanned documents live in my Dropbox. Renovations, things I want to study, photo books I still want to make. These live even further out than the “may or may not do” list. Not urgent, not actionable, probably not happening soon — but I don’t want to forget about them either. And most importantly, I don’t want to think about them. When I do a review, I’ll see them, remember them, and that’s enough. It’s simple. It’s not over-engineered. It’s not automated to death. It’s easy to maintain. And most importantly: things actually get done. My lists used to be huge and chaotic. This isn’t. NOTE: For work tasks I use Microsoft To Do, since it plugs straight into the rest of the Microsoft ecosystem we use.

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A Room of My Own 1 weeks ago

Letting Go of My Library

I recently read a few very interesting articles about personal libraries . Here is one that haunts me about Cormac McCarthy’s huge personal library and his vast, chaotic collection of “stuff”. For as long as I can remember, I’ve loved the idea of having a library of my own. But as I get older, something about it has started to feel unsettling. The thought of being surrounded by piles of things—books, objects, layers of accumulated life—now makes me uneasy. I crave order, clean spaces, and easy living unburdened by stuff. Large empty spaces and shelves call to me. I started collecting books when I was a student. They moved with me between different flats, and at one point I had over a thousand titles. I cherish them all, even the ones I haven’t read, because I agree with whoever said that reading and collecting books are two different hobbies. But as the saying goes, we spend the second half of our lives getting rid of the things we so fervently collected in the first half. I’ve been in that situation for several years now. I moved countries with a large container of stuff, only to realize I could probably have left 90% of it behind and never missed it. In fact, it took me years to slowly get rid of it. I wrote once about decluttering my clothes the Marie Kondo way. I’ve done the same with my house—again and again—until I got to a minimalist look and feel that I was happy with. For the past two years I’ve been in a very high-stress role at work, and sometimes taking care of my house, when everything else feels out of control, is the one thing I can do. I’m well aware of it, but it still leaves me with a nice, clean, minimal home. I live with a non-minimalist husband who, thankfully, gets on board every now and then. If it weren’t for him, it would be even more minimalist. Recently, after another round of spring cleaning, I finally got to my library. I’ve decluttered it many times since moving to New Zealand, but books are easy to come by here. There are lots of secondhand shops in town, and every February/March there’s a beautiful book fair where you can stock up for winter. It’s also easy to donate books, and I’ve been doing that. Still, I had too many. Reading those articles, and realizing I now read most of my books on Kindle, I felt the urge to minimize my library again. My criteria were simple: Get rid of books I’ve read and know I’ll never read again. Get rid of books I haven’t read but know I’ll probably never read. Get rid of books on subjects I’m no longer interested in, or that I could easily borrow from the library or download if I change my mind later. Get rid of novels I’ve saved for years, waiting to read, but never did. Having shelves so full was also stopping me from borrowing (but not buying) new books, because I felt weighed down by all the unread ones sitting at home. So I took all the books down. I got my husband to go through his too. Surprisingly, he got rid of quite a few. It was easier than I expected to minimize my library to the point where it now looks almost empty. People commented that it looks too empty. But I’m not worried. I feel like I can finally breathe. The books were gone in a day—donated, given to friends, or put on the book exchange shelves at work. What’s left are my true favorites, the ones I’ll reread. My husband’s books are breathing now too—he loves Bob Woodward and all kinds of political and spy thrillers, and he actually rereads them, so those stay. The goal isn’t to have no books at all, but to keep only the ones that genuinely matter, and to leave room for new interests when they arrive. So while I still appreciate big libraries—and if this were the 90s or early 2000s, when we didn’t have Kindles and books were harder or more expensive to get, I might still keep one—right now, a lighter library just feels better. There are still a few hundred books on my shelves (and I’ll admit to owning a set of about 50 nearly-new hardcover classics I picked up at an auction for $15. They’re currently sitting in the attic, waiting for some imaginary future where we have space to display them purely for decoration, because I doubt I’ll read them again). But my shelves can finally breathe, and so can I. I can happily pick up a book, flip through it, enjoy the moment, and put it back down—without feeling weighed down by the sheer volume of “stuff.” Here is the before, during and after of my library. Arguably, the before is more aesthetically pleasing, but the after makes me feel so much lighter, full of possibility. At this point in my life, I think I’d be completely fine not having any shelves or books at all. But even my kids, who don’t particularly enjoy reading (at least not the way I did when I was younger), were upset when I got rid of so many books—they say they like the feeling of them, the atmosphere they create. I agree. I love looking at other people’s libraries and I always will. Get rid of books I’ve read and know I’ll never read again. Get rid of books I haven’t read but know I’ll probably never read. Get rid of books on subjects I’m no longer interested in, or that I could easily borrow from the library or download if I change my mind later. Get rid of novels I’ve saved for years, waiting to read, but never did.

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A Room of My Own 3 months ago

The Irony of Personal Blog Longevity

I was recently cleaning up some of my old files and stumbled across posts from a free wordpress blog I’d set up for my mum and her two sisters back in 2020, when everyone was trying new projects. I called it The Three Sisters, and the idea was for them to share bits of life wisdom from their six or seven decades of experience. They ended up writing about 20 posts before abandoning it, but when I clicked the link the other day, everything was still there as I left it five years ago—neat, tidy, untouched. That got me thinking about the longevity of blogs. With paid domains and hosting, once you stop paying, everything disappears. But with free platforms—WordPress,  Blogger, and the like—you sometimes stumble across an old, abandoned blog that’s still sitting there decades later, preserved without anyone lifting a finger. I regret deleting my own old (self hosted) blog. I’d worked hard on it—tweaking SEO, even ranking first on Google for some posts. But at the time, I couldn’t justify the cost of hosting or a custom domain, or having a blog at all , so evetually, three years after starting it, I deleted the whole thing . Honestly, I felt relieved in the moment—one less thing to worry about. But now I wish I’d just kept it alive—and I probably would have, if I’d started it on a free platform. I find myself wondering about this blog sometimes. I don’t keep it for any particular reason beyond simply having a place for my thoughts. But life has been busy, and while I still collect ideas, links, and drafts, I rarely find the energy to actually write. I just started a new role, and most of my days happen in front of a computer. So outside of work, I reach for physical activities—anything that involves moving my body, even something as simple as cleaning the house. Sitting down to write often feels like I’m literally breaking my back. Meanwhile, I follow dozens of blogs in my RSS feed. People who post weekly notes, updates, essays—some of them incredibly consistent. And I know I wouldn’t be able to keep up with that rhythm at this stage of my life. Recently, I took six weeks off and went on vacation with my family. It was perfectly timed, just before starting the new job. In all that time, I wrote a single post. Weeks passed without me even opening my computer. Instead, I read on my Kindle, I rested, and I felt no urge at all to write, or collect, or track anything digitally. And yet, here’s the thing: this blog costs money to exist (no matter the actual amount). Even if I step away for weeks—or months—or years - I still have to keep paying for the domain and hosting if I want it to live. That feels incredibly wasteful when I’m not writing, and yet letting it disappear feels worse. I’ve been there before—deleting a blog I’d worked hard on, one that had even gained some traction—and I regretted it. If I had started it as something like  aroomofmyown.wordpress.com , it would be sitting there quietly, waiting for me, no matter how long I stayed away. That’s the irony: the free version offers permanence, while the paid one demands constant justification… and any lapse is unforgiving.

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A Room of My Own 5 months ago

Social Media Still Calls to Me—But I’m Not Answering

I’m currently on vacation, with time on my hands, and I’m with my sister—an enthusiastic Instagram user. We’ve been taking a lot of pictures together, and of course, she wants to tag me in them. I do have an Instagram account that I once sort of linked to this blog, but then decided not to. Still, I use it to open links people send me or to look things up. I follow maybe 10 accounts, max. But honestly, I barely check it—maybe once every few weeks, or when something randomly pops up. But now, because I’m on vacation, I’ve been on it a lot more. I shared the account with my sister so she can tag me in her posts. It’s a tiny, barely-alive account with exactly two followers—my sister and my niece. Scrolling through her profile, full of happy, shiny moments, I felt a familiar pull. It made me miss my old Instagram account—the one I had since 2011 and deleted completely a few years ago. Not just deactivated, but fully deleted. Every now and then, I feel a pang of regret over that. That account was like a mini time capsule of my child growing up. It was private, friends-only. People I knew in real life. But it got overwhelming. The endless scrolling, liking, checking—just like what happened to me on Facebook. At the time, I didn’t regret deleting it. But sometimes I do miss it. That feeling came back on this trip. But even now, with just two followers and following ten people, I can see the algorithm slowly reeling me in again. Suggested posts, targeted content based on what I pause to look at. It’s a slippery slope. I don’t know how people manage their lives around social media. To me it is addictive. I can’t just control it (believe me, I tried). I am not sure anyone can, but it is true that some people don’t see it as a huge time waster and they don’t overthink it. They just scroll. I still have my Facebook account—from the early days—and I haven’t deleted it. Mostly because I worked internationally for many years, and I’ve got over 600 contacts there (I culled and cleaned for years, attempting to control my feed)—people I’ve met and worked with. Messenger is handy, and yes, I know I could delete Facebook and keep Messenger, but sometimes I like to post something small. Just to say hi. To remind people I still exist. But I haven’t posted personal life updates in years. Then the other day, I did. It was a picture of my former boss, now retired, who flew in from Mexico to visit me and my husband on vacation in my home country (Bosnia). We all used to work together. We played dress-up in Dubrovnik (aka King’s Landing for Game of Thrones fans), and I posted a picture. And right after that, people started messaging me—likely reminded I’m still around—and asking what I’ve been up to. And I’m sitting there thinking, Well, if you were really wondering, you could have messaged me. I’m right here. That’s exactly what I do now—if I wonder about someone, I message them. I don’t have most people’s email addresses or phone numbers anyway, but Messenger works. And in doing that—actually reaching out—I’ve rekindled a few friendships. Nothing deep or ongoing, but short exchanges, a few messages here and there. And that feels real. So there I was this morning, lying in my hotel room, looking at my sister’s reels, wondering Should I bring back Instagram? And immediately: Why? Day One has been an absolute godsend for that itch. I can still store my photos. I can still write about what they meant to me, what I (really) felt. I can relive memories in ways that actually matter to me. And importantly—it still makes me want to take pictures. I’ve seen so many people say they’ve stopped taking photos altogether because they have nowhere to put them. I kind of get that. I see how much time my sister spends getting the perfect shot because the photo is going to go somewhere, and so it has to be good. I like beautiful pictures too. But mine usually go in our digital family photo albums—the ones I try to put together every year—or into Day One, where they resurface over time. But I don’t spend nearly as much time trying to get the perfect photo anymore. This whole Instagram temptation made me pause. What would I even do with a new account? Invite all my friends again? Start posting again? I already have Facebook, and if I really want to reach someone, I can message them. Since stepping away from social media, I’ve actually built stronger, more intentional connections. I’ve got standing catch-ups now—actual, monthly or so one-on-one chats with people I care about. And funnily enough, I never had that while I was active on social media. Back then, we all just posted updates and scrolled through each other’s feeds. It felt like we were in touch, but we weren’t really. There wasn’t space for real conversations. And those real conversations? They go deeper. They’re about things we’d never post publicly. We plan things, we meet up, we talk. It’s true what they say—we can really only maintain a few close relationships. Not hundreds. Now that I’ve moved countries and had to form new friendships, I find most of the people I see in real life aren’t even on my social media. And sure, sometimes I think, Oh, it would be nice to post a picture and have them see me in that setting - but I resist the temptation. I get these pangs, especially on vacation—when I’ve got space to think or time to tinker with things. But I try to pause. Like this morning, sitting here by the sea, thinking, No, I don’t need to show this to anyone. But I did want to flesh it out in a blog post rather than a journal entry. Which brings me to another thought—I really wish this blog had comments. Every now and then, I toy with the idea of going back to WordPress, just for the comments plugin. This current platform (Pika) doesn’t have one. I’ve had people reach out by email in response to my posts—and that’s been lovely. But I miss the public conversations that can happen right on a blog. On many of the blogs I follow, I learn just as much from the comments as from the original post. People responding, sharing their takes, offering advice, reflecting. Sharing interests that nobody in my real life shares. It becomes a little community. And sure, responding to emails one-on-one is great, but it’s time-consuming. And we can’t share it, except like this.  But it’s still one-sided. I hope Pika brings in comments soon—or at least makes them optional. I’d turn them on in a heartbeat. I don’t want to open another social media account—I even tried Mastodon briefly—but no can’t bring myself to use it. Because every time I dabble in that world, it brings me right back to this—this Instagram spiral. This black hole of time and energy. And as I get older, I’m just more aware of how precious time really is.

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A Room of My Own 7 months ago

Bear Web Beta: Finally, My Notes Anywhere

Something happened the other day that made me really weirdly happy. I opened my email first thing in the morning and saw that I’d I'd been accepted into the Bear web private beta. I was so excited. I wanted to tell someone right away. But then I realized t here’s no one in my day-to-day life who would get why this mattered. I guess that’s what this space is for. When I first decided to go all in on Bear , I knew it came with limitations. It’s Apple-only, which I accepted because no other app felt as good to use on my phone. The writing experience is clean, beautiful, and lightweight in a way nothing else really manages. I moved everything over from Obsidian, and it was nice to have constant access to my notes—to review them, trim what no longer made sense, and actually use them. But the big limitation: no web version. And that’s huge for me. At work, I can’t download apps on my work device. I’m in the Microsoft 365 world where OneNote is the note-taking tool of choice. OneNote is fine for work stuff (it just seamlessly integrates with everything at work), but I’d never use it for personal notes—mainly because you can’t really export anything properly and folder, folders, folders aka notebooks (tagging in Bear seems like such an elegant solution to note duplication). So for notes, it’s been Bear all the way—but not really for writing, much as I’d love to use it more. I spend most of my time in Windows. So Notion is still very much a thing for me for writing and learning. Anyway, before I went all in on Bear, I saw they were developing a web version and calling for beta testers. I signed up and forgot about it. People on the Bear forums have been asking about it constantly, and rightly so—cross-platform access is a deal-breaker for many. I’d never go fully Apple-only. Windows still does some things better, and Apple’s workarounds can be infuriating. But nothing beats the feel of writing on my (2018) MacBook Air. It just feels right. So now, finally, I have access to Bear on the web. I’m just thrilled to be able to access my notes outside of the Apple bubble. We were asked not to talk about the web app itself in detail, so I won’t. But I had to say something —because this little corner of the internet is where people might understand why it matters. So yeah. Yay, I did it.

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A Room of My Own 7 months ago

Nothing Worth Having Comes Easy — Or Does It?

“Nothing in the world is worth having or worth doing unless it means effort, pain, difficulty… I have never in my life envied a human being who led an easy life.” – attributed to Theodore Roosevelt I had a conversation with my husband the other day about this idea that most of us seem to carry — the belief that whatever is truly worthwhile should come through struggle. Hard work leads to success. A good relationship requires effort. A job is only valuable if you had to fight for it. Somewhere along the way, we absorbed the idea that struggle is the price of anything meaningful—like the quote above. But that just doesn’t resonate with me anymore. I’m not even sure when we first internalize this belief. But I see it playing out in subtle ways. I asked my teenage son, who’s 15, what he believes about success. His answer was: hard work. He already has this idea that a good degree or a successful career will only come through long hours of studying and grinding. And I think we — as a society, as parents — have passed this belief down to our kids without even realizing it. It’s not that it’s entirely wrong, but the true tragedy of it is that it makes not appreicate, sometimes not even notice (until we lose it) anything that comes easily. I’ve had jobs that came to me easily, and I never fully appreciated them. My first job was literally “given” to me — a well-paid, stable position — because I was in the right place at the right time. And yet, I never valued it the way I might have if I had struggled to land it. Then another job came along, and another. And instead of being grateful, I found myself focusing on the flaws: what wasn’t working, what I was missing, how it could be better. Because surely, it must only go better from here. It’s only when I left those jobs that I started to appreciate what I had. At the time, I was convinced I could do better — that something even better was just around the corner because it had all come so easily. Meanwhile, the people who had worked hard to get where I was seemed to understand they had a good thing going. Derren Brown writes in Happy that “we should train ourselves — as and when we remember — to feel satisfied with what comes more easily.” On a more new agey note - Esther Hicks talks about in Money, and the Law of Attraction — that the universe tends to reflect our beliefs back to us. If you believe something is hard, it will feel hard. If you believe it’s easy, you’ll experience more ease. But most of us are so attached to the idea that effort equals value, we resist accepting anything that comes without struggle. After all, aren’t we taught not to spoil our kids—because when they get everything without effort, they tend to take it for granted? Even creativity gets tangled up in this. We distrust joy and ease, as if they’re signs we’re not doing it right. And yet, as Brown points out, the key to a more satisfying life might be to stop chasing struggle and start finding contentment in the things that come naturally and easily. I think the real danger of this mindset is that it makes us blind to the good things we already have. It reminds me of the hadith: "Take advantage of five before five: your youth before your old age; your health before your sickness; your wealth before your poverty; your free time before your workload; and your life before your death." — Prophet Muhammad We’d be wise to remember that. I know there were many times in my life when I didn’t.

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A Room of My Own 7 months ago

The Journal Project I Can’t Quit

In the past few months, I haven’t really had much time for blogging. There were so many moments when an idea struck me and I thought, Oh, this would make such a good blog post . I’d jot down a few notes in my Pika page drafts, but I never had the time to do the post justice. Work was/is intense—long days, back-to-back virtual meetings, eight hours or more just sitting down. Normally I’d squeeze in a walk or at least move around more during the day, but these projects had me glued to my chair—to the detriment of my lower back. So, by the time I got home, I had no energy left for writing—especially not on a computer. Thankfully, journaling survived. I discovered a way to do 'verbal' journaling with Otter.ai , and it’s been a game changer. I record voice notes, then clean them up with ChatGPT—for grammar or to fix the occasional weird transcription—and paste the final version into Day One. That’s how I’ve been keeping up… and keeping my sanity. I’d sometimes literally journal my day while driving home from work, just talking into the app like I would to a friend. It’s not the same as writing, but it’s strangely therapeutic. I leave those entries as stream-of-consciousness, just as they are. Which brings me to what I actually wanted to blog about: all the energy I did have went into consolidating my Day One journal. It’s turned into this ongoing project I feel vaguely guilty about, so much so that I’m going to copy one of Otter.ai ’s “summary” snippets here because it made me laugh. If you’ve used Otter (and probably any other similar app), you’ll know it auto-generates a list of key points from each recording—and one of mine boiled down to how guilty I feel about spending so much time doing this. But the truth is, I’m absolutely compelled. (Otter. ai. summary excerpt): Obsession with Organizing Notes • Speaker 1 expresses a compulsion to sort out diary entries, despite acknowledging it as a waste of time. • Speaker 1 mentions the desire to have all entries in one place and use the "on this day" feature to look back on past entries. • Speaker 1 considers taking pictures of paper diary entries to complete a comprehensive record of their life in the app. • Speaker 1 reflects on the impracticality and potential risks of this project, despite its appeal. As I wrote in this post and this post , I never really used Day One the way it was intended. I tried to use it for photobook printing instead of journaling. But after reading a bunch of posts on journaling  Robert Breen’s blog , something clicked for me. So much of it resonated. I realized Day One was finally it for me—the journaling app I’d use, separate from personal knowledge management or any other note-taking tools. I craved real consolidation: daily notes, paper journal entries, mementos—all in one place. And then, slowly, backtracking through my digital trail to pull everything together. So that’s what I’ve been doing. I’ve been using Evernote since 2011, all the way through to 2021, and for years I used it as a kind of daily memory-keeping dump—emails, photos, audio files, ticket stubs, scanned pamphlets—anything and everything that came my way. Before I went digital, I used to paste these things into my physical journals. My old journals are stuffed full of paper mementos, random quotes, cutouts, all sorts of things. They were always a kind of messy but precious commonplace book. Once I started using Evernote, I created notebooks for mementos, quotes, wisdom, and all sorts of stuff. But for some reason, it never occurred to me to use Day One for any of that. Now that I’ve settled into journaling more regularly in Day One, I decided to pull those Evernote entries in. Most of them were backed up as  and HTML files in Dropbox, and I never really looked at them—until now. I discovered I could import files into Apple Notes. This was huge for me because there aren’t many easy ways to do that (unless you’re into coding or using complex workarounds, some of which are floating around the internet). So what I did was import them year by year into Apple Notes. From there, I manually sent entries into Day One. Some of them carried over the correct date, but others didn’t, so I had to adjust those manually. That’s when I realized how important it is to include the date in your entries. Don’t rely on the system’s metadata—just write the date somewhere in your entry. I’d been doing that in Evernote anyway, probably because, for a long time, I used to journal with Awesome Note  on my phone (a really awesome little app, if it had a desktop or web version, I think I’d still use it), which synced to Evernote and encouraged date stamping. That little habit ended up being incredibly helpful, since I could just copy the date over to Day One even when the system didn’t preserve it. Yes, it takes time. But it feels worth it. Well… at least I think so. Some of my entries go all the way back to 2011, and I even have digital notes from before then (mainly in Word documents). My plan is to eventually consolidate everything, even go into my email archives and pull out the ones I want to keep—emails that matter to me, that I want to remember—and send them into Day One, adjusting the dates as needed. And then, one day, I’ll go through my physical journals. I won’t transcribe them—it would take too long, and most of them aren’t even in English—but I might take photos of selected pages and add those (I do that now when I journal on paper because I do that to), maybe not every entry, but enough to get a sense of the years. I’ve got dozens of those journals, starting from childhood. It’s a massive project. And yes, as that Otter summary noted, I do question the time I spend on it —especially when I’m already juggling work, kids, life. But I try (not always successfully) to limit myself to 20–30 minutes a day. Because honestly, I could spend hours on this and not even notice the time passing. That’s how I know it’s something I love. And yes, it’s a hobby most people wouldn’t bother with. I know that. It’s not urgent, it’s not high priority, it’s not even something I can justify putting on my main to-do list. It lives on what I call my “may or may not do —but probably will” list. But it has been fun. I’m nearly done—just two more years of entries to finish. Some years had more (like the year my daughter was born, which had over 300 entries), and some had way less. I didn’t bring everything over—some things just didn’t feel important anymore—but most of it made the cut. So yes, I completely neglected blogging during this period. But maybe this post is helpful to someone else who’s got their entries stuck in Evernote. This is a manual workaround, but it’s not as painful as it sounds—and kind of rewarding, too. It’s amazing how fast time flies. Nothing stays the same. And going through all those old entries has been surprisingly fun. It even turned into a little family activity. As I scrolled through, I’d share things with my kids and husband. We’d laugh, remember stuff. There’s still so much I want to do, but for now, it all lives in that “someday” list. This isn’t something I can prioritize—nor should I, honestly, with everything else on my plate—but I still sneak in bits of it during breaks or while lying down on the couch with my laptop. Or when the iCloud sync behaves, I can even do it from my phone, which is great. It’s basically: Apple Notes → Share → Day One → Save (and check the date). I don’t go overboard with organizing—unless something’s obvious, like a video that needs tagging—but I mostly rely on the 'On This Day' feature to help me sort entries over time, just a few a day. I delete unnecessary photos, add context where needed (and always date any additions), tag things properly, and that’s it. I figure I’ve got a year to get it all tidied up. And I keep adding more… And more. RELATED POSTS: The Art of Organizing (Things That Don’t Need to Be Organized) Why Did I Wait So Long to Start Using Day One? A Journey Through Journaling, Tracking and Memories with Day One

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A Room of My Own 8 months ago

Letting Go of the Fear of Losing Data

A few days ago, I received an email from a reader  1  about relying on digital tools and the continuity of the various digital tools I use. I thought it was worth turning into a blog post. They asked whether I worry about locking my data into proprietary platforms—the very ones I often mention in my posts. The short answer—I used to worry a lot. But not anymore. Not really. RELATED:  A Digital Workflow to Run My Life  (updated, Mar 2025) Back when I was a heavy Evernote user—starting in 2011, when Evernote was the note-taking app—I obsessed over the fact that my data was essentially trapped. You could only export it as HTML or Evernote’s own format (ENEX), neither of which felt reassuring. I backed everything up meticulously, exporting both formats regularly and storing them in external hard drives (or more recently Dropbox). I still have those old Evernote files, untouched but safely archived. Even though I haven’t been a paying user for years, my data—thousands of notes and clipped webpages—is still there in Evernote and accessible to me. (These days, I’m actually in the process of moving some of that content into Day One, which I now use for journaling. ) This anxiety over data portability is also why I initially hesitated with Notion . I love Notion, but in its early days, exporting everything was a hassle. You needed a premium plan to export pages with subpages, and for a long time, bulk exports weren’t even possible. That’s why I experimented with Obsidian —I liked that it was built around plain-text markdown files that, apparently, I could access “forever”. But ultimately, I didn’t love how Obsidian handled images and attachments, and I hated its mobile experience. Also, not having a web app meant I couldn’t access my notes easily at work. Over time, though, I realized I don’t actually need to obsess over data loss. Or even data portability for that matter. Instead of fixating on data longevity, I focus on how and why of my data. That’s why I switched to Bear —it just works for me. I love how accessible my notes are, how clean everything looks, and how seamless the mobile experience is. Now that Bear is beta testing a web app, I’m even considering what other app I can let go of in favor of simplification. (It will most likely be Notion , although I still appreciate Notion for structured learning—using toggles and creating my own study guides). In short, my approach to tools has shifted. I created some rules for myself. And wrote them down. And for most of them, I can say I’ve been successful in following them since it’s something I truly care about—everything I do is the amount of life I exchange for it. And the older I get, the more aware I become. My workflow rules Limit the amount of information I take in and process. - check Just because I can capture everything doesn’t mean I should (I used to in Evernote, but not anymore). - check Don’t rush to save every interesting idea ; if it’s truly important, it’ll come back to me. - check (I am better than I used to be). Be selective about what I consume, especially online. - check, check! Avoid organizing and exploring new tools -  (hmmm - I am not very successful here) Focus on capturing my own thoughts and ideas and summarizing concepts in my own words. - check, check Don’t save everything—let things go. - check Write, write, write (don’t just consume - create) - check REMEMBER: You don’t have to run around after everything or try every new thing… I want every tool I use to serve a clear purpose. I don’t worry about data. I export and back up whatever I can in whatever format I can (most tools allow some usable format) , and I dump all of that into a folder in Dropbox (and on an external hard drive) and continue enjoying the tool. But if, years or decades from now, any of it becomes obsolete or apps like  Day One shut down, I’ll deal with it then. And I will probably still be able to do something with, for example, the JSON files I exported from Day One. And if not… well, so be it. At the very least, I’ll have a PDF or two to remind me that I was once young(er). The truth is, in 30 years ( OMG, yes, thirty ), I’ve never actually lost anything significant, despite all my backups and precautions. And if I ever do, I’ll probably find a way to recover it. What matters most is that I enjoy the process of capturing my thoughts and the data I need. I want to believe that all of it is adding value to my life and exponentially growing my first brain (as opposed to, you know, my second brain). For example, with habit trackers—I use an app I bought years ago that only works on my iPhone. Every now and then, I take a screenshot of my streaks and upload it to Day One . I don’t try to save every detail beyond that. I’ve also learned the art of deletion—I no longer save completed tasks, for example. (Yes, I used to save all my “dones”.) In Trello, where I keep my master to-do list, I delete tasks once they’re done. That helps me avoid turning everything into some kind of treasure trove. Sometimes, I start using an app only to realize it takes too much time, that I tinker with it too much, or that it duplicates what another app already does. When that happens, I let go of both the app and its data. I delete, I use, and I enjoy. And I still love discovering new apps and moving my data around, hoping to find that magical product that will help me do something just a little better. I don’t think that will ever change—and maybe that’s a good thing. We can’t all focus only on the big picture. Some of us need to care about the details, too. Well… the details we enjoy. I always love getting emails—it’s one of the best parts of blogging. Over the past few months, I’ve built a few genuine connections through these back-and-forth exchanges. But I do think it would be even better if Pika had a commenting feature. I believe it’s in the works. It would be nice to have a space for exchanging opinions with people who care about the same things I do. Limit the amount of information I take in and process. - check Just because I can capture everything doesn’t mean I should (I used to in Evernote, but not anymore). - check Don’t rush to save every interesting idea ; if it’s truly important, it’ll come back to me. - check (I am better than I used to be). Be selective about what I consume, especially online. - check, check! Avoid organizing and exploring new tools -  (hmmm - I am not very successful here) Focus on capturing my own thoughts and ideas and summarizing concepts in my own words. - check, check Don’t save everything—let things go. - check Write, write, write (don’t just consume - create) - check I always love getting emails—it’s one of the best parts of blogging. Over the past few months, I’ve built a few genuine connections through these back-and-forth exchanges. But I do think it would be even better if Pika had a commenting feature. I believe it’s in the works. It would be nice to have a space for exchanging opinions with people who care about the same things I do.

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A Room of My Own 8 months ago

My App Defaults (Mar 2025 Edition)

Some things have changed since I first shared my app defaults. I’ve cut back on the number of apps I use and simplified my setup. Since I have a post coming up about the fear of losing data in proprietary apps, it feels like a good time for an update. RSS Feed: Switched to Feeder instead of Readwise Reader. I like the Feeder’s Chrome widget, and the app has a much cleaner look overall. Plus, it’s free. Notes: Using Bear, and I hope to eventually replace all my note-taking apps (Apple Notes, Notion) with it once the web app is publicly released. I do enjoy Notion for structured/academic learning, so I’m not sure if Bear will be an adequate replacement—but I’ll give it a try. Obsidian: I stopped using it completely. I wrote about that in this post. Movie Discovery/Tracking: I’m now tracking movies in Day One. Or rather, I journal about them. I love seeing movies and shows I’ve watched pop up in my “On This Day” feed. Plus, when I watch something, I now take time to research the film, note interesting details, and record who I watched it with and what I thought about it. Calorie Tracker: Added a calorie tracking app. I forgot to mention it last time, even though I use it daily. (Calorie tracking is the only way I know to stay slim in middle age!) Note: My list only includes apps for personal use; work is a whole different story. 📧 Mail service: Yahoo (main), Gmail (blogging, apps, services) 📬 Mail client: Apple Mail (Mac and iPhone), web on PC 📇  Contacts: Apple Contacts, Yahoo Mail contacts 💬 Chat: SMS, WhatsApp, Viber, Facebook Messenger 📆 Calendar: Google Calendar ✅ Tasks/To Do: Trello ☁️ Cloud storage: Dropbox 🌅 Photo library: Dropbox 🔐 Passwords: Dropbox Passwords 🌐 Web browser: Chrome on PC and Mac, Safari on iPhone 📰 RSS service: Feeder 📚Read it Later: Readwise Reader 📜 Journal: Day One 📝 Notes: Apple Notes (personal admin notes I refer to frequently) 📝 PKM Notes: Bear 📔 Learning:   Notion 🖊️ Long form Writing: Dabble Writer 🖼️ Screenshots: Lightshot 🎞️ Video editing: VLLO on my iPhone 🗺 Maps: Google maps 🌤️ Weather: Apple Weather 🎙️ Podcasts: Spotify 🎶 Music: Spotify 💬 Transcriptions: Otter.ai 📚 eBooks: Kindle 📚 Books disovery/tracking: Goodreads 💁🏻‍♂️ Social: Linkedin 🛒 Shopping List: Google Keep (shared with family) 📢 Blog: Pika 🧘🏻‍♀️Workouts: DownDog 🍔 Calorie Tracker: LoseIt 🔢 Habit Tracker: Good Habits 👗 Clothes App: Closet+ RSS Feed: Switched to Feeder instead of Readwise Reader. I like the Feeder’s Chrome widget, and the app has a much cleaner look overall. Plus, it’s free. Notes: Using Bear, and I hope to eventually replace all my note-taking apps (Apple Notes, Notion) with it once the web app is publicly released. I do enjoy Notion for structured/academic learning, so I’m not sure if Bear will be an adequate replacement—but I’ll give it a try. Obsidian: I stopped using it completely. I wrote about that in this post. Movie Discovery/Tracking: I’m now tracking movies in Day One. Or rather, I journal about them. I love seeing movies and shows I’ve watched pop up in my “On This Day” feed. Plus, when I watch something, I now take time to research the film, note interesting details, and record who I watched it with and what I thought about it. Calorie Tracker: Added a calorie tracking app. I forgot to mention it last time, even though I use it daily. (Calorie tracking is the only way I know to stay slim in middle age!) 📧 Mail service: Yahoo (main), Gmail (blogging, apps, services) 📬 Mail client: Apple Mail (Mac and iPhone), web on PC 📇  Contacts: Apple Contacts, Yahoo Mail contacts 💬 Chat: SMS, WhatsApp, Viber, Facebook Messenger 📆 Calendar: Google Calendar ✅ Tasks/To Do: Trello ☁️ Cloud storage: Dropbox 🌅 Photo library: Dropbox 🔐 Passwords: Dropbox Passwords 🌐 Web browser: Chrome on PC and Mac, Safari on iPhone 📰 RSS service: Feeder 📚Read it Later: Readwise Reader 📜 Journal: Day One 📝 Notes: Apple Notes (personal admin notes I refer to frequently) 📝 PKM Notes: Bear 📔 Learning:   Notion 🖊️ Long form Writing: Dabble Writer 🖼️ Screenshots: Lightshot 🎞️ Video editing: VLLO on my iPhone 🗺 Maps: Google maps 🌤️ Weather: Apple Weather 🎙️ Podcasts: Spotify 🎶 Music: Spotify 💬 Transcriptions: Otter.ai 📚 eBooks: Kindle 📚 Books disovery/tracking: Goodreads 💁🏻‍♂️ Social: Linkedin 🛒 Shopping List: Google Keep (shared with family) 📢 Blog: Pika 🧘🏻‍♀️Workouts: DownDog 🍔 Calorie Tracker: LoseIt 🔢 Habit Tracker: Good Habits 👗 Clothes App: Closet+

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A Room of My Own 9 months ago

Take a Walk in Nature, Bring Your Notebook

Our nature trips are self-love retreats in themselves. Essentially, that’s why we do it—returning to nature for self-love, to feel good, and to deepen our connection with the Earth and ourselves. But what if we could take that experience even further? Or every time, if we are lucky enough to be able to carve out that time for ourselves. So, here is a question: when you pack for your hiking trip, is a notebook, or maybe a journal among your essentials? And I am not talking about a note-taking app on your phone, but an old fashioned, real deal notebook. Preferably something like a composition notebook .  You know the kind, sturdy and indestructible, but still as inviting as any fancy journal. Pick it up on and bring it along. And be ready to jot down your thoughts and observations on your hike or walk. Being out in nature has long been a tool for many—if not most—authors to clear their minds, spark creativity, welcome new ideas, and reflect on the issues of the day. It is in itself a form of meditation, connecting with nature in order to think. Or in order to not think. They walked, some of them hiked and they journaled. Henry David Thoreau published an essay and a series of lectures on the topic called.. “Walking” . “I wish to speak a word for Nature, for absolute freedom and wildness, as contrasted with a freedom and culture merely civil, -to regard man as an inhabitant, or a part and parcel of Nature, rather than a member of society.” “Moreover, you must walk like a camel, which is said to be the only beast which ruminates when walking.” Thoreau also points out that when a traveller asked Woodworth’s servant to show him his study, she answered, “Here is his library, but his study is out of doors.” Writers often chase what Haruku Murakami famously called the void, which he described in his superb memoir ‘What I Talk About When I Talk About Running. ’  He believed that running and the solitary time that comes with it had an enormous influence on his writing career. A study from Stanford University showed that when people tackled mental tasks requiring imagination, the act of walking led to more creative thinking than sitting . But we don’t need a study to know that walking itself inspires and clears the mind, we just may want to be ready to capture the results. And maybe back then, they could commit those thoughts to memory, but I feel like we need to write them down—otherwise, poof , they’re gone. Some people are really good at just sitting solitary and working through the issues on their minds. Some need a tool. Like a notebook! I have spent most of my life journaling and recording in one form or another. I wrote about my writing life here. I have captured dialogues, memories, and descriptions—essentially, much of my world in detail. I kept my ‘to-do’ lists, everything, all in that one notebook. Now, I do most of it in an app , but I always have a notebook going. And where better to fill these pages than while you are boiling your first cup of coffee, in front of a tent, solitary, camping. Or while taking a break on your next hike. Remember the quote by Joan Didion: “I don’t know what I think until I write it down.” I believe that most of us are those people. We live in a busy world, flooded by information. I once did a four-hour silent walking retreat, surrounded by a group of 30 people, and it was completely doable. It takes some getting used to, but who knows—your walking companion might be open to a meditative self-love walk too. A retreat for both of your minds. You don’t have to focus on thinking—just let yourself be in the moment. That feeling of freedom in nature, where there’s nowhere to be and nothing to do, is something we’ve all experienced. With that mindset, you might find clarity, inspiration, or simply a sense of peace. And when you sit down to write, who knows where it might take you? You may end up: Writing a “To Not Do” List; Reaffirming your values in writing; Jotting down Your Secrets of Adulthood Reexamining your FOMO (I have it, you probably have it) Analyzing Your Strengths or Self Improvement Areas Writing down your Life Vision. Using present tense. That list may not be the same if you write it in your office after a busy day. The fresh air, movement, and quiet of nature can bring a different kind of clarity. Writing a “To Not Do” List; Reaffirming your values in writing; Jotting down Your Secrets of Adulthood Reexamining your FOMO (I have it, you probably have it) Analyzing Your Strengths or Self Improvement Areas Writing down your Life Vision. Using present tense.

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A Room of My Own 9 months ago

The Eisenhower Matrix I Forgot About (But Still Followed)

This popped up in my Day One memories today—a screenshot of an Eisenhower Matrix I once wrote on my iPad. Naturally, I saved it to Day One and forgot about it. But even though I forgot, writing it down must have planted it somewhere in my mind. The priorities in the top two squares? All completed. I had written down a focus on learning, and——I followed through. I just completed the final course for my postgraduate degree, which I started back in 2023. Every learning goal I had set for myself is now done. When I made this matrix, I remember feeling bloated, fat, exhausted. Now I have a regular yoga practice. I’ve lost over eight kilograms, which is huge—especially because I’m back to my pre-first-baby weight (which was 16 years ago!). And I did this at 47, in perimenopause. I also wanted for my focus at work to be on my job, and at home my kids—which remains true and that should really be in the first quadrant, but at the time it was urgent. This column stayed delegated, exactly as it should. A clean house is important—but not important that I be the one to do it. I love having a professional cleaner come in twice a month, and honestly, there are plenty of other things I’d give up before letting go of that! This is where I still get stuck. The so-called "don't do" column still tempts me. I keep wanting to do things that don’t actually need to be done. In fact, I’ve written several blog posts about my ongoing struggles with this exact issue. Technically, in the original Eisenhower Matrix, this quadrant is labeled “waste.” But I like the template I used—it called it "Do Later." That feels more forgiving. I may need to reconsider, though. If you’re curious about the Eisenhower Matrix, this is where I first encountered it.

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A Room of My Own 9 months ago

Write the Book You Want to Read

“If there’s a book that you want to read, but it hasn’t been written yet, then you must write it.” Toni Morrison I was skimming  Slow Productivity on Spotify while walking the other day. One example the author used was Jane Austen’s writing process—how she found pockets of time to write, often without telling anyone, just scribbling away in her sitting room. When I first encountered that anecdote—I think it was in Mason Currey’s Daily Rituals: How Artists Work  - I remember thinking, I can relate to that. But when people use this as an example of productivity—of squeezing writing into every spare moment as proof that being busy isn’t an excuse—I have to wonder if they’ve ever actually written a book they wanted to read. Because I have, and I did exactly that for years. Cal Newport disputes this idea though. He argues that Austen produced her best work during two periods when she had fewer household responsibilities and social commitments. The first was in 1796, after her family shut down the boys' school they had been running at home which allowed her to write. Her second prolific period came in 1800 when the Austens withdrew from the social life of Chawton. As her biographer Claire Tomalin notes, with "no dances and few dinners," they focused more on their private pursuits, giving Austen the time and space to write. But as much as Newport wants to make a novel point, it doesn’t seem all that impossible to me that she actually wrote her novels in those spare pockets of time in her living room when she was very busy—that they were her escape from reality—and that this dedicated time she had in 1796 and 1800 was more about editing rather than writing itself, a phase that required sustained focus and effort. It’s the story of J.K. Rowling—writing Harry Potter in bits and pieces, often in difficult circumstances. Over several years, she wrote whenever she could, often in cafes while her baby daughter slept in a stroller. As a single mother on government assistance, struggling financially, she filled notebooks with longhand drafts. Living in Harry Potter’s world obviously was her escape. And while she may have hoped for success, I doubt that was her focus while she was writing .  She simply wrote the book she loved. It’s interesting how many people see writing as a chore. They say things like, "If Jane Austen could do it, surely you can wake up early and write for an hour before work." But in my experience, if you truly want to write, you will write. It’s like reading. My sister, who isn’t much of a reader and often finds novels a chore, once noticed that anytime I had a spare moment—waiting for one of my children, standing in line, sitting in the car—I’d pull out my Kindle. She said, “ Well, that’s how you read so many books.” Of course—because I want to. It’s not a task or obligation. It’s something I love. Otherwise, I would have to put it on my habit tracker. Honestly, reading and writing never go on my habit tracker. But walking 7000+ steps a day does. I filled dozens of notebooks with my own writing before I ever switched to typing on a laptop (well, I was writing before we even had laptops).  I wrote purely for the joy of it, getting lost in the worlds I was creating. I wrote about my writing life in  My Writing Life . Eventually, I wrote the book I wanted to read. I was in control of the characters, their destinies, everything. At first, it was just notebooks filled with scattered scenes. But eventually, Scrivener entered my life, and I edited those thousands of words down to about 80,000. But while that final manuscript was 80,000 words, I had written another three books’ worth of scenes along the way—just because I enjoyed it. It was never a chore. I did exactly what Austen did—writing whenever I had time. In bed, after school, in the school library, on lunch breaks at work. I always carried a notebook. I wrote through difficult moments, through heartbreak, through challenges. It was my escape. Yes, writing is a job, but at its heart, it has to be something you genuinely want to do. As Meg Cabot puts it : “Write the kind of story you would like to read. People will give you all sorts of advice about writing, but if you’re not enjoying it, no one else will either.” After all, how else can you create something that readers will actually want to read? Create the world you want to create—because you want to be there (well, on some level at least, depending on the world). Whether anyone will ever see it, whether it will get published, whether it will be "successful" —none of that really matters if you love the process. And I loved the process. In case anyone’s wondering, I did send my novel for assessment. The editor gave great feedback and advice, especially on connecting scenes and strengthening the secondary storyline. Now, I’m just waiting for some time without obligations to focus on my edits. I could be working on them right now instead of writing this, I guess, but the book is written. At this stage, editing feels like a chore. And it’s not going to happen until there’s nothing else more interesting left for me to do.

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A Room of My Own 9 months ago

The Art of Organizing (Things That Don’t Need to Be Organized)

DISCLAIMER: This post is, in some ways, a continuation of my thoughts from a previous one. I realize there’s a lot of overlap, but as I try to articulate my thoughts here, I find that some conclusions are only now starting to take shape. Yesterday, I submitted the final assignment for my postgraduate degree in digital transformation—my third postgraduate degree in five years. And honestly? I’ve had enough. The first one was in psychology, something I had always wanted to study. When I started, I had time on my hands, a gap year of sorts. By the time I finished, I was in a full-time job. But instead of stopping, I kept going—one degree after another. Almost in a panic, as soon as I finished one, I would start looking for the next. None of them were necessary for my job. Good for my CV? Possibly. But somewhere in the back of my mind, I wanted to have them. This post isn’t about degrees, though. It’s about filling time. And organizing things. This morning, lying in bed free of obligations, I thought about something I had discussed with a friend the night before. So many people are constantly busy. They don’t have time for anything. They’re always running around—carting kids to activities, cleaning, decluttering, doing errands. And I always wonder: how much of that is real work, and how much of it is just… busy work? Because for me, so much of what people do, what I do, seems to be the latter. And maybe there’s a reason for that. A study found that many people actually dislike being alone with their thoughts—so much so that some preferred to give themselves electric shocks rather than sit quietly. Researchers found that even when participants were given prompts or allowed to do the experiment at home, they still found thinking less enjoyable than, reading or listening to music. I’m not saying I’d go as far as choosing an electric shock over doing nothing, but I do find it hard to just … do nothing. Even if I am truly, at least in theory, committing to the thinking life. Maybe that’s why I’m always looking for the next thing to optimize, organize, or tweak—even if it doesn’t actually need to be done. Almost none of the things I do—aside from my actual job— have to be done. Sure, there are occasional obligations, like taking my child to after school activities, social obligations. So, most days, when I get home from work at around 5:30 pm —and often do—just sit in front of the TV, watch something (tv in our house is a shared activity), and eat dinner (which, thankfully, my husband usually cooks). But I’ve added other things to my schedule that make me feel even guiltier than watching TV. Things I don’t mind doing. Things I like doing. Things that don’t actually need to be done. In this blog post , I wrote about and advocated for not doing things that don’t need to be done. Take my photo albums. Every year (well, most years), I make one on Shutterfly and get it printed. I like to think that my kids (though it’s mostly for me) would like to have them someday. I mean, where do all these pictures people take even go? I once asked a friend who takes a photo of every single plate of food she orders in a restaurant what she does with those pictures (some she posts on her social media), and she looked at me as if I was crazy for even wondering. But there has got to be a purpose to all those photographs we all take. Doesn’t it? I also use Day One for journaling and memory-keeping. Recently, I realized I had years of scattered notes, snippets of journal entries, and old Evernote exports sitting in Dropbox and Obsidian. So, I added a task to my Trello backlog: Consolidate all my memories into Day One. Because, of course, it would be nice to have everything in one place. Easy to search. Easy to export. Always with me. I still kick myself for not using Day One properly all these years. I don’t know why it never occurred to me. Maybe because I initially downloaded it just to help with my photo albums, thinking it would make things easier. But then I got sidetracked by other apps. Since I downloaded Bear, I’ve promised myself not to overcomplicate things. I use it just for my thousands of notes I’ve saved over the years—topics of interest, random thoughts, bits of research. Previously, they all lived in Evernote, then Obsidian. Now they live in Bear. And yet, I still feel the need to tweak things. To tag them properly. To backlink them correctly. To make sure everything is neat, searchable, and optimized. Then there’s my blog. I now draft posts directly in Pika because I like the interface. For my old Wordpress blog I used to draft in Notion. But I suspect that as soon as Bear releases its web version, I’ll switch again. I know none of this is necessary. But I do it anyway. In an effort to keep track of my never-ending need to organize, I added a Trello list to my Master To-Do board called "May or May Not Do." This is where I dump every little thing that crosses my mind to alleviate the pressure of things that don’t need to be done. And to give a better idea of what I mean, here are a few Trello screenshots of that list. A thought, a task, of something I could  (would like to) do. None of these things need to be done. None of them truly matter. And yet, if I had unlimited free time—without guilt—I’d probably sit down and do them all . Looking back, I’ve always been this way. Even in my childhood, I always had a notebook going—writing down plans, optimizing things, and switching hobbies and interests. My son is similar; he’s attracted to planners, habit trackers, and writing down his plans. I introduced him to Remnote for his flashcards for school (I came across it while researching note apps for myself), and he took to it right away. I don’t think my daughter will be like that. Maybe we are just born this way. A few weeks before I had my second child, I remember sitting at work, feeling compelled to organize my phone book. I downloaded an app called Contact Duster (I still remember the name—it’s still funny), deleted all the numbers I didn’t recognize, merged duplicates, and cleaned everything up. It took me hours to complete. To this day, I have never done it again. Nor was it ever really necessary. At one point, I was obsessed with organizing my iPhone apps—back when we accessed them through iTunes. I just had to delete the ones I wasn’t using and clear them out. Why? No idea. And now, since I moved my notes to Bear, I feel the need to clean up my Readwise highlights that imported with my notes, too. Clean them. Curate them. Tag them properly. Make sure I only keep highlights from books I actually remember reading. Or want to refer to. And now that Readwise lets you chat with your highlights? There is absolutely no need for me to do that manually or… at all. It’s not just digital. Last year, I went through my entire house—organized and decluttered every single nook and cranny. I donated so many clothes over several rounds of decluttering, keeping only the pieces I love wearing.  When I handed them over to a friend, she—who knows my house well—asked, Where did you even keep all this? Well… I learned how to fold the KonMari way. And when I finished? My first thought was, What else can I organize? But here’s the thing: No matter how much I organize, I always find something else to tweak. To optimize. To tidy up. To structure. And I wonder—how much of this is just busy work? And if I didn’t do it? Well, I could literally walk away from all of this—my memory-keeping, journaling, note-taking, organizing—and nobody would be any the wiser. Nobody would care. If the internet disappeared tomorrow, what would I have to show for all these carefully curated highlights, structured notes, and digital archives? Not much. There wouldn’t be a tangible legacy, no physical proof of the hours spent organizing my thoughts, tracking ideas, and fine-tuning systems that exist only digitally. And yet, I keep doing it. Even now, as I write this blog post—trying to articulate my thoughts—I feel like I shouldn’t be spending time on it. As if there are better, more productive, more justifiable ways to fill my hours. But then again, is this hobby (that’s exactly what it is, yes!) of mine really less worthy than others? Is it more pointless than crocheting, which at least results in something tangible? Less valuable than golfing, which gets people outdoors? Less useful than running, which improves physical health? Less meaningful than volunteering, which benefits others? Less enriching than reading? Less satisfying than piecing together a puzzle? Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe the value isn’t in the output but in the process. Maybe the satisfaction of organizing my thoughts, archiving memories, and structuring information isn’t meant to have a grander purpose. Maybe it’s just something I do—the same way someone else might spend an afternoon perfecting their golf swing, knitting a scarf they’ll never wear, or running, biking… Maybe the point is simply that I enjoy it… once I let go of the guilt.

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A Room of My Own 9 months ago

The Allure of Open Homes: A Window Into Other Lives

I love open homes . The first time I encountered them was during my first visit to my husband’s family in New Zealand. Before that, I had no concept of open homes because, where I come from, if you want to see a place that’s for sale, you call the agent or the seller and arrange a viewing. But you wouldn’t do it for fun—you’d only do it if you were seriously considering buying. The idea that someone’s home could be opened up for strangers to just walk through, especially while their personal belongings were still there, was completely foreign to me. When I first heard about open homes, I kept asking, You mean we can just walk in and look at other people’s houses? It seemed so strange. And so exciting! This was before apps or online listings were a thing (and it wasn’t so long ago, mind you!) , so during that first vacation to New Zealand, every Saturday morning, I’d wait for the newspaper, circle all the homes I wanted to check out, line them up by time and location, and hit the road the next day (open homes are usually on Sundays). I made my husband come with me, and we’d grab Jimmy’s pies —a South Island specialty I grew to love—and Diet Coke for the journey. I wasn’t just interested in the large, beautiful homes but also in the smaller, quainter ones. One day, an agent at an open home asked what we were doing, and when I told her we were on vacation for a month, she said, I can’t imagine anything more boring than spending your holiday walking through open homes. But I couldn’t imagine anything better. It was a way to explore the place in a way that felt real. I mean, how else would I have learned, during that first visit when I didn’t know anyone, that in most New Zealand homes, it’s customary to take your shoes off — or at least polite to ask if you should? There was something fascinating about seeing how people lived—how they arranged their spaces, the little extensions they added, and the choices they made for their homes. (Although, at the time, I wasn’t aware that a lot of the furniture was actually staged or specifically brought in for the purpose).  I remember my mother-in-law telling me that when she sold her house, the agent made her remove any excess furniture or trinkets to make the house appear more spacious. The homes I visited were always clean and tidy, showcasing minimalism in their staging. A friend of mine who recently sold her home went through a similar process. When the agent walked through her house, they asked her to get rid of many pieces of her furniture. She was left wondering what to do with it and the agent simply said, "I don't know, but you can't have it here when people are walking through." In the end, she donated her furniture, as she didn’t have anywhere to store it. After a few weeks, she told me that living without all those extra pieces of furniture was actually a much nicer way to live and she would be mindful of that in her new home. One day, we were at an open home I had chosen, and across the road was another house for sale, but it didn’t have an open home scheduled. My husband saw it and said, I kind of like this house. So he called the agent, who answered immediately and asked, Are you standing in front of it now? When he said yes, she replied, Wait there—I have the key. I’ll be there in a few minutes. And just like that, we got a private viewing. The house was… horrible. It had untouched ’70s décor—old, greenish, flowery carpet, dark furniture, and a furnace smack in the middle of the room. The couple who owned it was divorcing, the agent explaned, and while they had updated the wiring and other structural elements, they hadn’t touched the interior. The windows were still single-glazed (as I found out, this wasn’t, and still isn’t, all that uncommon in New Zealand). But it had a massive garden, a vegetable patch, amazing mature trees, and—most importantly to my husband—a four-car garage. As we walked out, he said, Wow, that house is amazing.  I said, almost at the same time:  Oh my God, that’s the ugliest house I’ve ever seen. Having just spent weeks looking at perfectly staged open homes, I couldn’t see past the outdated interior. But my husband could. He saw the potential (location, location), the space, the possibilities. And within a few days, I succumbed to his vision. We bought the house, even though we wouldn’t come to live in New Zealand until over a decade later. Years later, after extensive renovations, we still have—and now live in—that house. It’s an old soul with a new life, and I’ve grown to love it. Even now, after all these years, I still go to open homes. I can’t help it. I love seeing what’s out there, how people live, and what choices they’ve made for their spaces. Just yesterday, we visited a converted church—a massive, medieval-style home that, according to the agent, took the owners 10 years to renovate. For a moment, I let myself dream: What would it be like to live in a place like this? Of course, practicality takes over—heating it would be so expensive, maintenance would be endless. But in that moment, the dream is enough. I think, deep down, I have a longing for a big, shared space—a Moroccan-style villa with a courtyard, a large communal kitchen, a place where extended family lives together, where young and old are intertwined in daily life. I believe something is missing in modern life: multi-generational living, where older people still have a role to play in younger people’s lives. Open homes also make me reflect on the passage of time. No matter how much effort we put into our homes, eventually, we leave them. Someone else moves in, makes changes, and creates their own life in that space. It makes me wonder how much of it is truly worth it. I try to remind myself that the purpose of a home is to enable us to live—to provide a space where we can do the things that matter most to us. It’s not the end in itself but a means to an end. But then, I think about our house—the one I initially thought was the ugliest I’d ever seen—and I know that, sometimes, it is worth it. Sometimes, the project, the effort, the transformation—it’s all part of the story. Just not too much of it, as I reflected in this article.  Because there is always more your could do. Or where it becomes an end in itself, as it was for the main character in this short story I read recently about a woman contemplating her life choices as she approaches retirement. Tonight, she was desolate in her bed once more, fifty years old, freshly retired; there would be no children, and the house was at last finished. What she wouldn’t give to be in a tight crawl space, sprinkled with squirrel turds, running wire. The profound pleasure of figuring things out, then doing them. All she had to look forward to from now on was rest. One could not build elaborate castles in one’s mind out of rest; it was like drawing negative space. Ungrateful, she knew herself to be. But, still, she felt the darkness in her grow. It can become all-consuming, I suppose, and possibly the open homes help me scratch the itch. Then I come back to my perfectly adequate, functional, warm, imperfect home and settle with a cup of tea and a book, but not another home improvement project.

Culture

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A Room of My Own 10 months ago

January 2025: Notes

Previous Log: December 2024 January was all about refining my notes and personal knowledge management. I guess it's that time of year—new year, new beginnings. And questioning whether I need this blog at all (still undecided). I read five books in January—all fiction. I usually have a nonfiction book in the mix, but this time, I was in the mood for some good old storytelling. Luckily, I picked some great reads. Below are the books and my Goodreads reviews in the order I read them. Fraud by Anita Brookner First read of 2025, and what a great start! This was my first Anita Brookner, and I absolutely loved it. Anna, the main character, and her transformation were amazing to follow. The other characters, while maybe a bit predictable, still felt so real to me—I could picture them all clearly/vividly. The story held my interest from start to finish. I enjoyed this book so much that I’ve already suggested her Hotel du Lac for my book club’s 2025 pick, and I can’t wait to dive into that one. Brookner is definitely an author I’ll be reading more of this year! Tara Road by Maeve Binchy I really enjoyed the first half of this book. It was lighthearted and vivid, and I liked the characters (even though they were somewhat one-dimensional). It was a good book to sit with in my garden and just lose myself in. However, halfway through, new major characters were introduced, and I found I didn’t want to invest my time in them anymore. I skimmed the rest. Then I watched the movie, which was quite unimpressive, but at least it started from the middle of the book, which made more sense. My first Maeve Binchy. Midwinter Break by Bernard MacLaverty This book started off great, with vivid, relatable characters and exceptional writing. The story, centered on an elderly couple at a crossroads, was very interesting to me, but towards the middle, the stream of consciousness and frequent POV switches became too much for me. (Maybe I am just too impatient or not in the right mood for this kind of book.) There were many small revelations throughout, it got a bit tiring. I think it might have been a bit too literary for my taste. Sewing Moonlight by Kyle Mewburn I really enjoyed this book. It’s one of those stories you can’t put down, the kind you look forward to all day. As someone who reads mostly at night before bed, I found myself going to bed early just to dive back into it. Living in Otago, New Zealand, I found the book incredibly relatable. The descriptions of the people, climate, and landscape resonated with me, making it easy to picture the events as they unfolded. The details about life during the Great Depression and the World Wars were eye-opening. Although the wars took place elsewhere, the book captures their impact on New Zealand, something I hadn’t considered in depth before. It felt like the author really did their research. It also made me realize that I, as a townie, was completely romanticizing true self-sufficiency like Wilhelm’s. It’s a lot of grueling hard work and worry. The author vividly describes the alternative gardening style introduced by Rudolph Steiner, diving into details without ever being boring or wordy. The writing is both beautiful and engaging. The author also builds tension remarkably well. I constantly worried about Wilhelm and felt his loneliness throughout. There was one detail I wonder about: when Wilhelm arrived on his boat, did he have to register or obtain residency? The book doesn’t mention it, and I wondered if such formalities existed back then (1928). It seems he simply sailed in and settled, which might have been more straightforward in those days, at least in terms of documentation. I loved the detail and character building, especially Wilhelm. Some of the other characters felt a bit flat, a bit one-dimensional, but it didn’t take away from the story. Towards the last 30% of the book (I read it on Kindle), it started to feel more like a contemporary romance, which was a bit different from how it started, but I still enjoyed it. In the end, it’s an easy five stars from me. Heart of the Night  by Naguib Mahfouz Mahfouz is one of my favorite writers, and his Cairo Trilogy will forever remain one of my favorite books. He has an incredible ability to transport readers so deeply into his world. Although I read the Cairo Trilogy in English, I find that Mahfouz reads better in Bosnian (my mother tongue) translation. This is probably because of the many Arabic words that were adopted during the centuries of Ottoman rule and don’t need to be translated. Additionally, the worldview feels somewhat similar and familiar. Heart of the Night (Srce noci) is a quick read, filled with wisdom about the meaning of life, happiness, passion, faith, and more. I also want to add this superb short story I read called Between the Shadow and the Soul by Lauren Groff about a woman contemplating her life choices as she approaches retirement. She experiences a mix of emotions about her marriage, her friendships, and her identity. A few highlights that resonated with me, especially as someone who took what was meant to be an early retirement. Friends kept shouting in Eliza’s ear, asking what she was going to do with her days now, and she kept shouting back, Nothing, glorious nothing! Yes, she coveted it—letting the tea go cold on the kitchen table, the stacks of books, the lazy expanse of days. Tonight, she was desolate in her bed once more, fifty years old, freshly retired; there would be no children, and the house was at last finished. What she wouldn’t give to be in a tight crawl space, sprinkled with squirrel turds, running wire. The profound pleasure of figuring things out, then doing them. All she had to look forward to from now on was rest. One could not build elaborate castles in one’s mind out of rest; it was like drawing negative space. Ungrateful, she knew herself to be. But, still, she felt the darkness in her grow. I’m still in holiday mode, so there’s a lot of lying around watching movies. Tara Road – I watched this after reading the book. It’s pretty corny, but at least it started in the middle, which is where the book should’ve started. I skipped some parts—it got a bit boring. Gladiator – Watched this for my son’s birthday—his pick. It’s probably the fifth time I’ve seen it, but I still love it every time. Red Sparrow – Watched this half-heartedly with my husband while I was sorting out notes in Bear. Burlesque – Watched with my husband. Always enjoy Cher. The Whole Truth – Watched with my kids. Our first Thai movie, with English subtitles. It wasn’t great, a bit over the top, but we kept watching, even if we fast-forwarded through some scenes to get to the scary part. Promising Young Woman – Watched with my husband. Not bad. But not that good either. It kept me watching though. I hate the ending. I, Robot – Watched with my kids. I’d love to live in a world of AI servants—more like the world from the Robots and Empire book. This is probably my 10th time watching this superb movie. They don’t really make these “rewatchable” movies anymore. As a family, we’re still watching The Resident and are two episodes away from finishing Season 6, the final season. On my own, I’m watching the latest season of New Amsterdam . My son and I watched the Norwegian show La Palma about a tsunami, and we really enjoyed it. I still haven’t finished  Nurse Jackie  but it’s just temporarily on pause.

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A Room of My Own 10 months ago

How I Finally Settled on Bear for My Notes

For the past few weeks, as I wrote about it here and here, I’ve been on a quest to streamline my note-taking system—something that works across all my devices, is easy to use, and, most importantly, actually gets used. As much as I love Obsidian, it just wasn’t cutting it for me. The biggest issue? Accessibility. I couldn’t use it at work on my work computer any more (new company policy and Obsidian has no web version) and even though I synced via Dropbox between my Mac and PC (for personal use), it still didn’t fit seamlessly into my daily routine. I subscribed to Obsidian Sync for a year, hoping it would bridge the gap, but it sat unused. I just didn’t like the app. Day One easily replaced Obsidian’s daily note feature, and I still don’t understand why it took me so long to realize how amazing Day One is for my memory-keeping and journaling needs. So, I started researching alternatives to Obsidian. I wanted something accessible everywhere—especially on my phone, the one device that’s always with me. But I also needed it to work well on a desktop and have strong backlinking between notes. And it had to be simple. Even with Obsidian, I kept my setup minimal, using just a few plugins—my focus was on writing. As I mentioned in the previous post  on this topic, Notion seemed like an obvious choice. I like it and have used it for learning for years. I even found a nice Personal Knowledge Management template. I was truly going to give it a go. But Notion’s import process was a disaster. It would handle 50 or 100 notes before failing, and then it wouldn’t work at all. And these were just simple markdown files. I tried every workaround—Mac, PC, web, Notion app, breaking my notes into smaller batches. Nothing worked. I even considered opening a separate Notion account just for PKM, but without a reliable way to bring in my old notes, it wasn’t worth it. So, the search continued. I tried multiple apps, and then I found Bear. Bear was instant love. It was intuitive, smooth, and incredibly easy to use on my phone, iPad, and MacBook Air. Importing my 1000+ notes took seconds. It felt perfect. And it was very reasonably priced. Except…I don’t live in the Apple ecosystem. I use a PC at work and for personal use I have both. Bear has no web version. And while they say a web version is in the works, it’s not even in beta yet, so who knows how long that will take? I reluctantly gave up on Bear and tried more apps, but nothing felt as good. I even considered going back to Obsidian Sync, but after using Bear, I just couldn’t. After reading this article, I started a two week Bear trial and … made a decision—Bear was the one, and I was going to make it work. This whole process forced me to rethink my entire digital workflow. When I moved my files out of Obsidian, I realized I didn’t actually have that many non-text files—just a few PDFs and images floating in the attachments folder. I labeled it “Obsidian Backup” and moved it into my Dropbox under a folder called “Mementos,” where I keep all my old writing and digital artifacts dating back to the ’90s. It’s a nice little archive that I don’t use often but like having/can’t bear to part with. This cleanup spiraled into a full digital declutter. Since Notion doesn’t have an archive feature—meaning old notes still show up in search results—I moved what I needed to Bear, labeled everything else “Archive” in Notion, and left that account as a read-only backup. Now, my main setup looks like this: Bear for notes and PKM Day One for journaling and mementos Trello for day-to-day tasks and perosnal project management Dropbox for file storage Apple Notes for personal info and quick notes Once (if?) Bear launches a web version, I might fully transition from Apple notes to Bear, but for now, this setup works. Then, I read an article about engaging with your Bear notes: How A Hidden Feature in Bear Changed the Way I Review Notes It inspired me to review my notes daily, right on my phone’s Bear widget, and it’s been a game-changer. I found ideas I’d completely forgotten about, that were buried deep in Obsidian for years. What do I miss from Obsidian? The graph view. Not the full overwhelming web of notes, but the ability to click on a note and see all its connected notes several layers deep. Bear doesn’t have that (as far as I know), but it’s a small tradeoff for actually using my notes instead of just collecting them. Speaking of collecting (and simplifying) —another big change - I decided to cancel my Readwise subscription. Yes, I read a lot, and I use Kindle heavily, but I don’t need my highlights constantly synced. I read a book, I move on. I have my highlights in Goodreads and I will manually import future book highlights to Bear. I also used Readwise Reader for RSS feeds and Read-It-Later articles, but the reality? I never actually read most of the articles I save. Every few months, I’d just delete the entire backlog and start over. I don’t need to collect. I need to do. Now, Bear is my Read-It-Later tool. It has a fantastic web clipper, especially on my phone, and I’ve started clipping articles directly into Bear. They will sit in “uncategorized” notes and if I don’t get around to reading them/processing them, I delete them. Simple. This helpful Apple Shortcut for Bear helps me clip parts of articles I read online directly to Bear. I also switched to a free RSS reader  , cutting down on another subscription and simplifying everything. I might miss some Readwise features, and with my legacy pricing, there’s a bit of regret in letting it go. But my subscription runs until April, so I could still change my mind. That said, I feel ready to simplify—consume less and create more.  Do fewer things. Bear for notes and PKM Day One for journaling and mementos Trello for day-to-day tasks and perosnal project management Dropbox for file storage Apple Notes for personal info and quick notes  They are all blue 😀

Writing Productivity

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A Room of My Own 10 months ago

Do Fewer Things, Do Them Well

If an obligation is taking up too much time: I quit. No one really cares what you do on a small scale. In the end, you’re judged on your large-scale list of important completions. Cal Newport The first time I read this quote, it hit me hard because I realized I was doing so many things on a small scale, scattering my energy and attention all over the place. And for what? I had nothing to show for it. And this, despite my efforts  to never do what doesn’t need to be done. Since then, I’ve managed to complete some of my half-done or barely-started degrees and tried to focus my energy on just a few meaningful things. But every time I free up a little time, I find myself frittering it away again. Like I mentioned in my latest posts , I end up collecting ideas, reorganizing, switching apps, basically tweaking everything but not actually doing anything significant. I start thinking I’m “working” on something of value, but in reality, I’m just playing around with ideas and tools. Sure, it’s fun, but is that really how I want to spend my free time? Should I instead be resting, reading books (which I love), or focusing on fitness and strength training—things that would genuinely add value to my life? That’s my goal this year, after all to focus on my fitness and strength training. But, of course, it’s always easier to tinker with apps than to put in real effort. This reminds me of what I say to my son when he spends too much time scrolling on his phone. He’ll feel tired or unproductive at the end of the day, and I always tell him: Doing something physical or something that requires effort will never make you feel that way. It’s the easy, mindless stuff that drains us. I know this is true, and yet, I still default to what’s easiest for me. This blog is another example of me trying to channel my energy into something productive—something that organizes all the knowledge I’ve collected into one place. But is it really productive? Or is it just another way to repackage other people’s ideas and add a few of my own thoughts? As I wrote in Blogging with Purpose in 2025 , what I’m envisioning for this blog is a place to organize and share reflections on books I’ve read, topics I’m exploring, and ideas I want to refine. But for what ultimate, bigger purpose? Is this really how I should spend my time? At 47 years old, I still wrestle with these questions. I know people who never care about the things I obsess over—like whether to use Notion, Obsidian, or Bear for their notes. Honestly, most people don’t even talk about stuff like this. Still, I’m fascinated by how people organize themselves. At work, I’m always curious about how others manage their notes and systems, but when I ask, people often look at me like it’s unimportant. For me, organizing information is a core part of my job as a project manager. I need to collect what’s important, retrieve it when necessary, and distribute it effectively. Yet, I see others doing fine with chaotic setups, even just using Word documents, and it makes me wonder if I’m the one overthinking. And then there’s this quote: Do fewer things but do them well (P.M. Forni, The Thinking Life). I try to live by that, but somehow, I still end up with too many things on my plate. There’s always more—more ideas, more tasks, more distractions. So here I am, caught between the endless stream of unnecessary things and the clarity that comes from doing less but doing it well. And focusing on that list of important completions. And why should this even be a blog post when it could have (should have!) been a journal entry? I don’t have the time (or energy) to cultivate a meaningful presence on blogs or social media—especially ones like these, without comments—where I’d actually get feedback on my thoughts. I already do a lot of journaling, and lately, since I started journaling and memory-keeping in Day One , I find that I can easily articulate most of this for myself as a stream of consciousness. But this isn’t the kind of polished, intentional writing I want to create. The posts I want to write are fully fleshed-out, with thoughtful solutions. Yet, I don’t have a complete solution to my (admittedly first-world) dilemma here. That said, I’ve been streamlining the number of apps I use—especially for note-taking and reading—and soon my default apps and digital workflow will be updated, simpler, and more focused. Hopefully, this will let me turn my attention to the physical world. Why keep a blog? When I started this, it made sense to me, but now I’m not so sure. I made a commitment to myself to live a thinking life —and i am no longer convinced a blog should be a part of it. Related Quotes Occupy yourself with few things, if you would be tranquil. Marcus Aurelius, Meditations. How we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives. What we do with this hour, and that one, is what we are doing. A schedule defends from chaos and whim. It is a net for catching days. It is a scaffolding on which a worker can stand and labor with both hands at sections of time. Annie Dillard

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A Room of My Own 10 months ago

Self-Centeredness vs. Selflessness: Keys to Understanding Happiness

What constitutes a good life has not been a mystery for more than two thousand years. The good life is a life nurtured by a healthy sense of self-worth, brightened by a positive outlook, warmed by a loving family and loyal friends, grounded in congenial and challenging work, and made meaningful by an involvement in something larger than ourselves. P.M. Forni, The Thinking Life Related posts: Life Without Envy                           Committing to the Thinking Life I recently came across this study and want to summarize it—mainly for myself, but hopefully, someone else might find it useful too. Michael Dambrun’s study, Self-centeredness and Selflessness: Happiness Correlates and Mediating Psychological Processes  breaks down two key mindsets—self-centeredness and selflessness—and how they impact our happiness. His Self-centeredness/Selflessness Happiness Model (SSHM) gives us a clearer picture of how these two ways of thinking shape the way we experience joy and contentment. The SSHM suggests that being self-centered and being selfless lead to very different results: Self-centeredness results in fluctuating happiness, characterized by temporary highs and lows, largely dependent on external circumstances. Selflessness leads to authentic, enduring happiness, marked by a stable sense of well-being and inner peace. Dambrun’s research, based on data from 547 participants, shows that self-centeredness (linked to egocentrism and materialism) and selflessness (focused on self-transcendence and connection) are not just opposites but unique ideas with a big impact on our happiness. Self-centeredness is all about personal gain, material stuff, and seeking validation. It gives you those short bursts of joy, but they don’t last. It’s like running after a mirage—just when you think you’ve got it, it’s gone. Plus, when things don’t go your way, you’re left feeling frustrated, jealous , or even angry, which affects your happiness. Selflessness , on the other hand, comes from feeling connected and thinking beyond just yourself. It helps you stay emotionally steady and find inner peace, making it easier to deal with life’s ups and downs. This kind of happiness isn’t about avoiding the bad stuff; it’s about rolling with it all, good and bad, with a sense of calm and balance. Dambrun’s study shows how these mindsets affect happiness through specific emotional processes: Self-centeredness fuels afflictive emotions like frustration, fear, and jealousy, which leads to happiness that comes and goes, never really sticking. Selflessness brings emotional stability and a sense of harmony, creating a lasting sense of contentment and peace. While we all know the saying, “money can’t buy you happiness,” we don’t always live by it. Especially in our increasingly individualized world (for those of us in Western countries), we often chase happiness through external achievements or material wealth. We tend to be largely self-centered, living in our own little bubbles, focused on our immediate families and avoiding anything that might inconvenience us or push us out of our comfort zones. (Note: This observation being my own, based on anecdotal evidence.) The research emphasizes the importance of cultivating selflessness—not as a rejection of self, but as a way to broaden our perspective to include others and the world around us. To find lasting happiness, the research suggests we need to move away from chasing self-centered desires and start focusing on building connections, showing compassion, finding inner balance. This might be nurturing your relationships, practicing mindfulness, or simply doing something kind for someone else. These are the things that help us feel more connected and at peace. Happiness isn’t one-size-fits-all, but understanding how self-centeredness and selflessness work can shed some light on why some joys are short-lived while others stick around. The SSHM gives a strong case for looking beyond ourselves to find a happiness that lasts. Personal Takeaway Unfortunately, I find myself largely in the self-centered camp. While it may be easier and more convenient to live that way in the short term, this study really resonates with me. It’s a reminder that I need to make a greater effort to look (and act!) beyond myself to find the lasting contentment I’m seeking. URL: https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC5429736/ Author: Michael Dambrun Title: Self-centeredness and selflessness: Happiness correlates and mediating psychological processes Self-centeredness results in fluctuating happiness, characterized by temporary highs and lows, largely dependent on external circumstances. Selflessness leads to authentic, enduring happiness, marked by a stable sense of well-being and inner peace. Self-centeredness is all about personal gain, material stuff, and seeking validation. It gives you those short bursts of joy, but they don’t last. It’s like running after a mirage—just when you think you’ve got it, it’s gone. Plus, when things don’t go your way, you’re left feeling frustrated, jealous , or even angry, which affects your happiness. Selflessness , on the other hand, comes from feeling connected and thinking beyond just yourself. It helps you stay emotionally steady and find inner peace, making it easier to deal with life’s ups and downs. This kind of happiness isn’t about avoiding the bad stuff; it’s about rolling with it all, good and bad, with a sense of calm and balance. Self-centeredness fuels afflictive emotions like frustration, fear, and jealousy, which leads to happiness that comes and goes, never really sticking. Selflessness brings emotional stability and a sense of harmony, creating a lasting sense of contentment and peace. building connections, showing compassion, finding inner balance.

Science

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A Room of My Own 10 months ago

The Notebook Fallacy: Why Ideas Are Cheap

I recently came across a fascinating concept Cal Newport calls the “notebook fallacy.” It’s the idea that professional thinkers don’t obsessively track their ideas because the real work, the real magic, happens in the execution, not in the idea generation itself. We sometimes think that coming up with an idea is the hardest part of creativity. So, we spend time meticulously organizing our thoughts, keeping notebooks, apps, or systems to capture every spark of inspiration. ( Guilty, guilty, guilty! This is how I procrastinate). According to Newport, the notebook fallacy suggests that too much energy goes into organizing ideas and not enough into extracting value from them. Creativity isn’t just about an idea or an insight. The real work is in solving problems, refining drafts, or building the product—whatever your craft may be. Execution is where it counts. High-level professionals aren’t afraid of someone stealing their ideas, Newport says. Why? Because they know the idea itself is just a starting point. The real challenge, and where their expertise shines, is in the execution. A professor isn’t stressed about someone else running with their research topic because they know the actual grind is in doing the research, analyzing the data, writing the paper. Writers aren’t hoarding book ideas. They know writing a good book is what most of us never manage to do and that ideas are cheap —it’s the execution that’s priceless. For those moving up in any creative hierarchy, the focus shifts from idea generation to execution. Ideas come and go, but the ability to turn an idea into a finished product, to solve the complex problems along the way—that’s where the true skill lies. This is exactly what Elizabeth Gilbert talks about in her excellent book Big Magic: Creative Living Beyond Fear . Don’t be afraid to just start; your ideas will meet you there. Ideas are a disembodied, energetic life-form…Ideas are driven by a single impulse: to be made manifest, she says. So, should we all stop tracking our ideas, notes, and abandon our digital gardens and Zettelkasten? Newport suggests that spending too much time on organizing ideas can be a distraction from the hard work of making those ideas come to life. Again, so guilty. If You Want to Capture Ideas, You Are Lost Committing to the Thinking Life Delete Your To Dos The Cost of Organizing Ideas – But I Keep Doing It Anyway

Career

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A Room of My Own 10 months ago

The Cost of Organizing Ideas – But I Keep Doing It Anyway

Lately, I’ve been thinking about the usability of my notes, especially since I’ve started moving my personal content over to Day One, as I mentioned here and here . My knowledge database, my digital garden , in Obsidian, complete with backlinks, has become pretty useless to me, mainly because I’m writing more on my blog now and often need my notes for reference. Pika makes it easy to write entire blog posts on my phone, so I can do it anytime, anywhere and I have been doing just that. But my notes are not on my phone, and I didn’t like using Obsidian Sync, even after a year. I do sync it with Dropbox, but I need access to my notes and backlinks both on the go and at work. I started looking into different note-taking apps, but since I already pay for several services and I use different apps for different things  I’m reluctant to tie myself to yet another one. Also nothing really stood out except for Bear 2. However, since I’m not fully invested in the Apple ecosystem, it doesn’t quite work for me. So I thought, why not move my notes to Notion? I use it daily as a central hub for many of my current activities and learning. I can access it on the web and on my phone. I found a great “zettlekasten” template on Notion and thought I’d give it a go, but the markdown import to Notion keeps failing, and maybe that’s a good thing. It may force me to go through my notes, refresh my memory, and make me decide what’s worth keeping. But is rearranging and sifting through my knowledge database I’ve built over the past decade worth my time and energy? Also I like Obsidian for my knowledge database—to store snippets and notes and short form writing because of its easy markdown export and awesome bidirectional linking, local storage and backup. So maybe I should give Obsidian Sync another go and solve my issue? And yet, despite believing in “the notebook fallacy” (a post to follow), I find myself caught up in an endless cycle of reorganization and overthinking. Instead of writing or editing my novel, which has been gathering dust since its manuscript assessment over a year ago, reading a book, playing a board game with my kids, exercasing and whatever … I’m here trialing apps and tinkering with my notes. Even though Bertrand Russell says (and I like to believe it) , “The time you enjoy wasting is not wasted time,” it still doesn’t feel like time well spent, because it’s not something that has to be done—I just feel compelled to do it. “There is nothing so useless than doing efficiently that which should not be done at all.” Peter Drucker Anyone else stuck in this loop? If You Want to Capture Ideas, You Are Lost Delete Your To Dos

Writing

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