Anything you want to keep doing has to be finishable in one gesture. The moment finishing takes two things, it will quietly stop.
Before the laws
Four systems for tracking a life died the same way: each one asked for a little more than a tap. A note. A date. A category. A voice memo to add one activity. None of it was unreasonable. All of it was fatal. The requirement killed the habit before the habit existed. The test is simple and unforgiving: for any screen, any ritual, any promise to yourself — what is required to finish? If the answer is more than one thing, cut until it isn't.
1 of 3
Nothing is required beyond the minimum.
Because every field after the first is a place to stop. Optional is fine. Required is a wall.
A few words. No date, no note, no category. If you want to add more, you can. You never have to.
2 of 3
Placement is suggested, never demanded.
Because sorting is a second gesture wearing a disguise.
Let the thing land wherever it lands. Move it later if you ever care to. Most days you won't.
3 of 3
The capture and the reflection are two different days.
Because asking someone to reflect at the moment of capture doubles the cost of capture. Capture now. Reflect when you return.
Write the word tonight. Read it back next week.
The practice
Take one thing you keep meaning to track and keep not tracking. Strip it until it's a single tap or a single word. Do that for a week. Add nothing.
You will not do what costs two gestures. Design for the one you'll actually make.