The gratitude journal that writes back.
Jot down a few good things each day. Get a short letter in return. Watch your own patterns appear, one easy day at a time.
Never kept a journal before? It's just a few good things from your day, written down.
One email when Diri is ready. Nothing else.
Most days disappear.
Ask anyone what happened last Tuesday and they'll say "nothing much". That's rarely true. Ordinary days just don't leave a mark.
The bus that came early, the friend who called for no reason, the bread that was still warm. All of it is gone by Friday, and the week collapses into a feeling of having been busy.
A gratitude journal is the plainest way around that. Write down a few good things before you sleep, and they stay. It isn't about forcing yourself to feel grateful, or pretending a bad day was fine. It's about catching the small parts that are worth keeping, while you can still remember them.
Diri is that, with one difference: a small character lives in it, and writes back.
Nobody reads what you write — not me, not a server, not the character. The letters were written long before you arrived, the way pages in a book are written before anyone opens it. Your entries stay on your iPhone.
What a day looks like
Two minutes, most nights. You write what went well; the next morning there's a letter waiting.
Tonight · your entry
The letter back
Write a line or two, then press “I’m done”.
Try it. Nothing you type here is saved or sent.
What Diri does
Gentle prompts
For the days the page feels blank.
Daily letters
The companion in the box replies to what you wrote.
Your patterns
See which moments and moods keep coming back.
No streaks, no guilt
Miss a day? You’ll be welcomed back, not scolded.
What you actually get
A stretch of your life, readable
Your entries stay. After a few weeks you can scroll back through the days you actually had, instead of the blur you remember.
Patterns you'd otherwise miss
The same person keeps appearing. So does the same hour of the day, the same kind of small thing. Diri shows you what keeps coming back.
Something waiting in the morning
A letter from the box. It's a small thing, but it turns writing into a conversation instead of a chore.
Room for the heavy days
You don't have to be grateful for everything. Hard days go in too, and a missed day is just a missed day.
Diri is coming to iPhone. Leave your email and you'll know when.
Join the waitlistHow the thirty entries go
Thirty entries, at whatever pace suits you. Write most nights and that's about a month; write twice a week and it's longer. Nothing expires in between.
First few
You're strangers. The letters are short and a little shy. Mostly you find out that writing three lines takes two minutes. And that nothing bad happens if you skip a night.
Around ten
The letters get warmer and longer, and so do your entries, without you deciding to. Your Journal tab starts to look like a stretch of your life rather than a list. This is usually where people notice the first pattern.
Entry thirty
The box opens.
Who’s been writing to you?
Every letter comes signed, with the name blurred out. On your thirtieth entry, it comes into focus.
Thirty entries, in any order you like.
At entry thirty, one of these is yours. There are four, and nobody picks which one — not you, not me. It stays blurred until you get there.
Who it's for
You'll probably like Diri if
- you'd like to keep a little of each day, without keeping a diary
- you've tried journaling before and stopped, and want something lighter
- writing to someone sounds easier than writing to a blank page
- two minutes before bed is what you've got
Probably not for you if
- you want charts, scores and a running tally to keep you at it
- you're looking for therapy or a clinical mood tracker — Diri isn't either, and doesn't pretend to be
- you want to write pages; Diri is small on purpose
Questions
What do I write?
A few good things from your day. Big or tiny. If the page feels blank, Diri offers a prompt.
Do I have to write every day?
No. Write when you can, and come back when you can't. A missed day is just a missed day.
Does anyone read what I write?
No. Your entries live on your iPhone. The letters from the box are written ahead of time, so there's nobody on the other end. Not me, not a server.
What will it cost?
Free when it launches. A subscription will come later for the extra parts, and the free tier stays free. What you've written stays yours either way.
When is it out?
Not yet. Leave your email and you'll hear from Diri when it's ready.