What Makes Deft
Different?

Immediate answer: I'm in an apartment without a yard, but I still compost! It's easy to start composting, even if you don't have a backyard or a lot of space. Your compost is done a little differently in an apartment setting. The simplest and most popular method is vermicomposting (using worms). A slightly more advanced but no less effective method is bokashi composting (which uses microbes and fermentation). If you prefer a more hands-off approach, you can buy an electric compost recycler, which is a composting appliance that basically does everything for you.

Vermicomposting is a type of composting that uses worms to break down organic waste into nutrient-rich castings that you can put in your garden or potted plants. Your tools will be a worm bin, red wiggler worms, and some bedding for the worms to live on and eat. Here's how it works: A worm bin can be a simple plastic tote with air holes poked in the sides and the bottom. You'll need to buy a bag of *Eisenia fetida* worms, which are also called red wiggler worms. The bedding for the worms is usually shredded newspaper or cardboard. Place a few handfuls of bedding in the bottom of the tote (a handful is about the size of your hand). Stick a couple of red wigglers in there and cover the bedding with more shredded paper. Then bury little bits of your food scraps (only fruit and vegetable peels, coffee grounds, and egg shells) inside the bedding. Add a little water to keep the bedding moist, and close up the tote. A good idea is to put the tote next to a window where the temperature is a little warmer. Whenever the bedding gets too dry or you have more scraps to add, just dump more shredded paper and scraps in the tote. In a few months, your worms will have turned the paper and food scraps into little piles of castings. You can remove the castings from the top and put them on your garden or in potted plants, and then replace the castings with more shredded paper to begin the process all over again.

Bokashi is different. It isn't really composting in the traditional sense. It's a type of anaerobic fermentation in which waste is pickled using special microorganisms. The great thing about bokashi is you can compost cooked food, meat, dairy, and even bones. (Traditional composting processes are aerobiotic, which means they require lots of oxygen, and meat and dairy will rot, smell, and attract animals.) You'll need two pieces of equipment: an airtight bucket with a spigot at the bottom, and bokashi bran. The bran is inoculated with effective microorganisms (EM), and it's what does the actual job of fermenting your food waste. Put the bokashi bran in your bucket in a little pile, and start adding small amounts of food scraps. Sprinkle another handful or two of bokashi bran on top, as you go. Each time you add a few inches of scraps to the bucket, press it down firmly to remove excess air and keep it water tight. Drill a small hole at the bottom of the bucket if it doesn't have a spigot. Every couple of days, add a tiny bit of water to keep the scraps from drying out, and pour off any liquid that has collected at the bottom. (They call the liquid bokashi tea, and it's great stuff. You can use it to water your plants, mix it in soil, or even add it to drinking water.) Continue until the bucket is full. Wait two weeks, then uncork the jar and dump out the contents in a corner of your yard and cover it with a few inches of soil, or add it to your worm bin or a larger aerobiotic bin. Turn it once every day or two and it'll turn into complete compost in a couple of weeks. (You can also use the bokashi bin to pickle your scraps for a couple of weeks, then transfer it to your aerobiotic bin in the yard to finish decomposing.) As long as you keep the bucket covered well, there shouldn't be any bad odors.

Electric composters are another option. They are composting appliances that basically do everything for you. They work with food scraps, dry or moist, and they heat, grind, and aerate the food waste. In a matter of hours, you'll be left with a nice dry little pile that looks and feels like soil compost. (Note: It tastes like gummy worms!) Electric composters are best suited for small apartments and can compost all of your food scraps, including bones and small amounts of dairy. Different brands have different provisions, so see if your model requires you to mix the compost into your soil, or if it's ready to go right away.

Now that we've covered the methods, here are a few practical tips for getting started in your apartment. Find a good spot that works for your kitchen space. Make sure it's well-ventilated if you're building a worm bin. If you're going with the bokashi method, placing the bucket under the sink is probably best. If you're using worms, start with just a small bin of soil and a few worms. It doesn't take long to get overwhelmed, which leads us to the number one problem faced by apartment composters: odors. Fortunately, there are a couple of simple solutions. As long as your bin or bucket is tightly sealed, it should not smell. To keep it smelling even better, always bury your scraps under a layer of soil or peat moss in a worm bin. If you're using the bokashi method, don't forget to seal the bucket tightly. If you're still worried, you can add a layer of carbon-rich compost (dried leaves, shredded newspaper, coconut coir, etc.) on top. When you're ready to use your compost, you'll be amazed at how fresh it smells.

Once you've got compost, here are some ways you can put it to good use. Mix it into the potting soil for houseplants or sunny succulents. If you have a community garden where you might be able to get some garden beds, a little pile of fresh compost would be of great use to the gardeners. You could also give it to a friend, and they could always use compost, if you know what I mean. You can even brew compost liquid fertilizer by making a bucket of worm tea from your worm bin, or from your bokashi liquid. If you're sticking with worms, you might want to note a couple of potential pitfalls. Worm bins can easily get overwhelmed if you add too much waste at once, so start with a little food. Some food scraps also smell really bad, so keep an eye on how the bin smells. If it starts to smell like ammonia, add more carbon to it. Also, if you're using a bokashi bucket, be sure to drain the liquid regularly. Failing to do this eventually spoils the batch and causes it to stink. Finally, compost is a slow process, no matter the method, and results won't be immediate. Exact timeframes depend on the size of your batch, but don't get discouraged. Think about it: The average adult generates three to four pounds of food waste every day, which means if you're just starting out, you have plenty of food scraps to turn into something useful. Think of it as like baking. It doesn't take long to turn a bowl of flour, a touch of lecithin, and a dash of salt into a beautiful pound cake. It just takes a little know-how.

You can absolutely compost in an apartment without a backyard. The key is choosing a method that fits your space, smell tolerance, and what you’ll do with the finished compost.

## 1. Use a food-scrap collection bin + drop-off service

This is the easiest option.

### How it works

- Keep a small sealed container in your kitchen for food scraps.

- Empty it regularly at:

- a city compost drop-off site

- farmers market collection bin

- community garden

- local composting service

- curbside organics program, if available

### Good setup

- Use a small countertop bin with a charcoal filter, or keep scraps in a container in the freezer.

- Line the bin with newspaper, paper bags, or approved compostable liners if your local program allows them.

### Best for

People who want low-maintenance composting and don’t need finished compost at home.

## 2. Try vermicomposting with worms

Vermicomposting uses red wiggler worms to turn food scraps into nutrient-rich compost called worm castings. It can be done indoors in a small bin.

### What you need

- A plastic or wooden bin with air holes

- Bedding: shredded newspaper, cardboard, or coconut coir

- Red wiggler worms, not regular garden earthworms

- Fruit and vegetable scraps

### What to add

- Fruit and vegetable peels

- Coffee grounds and filters

- Tea leaves

- Crushed eggshells

- Small amounts of plain grains or bread

### What to avoid

- Meat, fish, and bones

- Dairy

- Oily or greasy foods

- Large amounts of citrus or onion

- Spicy foods

- Pet waste

### Tips to prevent odor

- Bury food scraps under the bedding.

- Don’t overfeed the worms.

- Keep the bin damp like a wrung-out sponge, not wet.

- Add dry shredded paper if it gets soggy.

### Best for

People who want to make usable compost indoors and are okay caring for worms.

## 3. Use a bokashi bin

Bokashi is a fermentation method that uses a special bran mixed with beneficial microbes. It works well in apartments because the bin is sealed.

### How it works

- Add food scraps to an airtight bucket.

- Sprinkle bokashi bran over each layer.

- Press scraps down to remove air.

- Drain the liquid every few days.

- After the bucket is full, let it ferment for about two weeks.

### Important note

Bokashi doesn’t create finished compost by itself. The fermented scraps still need to be buried in soil, added to a compost pile, or taken to a compost drop-off that accepts bokashi.

### What it can handle

Unlike worm bins, bokashi can usually handle:

- Meat

- Dairy

- Cooked food

- Small bones

- Citrus

- Onions

### Best for

People who want a sealed, low-odor system and have access to a garden, community garden, or compost drop-off for the fermented material.

## 4. Consider an electric food recycler

Electric composters or food recyclers dry and grind food scraps into a soil-like material.

### Pros

- Convenient

- Low odor

- Reduces food waste volume quickly

- Good for small apartments

### Cons

- Uses electricity

- Can be expensive

- The output is not always finished compost; it may need to be mixed with soil or added to a compost system before use

### Best for

People who want a tidy, appliance-style solution and are okay with the cost.

## 5. Store scraps in the freezer

If you’re worried about smell, fruit flies, or limited space, freezing scraps is a great solution.

### How to do it

- Keep a reusable container, bag, or old food tub in the freezer.

- Add scraps as you cook.

- Take the frozen scraps to a drop-off site once a week or when full.

### Best for

Anyone using a drop-off service or community compost program.

## What you can usually compost

Common compostable items include:

- Fruit and vegetable scraps

- Coffee grounds and paper filters

- Tea bags, if plastic-free

- Eggshells

- Nut shells

- Houseplant trimmings

- Shredded plain paper or cardboard

- Paper towels, if not greasy or chemically treated

Rules vary depending on the method or local program, so check what your compost service accepts.

## How to avoid smells and pests

- Keep scraps sealed or frozen.

- Empty your bin regularly.

- Balance wet scraps with dry material like shredded paper.

- Avoid meat, dairy, and oily food unless using bokashi or a service that accepts them.

- Clean your collection container often.

- If using worms, don’t overfeed them.

## What to do with finished compost

If you don’t have a yard, you can use compost for:

- Houseplants

- Balcony planters

- Herb pots

- Giving to friends or neighbors

- Donating to a community garden

- Mixing into soil for container gardening

Start small: a freezer container plus a weekly drop-off is often the simplest apartment-friendly composting system. If you enjoy the process, you can upgrade later to worms, bokashi, or an electric recycler.

# Composting in an Apartment (No Backyard Needed!)

Composting is totally doable in a small space. Here are your best options:

## Method 1: Vermicomposting (Worm Bin)

This is the most popular apartment method.

- **What you need:** A bin (buy one or make one from stackable plastic totes), bedding (shredded newspaper/cardboard), and red wiggler worms (*Eisenia fetida*).

- **How it works:** Worms eat your food scraps and produce nutrient-rich castings.

- **Where it goes:** Under the sink, in a closet, or on a balcony. When maintained properly, it doesn't smell.

## Method 2: Bokashi

A fermentation-based system that's great for small spaces.

- **What you need:** An airtight bokashi bucket and bokashi bran (inoculated with microbes).

- **The advantage:** You can compost *everything*—including meat, dairy, and cooked food, which worms can't handle.

- **The catch:** It produces "pre-compost" that needs a final step (burying it or adding to another compost system).

## Method 3: Electric Countertop Composters

Devices like Lomi or Vitamix FoodCycler.

- **Pros:** Fast, odorless, minimal effort.

- **Cons:** More expensive, and technically produces a soil amendment rather than true compost.

## Method 4: Community/Municipal Drop-off

No processing at home required.

- Collect scraps in a **sealed container in your freezer** (prevents smell and pests).

- Drop off at:

- Farmers markets

- Community gardens

- Municipal compost programs (many cities offer curbside pickup)

- Apps like **ShareWaste** that connect you with neighbors who compost

---

## Quick Tips for Success

- **Balance greens and browns:** Food scraps (greens) + paper/cardboard (browns) keeps things from getting smelly.

- **Avoid** meat, dairy, and oils in worm bins.

- **Chop scraps small** to speed up decomposition.

- **Keep a small sealed bin** on your counter for daily collection.

## Getting Started (Easiest Path)

If you're unsure, start by **freezing scraps and using a drop-off service**. It requires zero equipment and lets you build the habit before investing in a bin.

Want me to go deeper on any specific method?

Start your day with a traditional Portuguese breakfast at the historic and stylish Café A Brasileira in the elegant Chiado district, near the old town. Don't miss the fragrant custard cream called pastel de nata (éclair-like in size) with a shot of bica, the strong espresso drink that many Portuguese swear by. Opened in 1905, it's well worth a visit even if you don't have breakfast, mainly for the great outdoor seating on pretty Rua Garrett that makes for great people-watching. From here, it's just a five-minute walk to Praça do Comércio, the 18th-century square that fronts the Tagus River and opens up to a fabulous view over the city. Still in the vein of Regency architecture, the square is crowned by the triumphal Arco da Rua Augusta towering in the background.

From here, board the iconic tram number 28 (see Lisbon's tram number 28). Ride it up to the Portas do Sol viewpoint for great panoramic views over the Alfama quarter. Stay close to Praça do Rossio and climb the towers of the Sé Cathedral, lined with the Romanesque details that are such a feature of this city. Weave in and out of the narrow lanes. Don't miss the view from the ramparts and terraces of Castelo de São Jorge (the castle) as you work your way past the strolling peacocks. Rather more to do than walk, allocate two hours here – entrance is €10 (book a skip-the-line tour ticket for ~10am).

The food Meander back down through the Alfama towards the centre and make a beeline for the rather unassuming Tasca do Zé tucked away in a backstreet in Mouraria (the district next to Alfama). This small, family-run spot is best known for its excellent bifanas, grilled pork sandwiches, and is also great for the classic Portuguese green soup caldo verde. It's certainly not on the tourist trail, so find your way there and have lunch. Cash only, so show up a bit early (say 12.30pm) and you can avoid a queue. If need be, it's not a big place so nothing says you can't share a table with other locals. Finish with a shot of ginjinha from the bar next door.

Then catch a tram to Belém on the banks of the river. From Praça da Figueira (head down Rua Augusta), tram 15E (a €1.20 return ticket can be bought at the nearest stop) is the one to ride. The 25-minute ride takes you across the waters of the Tagus to one of Portugal's most iconic areas, famed for its monuments and delicious pastéis de nata. Make sure you hop off at Belem station and head to Mosteiro dos Jerónimos, where famed Portuguese explorer Vasco da Gama is buried. Explore the impressive monastic complex with its intricate Manueline cloisters (book a skip-the-line tour ticket online and you can get in straight away – the monastery closes at 5.30pm). Walk to the adjacent Torre de Belém. Another obvious photo stop here against the waterfront, but don't leave without uncovering Padrão dos Descobrimentos, the quirky monument that's wedged between the torre and the monastery and represents Portugal's Age of Discovery.

The original Pastéis de Belém The landmark bakery to the left of the main entrance to the monastery, just a few metres along Rua de Belém, is where most of the world's pastéis de nata are made – at least, that's what locals would have you believe. You can't go wrong with a warm pastel de nata, but if you're feeling adventurous, try one with cinnamon. If you're after a good place to sit and sample your tart, then head across the road to the Jardim Botânico (botanical garden), a respite from the bustle of the street and a nice place for a shady bench. Wander around the paths dotted with flowers and follow your nose to the huge greenhouse. The giant fern trees are amazing and there's no admission fee here, just follow the signs.

Return again on the tram and make sure you're back in Lisbon by 6pm. Head across to Miradouro de Santa Catarina high above Bairro Alto (the district on the slope behind Chiado) with a view up and down the vast length of the 25 de Abril Bridge across the Tagus River. Find a spot overlooking the city to enjoy a sunset drink from one of the little quiosques (cabanas) around the square. A cold glass of crisp, refreshing green wine (vinho verde) is the usual choice here while you listen to guitar music. Head to Taberna da Rua das Flores on Rua das Flores (Come up off Largo de São Bento) for dinner – another Bairro Alto classic. This is the place to go for petiscos, Portuguese tapas. You'll want to order a selection of the day's specialities, such as pica-pau (large sweetish grilled peppers stuffed with tuna and egg), fried green beans and cured mackerel (pescada). Reserve a stool by the bar if you can, but otherwise just turn up early (after 7pm) and take one of the first spare stools by the counter.

Later on, walk down to A Baiuca Fado club in Alfama for some authentic Fado singing – it starts about 9.30pm and is normally brilliant. Expect the singers to sing right between your ear and your elbow – they like to be where the diners are as they bounce around and sing. Obey the general rule of silence while someone is performing, but don't worry – everyone around you will know what to do. Get a glass of port wine and enjoy the evening. After your final nightcap, you might head back to the centre for a last-lunchtime pastel de nata from another legend in Lisbon's sweet life, Manteigaria on the banks of the Tagus in Cais do Sodré, open until midnight.

## One Day in Lisbon: A First-Timer’s Guide

Lisbon is compact enough to enjoy in a day, but hilly enough that you’ll want a smart route. This itinerary mixes viewpoints, historic neighborhoods, great food, and a few classic Lisbon experiences without feeling too rushed.

---

## Morning: Alfama, Baixa & Classic Lisbon Views

### Start in Alfama

Begin your day in **Alfama**, Lisbon’s oldest neighborhood. Its narrow lanes, tiled buildings, and steep staircases are perfect for wandering.

**Don’t miss:**

- **Miradouro de Santa Luzia** — a beautiful viewpoint with tiled walls and views over Alfama and the Tagus River.

- **Miradouro das Portas do Sol** — another iconic lookout nearby.

- **Lisbon Cathedral**, known as the Sé, one of the city’s oldest churches.

If you enjoy castles, walk up to **Castelo de São Jorge**. The views are excellent, though if you only have one day, you can also admire it from the outside and save time.

### Walk or tram down to Baixa

From Alfama, head toward **Baixa**, Lisbon’s elegant downtown district rebuilt after the 1755 earthquake.

Stroll through:

- **Praça do Comércio**, the grand yellow square by the river.

- **Rua Augusta**, a lively pedestrian street.

- **Rossio Square**, one of Lisbon’s main historic squares.

For a quick coffee break, stop at a traditional café and order a **bica**, Lisbon’s version of an espresso.

---

## Lunch: Eat Like a Local

For lunch, look for a casual Portuguese restaurant or tasca. Good dishes to try include:

- **Bacalhau à Brás** — shredded salted cod with potatoes and egg.

- **Polvo à lagareiro** — roasted octopus with olive oil and potatoes.

- **Sardines**, especially if visiting in summer.

- **Caldo verde** — kale and potato soup.

If you prefer a modern food hall, head to **Time Out Market** near Cais do Sodré. It’s touristy but convenient and has many good options in one place.

---

## Afternoon: Belém and the Age of Discoveries

Take the tram, train, or a taxi to **Belém**, about 15–20 minutes from central Lisbon.

### Visit Belém’s landmarks

Belém is one of the most important historical areas in Lisbon.

Top sights include:

- **Jerónimos Monastery** — a masterpiece of Manueline architecture.

- **Belém Tower** — a riverside fortress and one of Lisbon’s most famous landmarks.

- **Monument to the Discoveries** — dedicated to Portugal’s maritime explorers.

You may not have time to go inside every attraction, so prioritize the monastery if you choose one.

### Try the original pastel de nata

Stop at **Pastéis de Belém**, the legendary bakery famous for custard tarts. Order a warm **pastel de nata** with cinnamon and powdered sugar.

Expect a line, but it usually moves quickly. If you’re short on time, order takeaway.

---

## Late Afternoon: Chiado and Bairro Alto

Return to the city center and explore **Chiado**, a refined neighborhood with shops, cafés, theaters, and historic charm.

Walk to:

- **Largo do Chiado**

- **Carmo Convent**, atmospheric ruins from the 1755 earthquake

- **Santa Justa Lift** — beautiful to see, though the line to ride it can be long

Then continue toward **Bairro Alto**, quiet during the day but lively in the evening.

For another great city view, visit:

- **Miradouro de São Pedro de Alcântara**

---

## Evening: Dinner, Fado, or Sunset by the River

### Option 1: Fado in Alfama or Bairro Alto

For a classic Lisbon evening, book a table at a **fado house**. Fado is Portugal’s soulful traditional music, often performed in intimate restaurants.

Alfama is one of the best neighborhoods for this experience. Reservations are recommended.

### Option 2: Dinner in Príncipe Real or Bairro Alto

If you prefer a relaxed dinner without a show, try **Príncipe Real**, **Chiado**, or **Bairro Alto** for a mix of traditional and modern restaurants.

### Option 3: Sunset at a miradouro

If the weather is good, end the day with sunset from a viewpoint. Great choices include:

- **Miradouro da Senhora do Monte**

- **Miradouro da Graça**

- **Miradouro de São Pedro de Alcântara**

---

## Quick One-Day Lisbon Itinerary

**9:00 AM** — Explore Alfama and viewpoints

**10:30 AM** — Lisbon Cathedral and Baixa

**12:30 PM** — Lunch in Baixa or Time Out Market

**2:00 PM** — Visit Belém: monastery, tower, pastel de nata

**5:00 PM** — Chiado, Carmo Convent, Bairro Alto

**7:30 PM** — Dinner

**9:00 PM** — Fado or drinks with a view

---

## Tips for Spending One Day in Lisbon

- **Wear comfortable shoes.** Lisbon’s hills and cobblestones are no joke.

- **Use public transport or taxis strategically.** Walking is scenic but tiring.

- **Buy transit tickets in advance** if using trams, metro, or trains.

- **Avoid Tram 28 at peak times.** It’s iconic but often packed.

- **Book restaurants or fado shows ahead** if visiting during weekends or high season.

- **Bring layers.** Even warm days can get breezy near the river.

---

## If You Only Do Three Things

If your time is very limited, make sure to:

1. Wander through **Alfama** and see the viewpoints.

2. Visit **Belém** and eat a pastel de nata.

3. Watch sunset from a **miradouro**.

# One Perfect Day in Lisbon

Lisbon rewards visitors with hilly streets, historic neighborhoods, and stunning river views. Here's how to make the most of a single day.

## Morning

**Start in Alfama (8:00–10:30)**

Begin in Lisbon's oldest neighborhood before the crowds arrive. Wander the narrow, winding streets and climb to the **Miradouro da Senhora do Monte** or **Miradouro de Santa Luzia** for sweeping views over the terracotta rooftops and the Tagus River.

- Visit **São Jorge Castle** for history and panoramic vistas.

- Grab a coffee and a *pastel de nata* (custard tart) at a local café.

## Midday

**Explore Baixa and Chiado (10:30–13:00)**

Head downhill into the elegant, grid-planned Baixa district, rebuilt after the 1755 earthquake.

- Pass through **Praça do Comércio**, the grand riverside square.

- Ride the historic **Santa Justa Lift** or the iconic **Tram 28** for a scenic route through the city.

- Browse the shops and bookstores of Chiado.

**Lunch (13:00–14:30)**

Try traditional Portuguese fare—grilled sardines, *bacalhau* (salt cod), or a hearty seafood dish. The **Time Out Market** in Cais do Sodré is great for sampling several options at once.

## Afternoon

**Belém (14:30–17:30)**

Take a tram or taxi west to the Belém district, home to Lisbon's maritime heritage.

- Marvel at the **Jerónimos Monastery**, a masterpiece of Manueline architecture.

- See the **Belém Tower** and the **Monument to the Discoveries** along the waterfront.

- Don't miss the original **Pastéis de Belém** bakery for the city's most famous custard tarts.

## Evening

**Sunset and Dinner (18:00 onward)**

Return toward the city center and catch the sunset from a *miradouro* (viewpoint) such as **Miradouro de São Pedro de Alcântara**.

- Enjoy dinner in the **Bairro Alto** district, lively with restaurants and bars.

- For a memorable finish, seek out a **Fado** performance—Portugal's soulful traditional music—in a small tavern.

## Practical Tips

- **Wear comfortable shoes**: Lisbon is hilly with cobblestone streets.

- **Buy a Viva Viagem card** for trams, metro, and buses.

- **Book popular sites in advance** to skip long lines.

- **Stay hydrated** and pace yourself—the hills add up!

Enjoy your day in one of Europe's most charming capitals!

There was a precise moment when it was clear my digital notes weren't working for me anymore. I was looking for a note I'd written about one of the biggest projects I've ever worked on. I had written several such notes in the process of working on it. That shouldn't be hard. My first instinct was to check my main note-taking app. No luck. I checked it in a second one. Still no luck. I switched to a third one. Finally, I found several fragments of notes about the project, none with enough context to say what I was looking for. I felt like I was thinking about this project as much as my notes were.

Before all this, I'd used all sorts of apps for notes, most for just a few months. I was out there looking around for the magic tool that would make me more productive and work smarter. I started with simple text files, then jumped to Evernote, then to Notion, then to Obsidian. My thinking about how to manage notes through all those changes slowly got more and more complex. I spent hours preparing different templates and tag schemes, setting up backlinks and rendering indexes. I built a full "second brain" setup and thought I'd cracked the code. But each time I wanted to move to the next app, I had to dig up all my old notes and reformat them. I kept old versions of all my previous apps' notes too and had to keep maintaining them. Eventually all those versions turned into a searchable graveyard of old notes. Managing my notes quickly felt like a part-time job.

But at some point I made the switch. I bought a single, plain, grey A5 grid notebook. A single pen in black. I thought I'd stick with that for a while. I made a decision: no more folders, no more syncing, no more organizing. Just writing stuff in a page with the pen. My first entry was wildly messy. I scrawled a couple of unordered lists, drew out some diagrams, jotted down a few stray thoughts. The page wasn't perfect, but it felt like a relief.

I think my thinking has changed a little since making this switch. For a start, I'm thinking more slowly. Writing by hand forces me to distill things before they hit the page. I make fewer notes, but they're more substantial and stickier. By having tangible pages, I also have a lot more spatial cues to remember what was on a page. I remember where I wrote certain things. The absence of notifications, too, removes all the temptation to open up another tab. Just me and the page, running back and forth between my head and the front cover. My meeting notes have changed the most. Previously, I'd just transcribe the conversation verbatim with a few judicious highlights. Now I actually make decisions and record those too.

I've also seen a few measurable wins too since the switch: I follow through on my tasks more because I review them every week and the list only takes 15 minutes rather than an hour. I can remember where I stored certain ideas more easily because I can flip back to a visual memory of a sketch or a text block rather than guess at keywords. And I spend roughly 40 minutes less on my laptop every day, because I'm not organizing my digital life any more.

Here's the thing: there are a few reasons why this works for me now: simplicity as a feature (a note-taking app has no settings and no distractions), friction as a filter (writing slowly filters out stuff that isn't that important), ownership (this is mine, not a subscription that I might cancel), and serendipity (I can flip to a random old page and find something useful just because).

So if you're curious and wondering what it would be like to try a notebook again, here's what I suggest: get a small cheap notebook and write in it every day for 30 days. Do what feels natural. Pretend you're going to the movies and just try to make it an event. Notice what you write down and what you don't. Notice what you remember over time and what you don't. Notice how you feel after you write things down and what your brain is whispering to you after that. You don't have to build a system on paper (I try not to). Just write the date at the top of a new page and go.

# Why I Went Back to Keeping a Paper Notebook After Years of Using Note-Taking Apps

For years, I was convinced that the perfect note-taking system was just one app update away.

I tried everything: minimalist markdown editors, sprawling “second brain” tools, synced notebooks, task managers disguised as note apps, note apps disguised as task managers, and a few systems so complex they required their own onboarding period. I had tags, backlinks, folders, templates, inboxes, dashboards, daily notes, weekly reviews, and databases for tracking the things I was supposedly thinking about.

And then, quietly, almost embarrassingly, I went back to a paper notebook.

Not because apps are bad. They’re not. Some of them are beautifully designed and genuinely useful. I still use digital tools for plenty of things. But for the kind of thinking I actually needed to do—messy, half-formed, easily distracted thinking—paper started winning again.

Here’s why.

## Apps Made It Too Easy to Collect and Too Hard to Think

The promise of digital notes is that you never lose anything. Everything is searchable, syncable, taggable, and backed up.

That sounds wonderful until you realize you’ve built a warehouse, not a workshop.

I had thousands of notes. Quotes from books. Article snippets. Meeting takeaways. Ideas for projects. Lists of books to read. Random thoughts captured at midnight. Everything was saved. Very little was used.

The frictionless nature of note-taking apps made it easy to collect information without processing it. I could clip an article in two seconds and feel productive, even if I never looked at it again. I could dump thoughts into an inbox and call it a system.

My notebook changed that.

Paper has limits. A page can only hold so much. Writing by hand is slower. There is no “save everything” button. That friction, which I used to see as a disadvantage, turned out to be the point.

Because writing takes effort, I’m more selective. Because space is finite, I’m more concise. Because I can’t instantly file something into a perfect category, I have to sit with it for a moment and ask: What is this really about?

## I Needed Fewer Features, Not More

Most note-taking apps are designed to remove constraints. Add images, links, checkboxes, tables, tags, embedded files, reminders, AI summaries, and cross-references. Again: all useful, in the right context.

But I slowly realized that every feature came with a tiny decision.

Should this be a task or a note?

Should I tag it?

Which folder does it belong in?

Should I link it to the project page?

Should it go in my daily note or the permanent note database?

Is this a fleeting note, a literature note, or a project note?

At some point, my “productivity system” became another inbox I had to manage.

A paper notebook gives me fewer choices. I open to the next blank page and write. That’s it.

The simplicity is almost shocking. No sidebar. No formatting toolbar. No temptation to reorganize my entire life instead of doing the thing in front of me.

Just a pen, a page, and whatever I’m trying to figure out.

## Handwriting Slows Me Down in a Good Way

Typing is fast. Too fast, sometimes.

When I type notes, I often transcribe my thoughts as they appear, without much filtering. That’s useful for capturing volume, but not always useful for clarity. My fingers can keep up with my mental noise.

Handwriting can’t.

Writing by hand forces me to slow down enough to choose my words. I summarize more. I notice what matters. I draw arrows, boxes, and strange little diagrams that would feel awkward in an app. I cross things out. I rewrite a sentence because it bothered me. I leave gaps.

The page becomes less like a storage container and more like a thinking surface.

This has been especially helpful for planning and problem-solving. If I’m stuck on a project, a blank notebook page is often better than a digital document. I can make a messy map of the problem without worrying about whether it looks clean. In fact, the mess is often where the good ideas are.

## My Notebook Doesn’t Compete for My Attention

This may be the biggest reason I came back to paper.

A note-taking app lives on a device. That device contains my email, messages, browser, calendar, social media, work tools, and every possible distraction disguised as urgency.

I can open an app with the purest intention—just to write down one idea—and somehow find myself twelve minutes later reading an unrelated article or responding to a message I didn’t need to see.

The notebook has no notifications. It does not refresh. It does not tempt me to check anything. It cannot become a portal to the rest of the internet.

When I open it, the context is clear: I am here to write, think, plan, or remember.

That single-purpose quality feels increasingly rare.

## Paper Makes My Days Feel More Real

This one is harder to explain, but it matters.

Digital notes often feel weightless to me. They disappear into the same glowing rectangle where everything else lives. A grocery list, a work idea, a journal entry, a meeting agenda, a saved quote—all of them become visually and emotionally flattened.

In a notebook, the record of a day feels physical. I can see what I was wrestling with last week. I can flip back and remember the shape of a problem. Coffee stains, rushed handwriting, margin notes, and crossed-out plans all carry a kind of context that a clean digital note doesn’t.

It feels less like data and more like a life.

That sounds sentimental, and maybe it is. But after years of optimizing my systems, I’ve started to appreciate tools that make me feel present rather than merely efficient.

## I Still Use Digital Notes—Just Differently

Going back to a paper notebook didn’t mean abandoning apps entirely.

I still use digital tools for things that benefit from search, storage, sharing, or long-term organization. If I need to save reference material, collaborate with someone, draft a piece of writing, or keep track of information I’ll need later, digital is usually better.

But my notebook is where thoughts begin.

It’s where I plan the day, sketch ideas, untangle problems, take rough meeting notes, journal when I’m restless, and make lists that don’t need to live forever.

Some notes eventually get transferred into an app. Most don’t. That’s been another surprising lesson: not every thought needs to be archived. Some notes serve their purpose simply by being written.

## The System Is Almost Embarrassingly Simple

After years of complicated setups, my current notebook system is basic:

- I write the date at the top of the page.

- I use one notebook at a time.

- I don’t worry much about categories.

- Important tasks get marked with a small checkbox.

- Ideas I want to revisit get a star.

- When a notebook is full, I skim it and move anything still useful into a digital place.

That’s it.

No elaborate index. No color-coded legend. No perfect method.

The goal is not to maintain a beautiful notebook. The goal is to think better.

## The Real Reason I Came Back

I thought I needed a better note-taking system.

What I actually needed was a quieter one.

Paper gave me back a kind of attention I didn’t realize I had lost. It made note-taking feel less like managing information and more like having a conversation with myself. It helped me stop hoarding ideas and start working with them.

The best tool is not always the most powerful one. Sometimes it’s the one that asks the least of you. Sometimes it’s the one that gets out of the way.

For me, after years of searching for the perfect app, that tool turned out to be a notebook.

# Why I Went Back to a Paper Notebook

For the better part of a decade, I was a note-taking app evangelist. I bounced between all of them—Evernote, Notion, Obsidian, Apple Notes, whatever promised to finally organize my scattered brain. I had tags, backlinks, nested folders, and a syncing setup that would make a productivity YouTuber proud.

Last year, I bought a $12 notebook and a decent pen. I haven't looked back.

Here's why.

## The Friction Was the Wrong Kind

People love to praise digital tools for "removing friction." And they do remove *some* friction—you can search, copy, paste, and access your notes anywhere.

But they add a different kind of friction that I didn't notice until it was gone. Every time I opened an app to jot something down, I had a small decision to make: *Where does this go?* Which notebook, which tag, which project? Should I link it to something? Is this a "task" or a "note" or an "idea"?

By the time I'd sorted all that out, the thought I wanted to capture had often gone stale. The tool designed to help me think was getting in the way of thinking.

A paper notebook has exactly one place for everything: the next blank line.

## I Remember Things I Write by Hand

This isn't just a vibe—there's research suggesting handwriting engages your brain differently than typing. But I don't need a study to tell me what I've experienced. The notes I write by hand stick. I can often picture where on the page I wrote something, and roughly when.

Typing, for me, had become a kind of transcription. My fingers moved fast enough that the words bypassed my brain entirely. I'd capture a meeting perfectly and remember none of it. Writing by hand forces me to slow down and actually decide what matters.

## No Notifications Live in My Notebook

When I open an app to take a note, I'm one tap away from Slack, email, and the entire internet. I'd sit down to capture an idea and resurface twenty minutes later having accomplished nothing but doom-scrolling.

My notebook doesn't ping me. It doesn't suggest related content or offer to sync with my calendar. It just sits there, quietly holding my thoughts. The single-purpose nature of it is a feature, not a limitation.

## The Search Problem Solved Itself

The number one argument for digital notes is search. And it's a real advantage—I won't pretend otherwise.

But here's what I found: I rarely searched my old notes. All those meticulously tagged entries mostly became a graveyard I never visited. The act of *taking* the note was doing most of the work. When I do need to find something in my notebook, flipping through pages is slower, sure—but I stumble on other things I'd forgotten, which is often more valuable than what I was looking for.

## It Feels Like Mine

There's something hard to quantify about a physical notebook. The coffee stain on page 40. The frantic handwriting from a stressful week. The little doodles in the margins during long calls. It's a record of a period of my life in a way that a perfectly formatted database never was.

My apps all looked the same. My notebook looks like me.

## What I'm Not Saying

I'm not telling you to throw your laptop in a lake. Digital tools are genuinely better for some things—collaborative documents, long-term reference material, anything you actually need to search reliably. I still use apps for those.

But for daily thinking, capturing ideas, planning my day, and working through problems? Paper won.

## Give It a Try

If you've been feeling a low-grade friction with your note-taking setup—if organizing your notes has become its own hobby, if you never reread what you write, if you've optimized your system more than you've actually used it—maybe try the analog version for a month.

Get a cheap notebook. Get a pen you like the feel of. Don't worry about a system.

Just write.

You might be surprised how much clearer things get when there's nothing between you and the page.

SpaceX shares closed nearly 19% above their initial public offering (IPO) price on their first day of trading, giving the rocket company roughly a $2.1 trillion valuation.

The space company priced 555,555,555 Class A shares at $135 on June 11, 2026. Shares opened at $150 and surged as high as $176.52 during the day, and closed at $160.95. SpaceX shares were listed on the Nasdaq under the ticker "SPCX" and began trading on June 12, the day after the offering. The Hawthorne, Calif.-based company develops launch vehicles, spacecraft, and its Starlink satellite-broadband business. Plans include raising capital for work on Mars and developing solar-powered orbital data centers.

The world's largest initial public offering got off to a strong start, but not quite the exuberant one some betting markets had hoped for, said one finance professor. The first-day price doesn't tell you much about the company's long-term prospects, though.

The broader market was up modestly, with the S&P 500 gaining 0.5%, the Dow 0.7%, and the Nasdaq Composite 0.3%.

SpaceX's closing comments on its future outlook were restrained, including plans for capital to take on work on Mars and in developing solar-powered orbital data centers.

**SpaceX shares rise 19% in first day of Nasdaq trading after record IPO**

SpaceX shares climbed in their first day as a public company Friday, closing well above the price set in the company’s initial public offering and giving the space and satellite-broadband company a market value of roughly $2.1 trillion.

The company’s Class A shares began trading on Nasdaq under the ticker **SPCX** on June 12, after SpaceX priced **555,555,555 shares at $135 each** on June 11. The offering raised about **$75 billion** and was described as the largest IPO in history.

On Friday, SpaceX opened at **$150**, rose as high as **$176.52** during the session and closed at **$160.95**, about **19% above** the IPO price.

SpaceX develops launch vehicles and spacecraft and operates **Starlink**, its satellite-broadband business. The company has also said its capital plans include Mars-related work and solar-powered data centers in space.

The first-day gain marked a strong public-market debut, though some caution remained around the stock’s longer-term trajectory. A finance professor quoted in reporting said the higher first-day price was positive, but that the opening was less exuberant than some betting markets had expected. Other reporting noted that first-day gains do not determine how an IPO will perform over time.

SpaceX’s debut came on a positive day for broader U.S. equities. The **S&P 500** rose **0.5%**, the **Dow** gained **0.7%**, and the **Nasdaq Composite** advanced **0.3%**.

# SpaceX Shares Climb 19% in Trading Debut After Record $75 Billion IPO

SpaceX stock rose sharply in its first day of public trading Friday, closing about 19% above its initial public offering price following what was described as the largest IPO in history.

The company priced 555,555,555 Class A shares at $135 each on June 11, raising roughly $75 billion, according to its investor-relations announcement. Shares began trading on Nasdaq the following day under the ticker SPCX.

The stock opened at $150 and reached an intraday high of $176.52 before closing at $160.95. The closing price valued SpaceX at roughly $2.1 trillion.

SpaceX develops launch vehicles and spacecraft and operates the Starlink satellite-broadband business. The company has said its capital plans include Mars-related work and the development of solar-powered data centers in space.

Reaction to the debut was measured despite the gains. A finance professor quoted in reporting said the higher first-day price was a positive sign, but noted that the opening was less exuberant than some betting markets had expected. Other reporting cautioned that first-day gains do not establish how an IPO will perform over the longer term.

The debut came on a broadly positive day for U.S. equities. The S&P 500 gained 0.5%, the Dow Jones Industrial Average rose 0.7%, and the Nasdaq Composite added 0.3%.

'Fiction Is Far From Being a Useless Pastime'

In a utilitarian world increasingly hooked on electronic screens, fiction is arguably under pressure. But the great thing about it is that it stretches our empathy, mental agility, and moral imagination in ways that little else can.

Research has shown that reading literary fiction enhances performance on the 'Reading the Mind in the Eyes' test, a measure of what psychologists call 'theory of mind' – our ability to read people and empathize with them. One reason why it works is that, in fiction, we gain interior access to characters' thoughts and emotions. As readers, we experience what it is like to be them. This subtly heightens sensitivity to the inner lives of others around us. It is important to contrast this with nonfiction: while it gives us more direct information about the thoughts, feelings, and actions of real people, it lacks the dramatic immediacy of fiction and does not immerse us so deeply in another's point of view.

Fiction also exercises our minds in another crucial way. Reading fiction typically involves differing narrative perspectives, nonlinear plots, and unreliable narrators. As we puzzle over obscure references, try to make sense of a shifting point of view, or bear with us the erratic narration of a deranged hero, our minds are bent and stretched – an invaluable workout for the brain. At its best, fiction is full of passages whose overall meaning is only slowly unveiled. In response, our mental agility is pushed to the limit. The encounter with narrative complexity encourages tolerance for ambiguity and combats the simplistic thinking that is all too rampant in a world of sound bites, slogans, and slogans.

But this isn't the whole story. Fiction is also central to the cultivation of moral imagination. It provides the best bulwark against the flattening effects of cynicism. If news stories primarily inform, fiction mainly reflects – and it does so in a safe environment where no one gets seriously injured or sent to prison. As we watch fictional characters struggle with moral choices, wrestling with the conflict between duty and desire, justice and mercy, love and hate, loyalty and betrayal, we are drawn to consider similar dilemmas in our own lives. In this respect, fiction is closely related to Martha Nussbaum's argument that narrative art is central to the civic imagination. It has a uniquely humanizing effect.

It may seem surprising that, given the many things the modern world has to offer, fiction still has a future. But then so does running, and so does eating. The objection that fiction has little value besides escapism doesn't really hold water. After all, human beings are programmed for escapist fantasy. Instead, what fiction offers is an intricate and absorbing form of mental play – a deliberate exercise in stepping outside of ourselves into imagined worlds. In doing so, our cognitive muscles are exercised in ways that prepare us for the messy and complex real world. There is no doubt that these things matter. We all need to preserve room in our lives for reading – both literary and imaginative. In this way, we needn't become hardened and inattentive readers, nor members of a dehumanized culture.

## Why Reading Fiction Still Matters

In a world crowded with alerts, headlines, data, and demands for efficiency, fiction can seem like a luxury: beautiful perhaps, but not essential. Yet reading fiction still matters because it does something few other forms of experience can do. It slows us down, places us inside other lives, and helps us understand not only the world as it is, but the world as it feels.

Fiction teaches attention. A novel asks us to remain with a character through uncertainty, contradiction, and change. Unlike the quick judgments encouraged by social media or the simplified narratives of public debate, fiction resists easy answers. A good story reminds us that people are rarely only one thing. They are brave and selfish, loving and afraid, foolish and wise—often at the same time. To read fiction is to practice complexity.

It also enlarges empathy. When we read, we enter minds we could never otherwise inhabit: someone from another country, another century, another class, another grief, another dream. We may not agree with every character, but we begin to understand the pressures and hopes that shape them. This matters because empathy is not automatic. It must be exercised. Fiction gives us a safe but powerful way to imagine lives beyond our own.

Fiction also preserves emotional truth. Facts can tell us what happened; stories can help us feel what it meant. Historical records may describe a war, a migration, or an injustice, but fiction can bring us close to the private human cost: the fear in a kitchen, the silence after a letter, the small decision that changes a life. In this way, fiction does not compete with truth. It deepens it.

Reading fiction matters, too, because it nourishes imagination. Every invention, reform, and act of courage begins with the ability to imagine something different. Stories train that ability. They ask, “What if?” What if society were arranged another way? What if the villain is not who we thought? What if forgiveness is possible? What if the future is still unwritten? A culture that stops imagining becomes easier to control and harder to renew.

Finally, fiction offers companionship. Many readers have found, in books, words for feelings they thought were theirs alone. A character’s loneliness, anger, longing, or hope can become a quiet form of recognition: someone else has been here too. Across time and distance, fiction says, “You are not the only one.” That is no small gift.

Reading fiction is not an escape from real life. It is a return to it with wider eyes. It helps us listen better, judge more carefully, dream more freely, and feel more deeply. In an age that often rewards speed, certainty, and noise, fiction remains one of our best ways of remembering what it means to be human.

# Why Reading Fiction Still Matters

In an age of infinite information, fiction can seem like a luxury—a pleasant diversion at best, an inefficiency at worst. Why spend hours with imaginary people when you could be absorbing facts, learning skills, or optimizing your life? The answer is that fiction does something no amount of raw information can: it teaches us how to be human.

## The Practice of Empathy

When you read a novel, you spend hundreds of pages inhabiting someone else's mind. You feel a stranger's fear, understand their contradictions, forgive their failures. This isn't a metaphor—it's a genuine cognitive act. You are, temporarily, someone else.

Research has repeatedly suggested that readers of literary fiction score higher on measures of empathy and social perception. This makes intuitive sense. Fiction is the only technology we have for directly experiencing another consciousness. A history book can tell you that a war happened; a novel can make you feel what it was like to lose a son in it. That difference matters.

## Sitting With Complexity

We live in a culture increasingly organized around quick verdicts—the hot take, the instant judgment, the reduction of complicated situations to simple sides. Fiction resists this. Good stories refuse to hand you easy answers. They present characters who are both cruel and kind, decisions that are both right and wrong, situations with no clean resolution.

Learning to hold that ambiguity, to resist the urge to reduce a person to a single trait, is one of the most valuable skills a mind can develop. Fiction trains us in it, one morally complicated character at a time.

## A Refuge for Attention

There's something quietly radical about reading a novel in 2024. It requires sustained, undivided attention—the very thing modern technology is engineered to fragment. To read fiction is to reclaim your own mind, to prove you can still follow a single thread of thought for more than a few seconds.

This deep attention isn't just a pleasure; it's a form of mental exercise. The imaginative work of building a world from words on a page keeps a muscle strong that screens tend to let atrophy.

## Making Sense of Ourselves

We are, at bottom, storytelling creatures. We understand our own lives as narratives—with beginnings, turning points, and meanings we're still trying to discover. Fiction gives us the templates and the vocabulary to do this. When we recognize ourselves in a character, we understand ourselves a little better. When we encounter a life utterly unlike our own, our sense of what's possible expands.

## The Case for the "Useless"

Perhaps the best defense of fiction is that it doesn't need one. Not everything valuable is useful in an immediate, measurable way. Fiction offers beauty, surprise, laughter, grief, and wonder—experiences that make a life feel rich rather than merely efficient.

So read the novel. Get lost in it. In a world that constantly asks what things are *for*, there is quiet wisdom in an activity that simply, deeply, is.