What is new.

Your own messages are the size of what you wrote 8.3.1 · Sep 15, 2026 · 22:58 UTC

A one-line question to Miya sat in a bubble a hundred and seventy pixels tall, the words at the top and the time stranded at the bottom with nothing between them. Your messages keep the line breaks you type, and the rule that does that was on the whole bubble rather than on the text, so the newlines and indentation that separate the message from its timestamp in the markup were being printed as real blank lines. Every message you sent carried three of them. The rule sits on the text now: a bubble is the height of what is in it, a line break you typed is still a line break, and a message of yours is the same height as a reply of the same length. Lists in replies had a version of the same problem from the other direction. A bullet is already its own line, but the newline that ended it was still being turned into a break as well, so a three-item list was drawn with a blank line after every item and read as six. The blank lines are gone and a gap you actually asked for, between a list and the paragraph after it, is still there.

One conversion for a month, and a day on the strip you can open 8.3.0 · Sep 12, 2026 · 04:36 UTC

Bills carried two answers to the same question. Income & surplus and Where the pay goes worked a fortnightly income out as 26 payments over 12 months; By income rounded it to two a month and read 7.7 per cent low, and every account split underneath inherited the gap, so an account with $247 of room to spare reported $80. A bill due every 90 days had it worse: the same rounding floored it to once a month, counting $300 four times a year as $300 twelve times, which put $200 of imaginary spending against whichever account it was paid from and dragged the 60-day look-ahead down with it. There is now a single conversion in the system and every panel goes through it, so two figures on one screen can no longer disagree. The sentence under a split income says how it is really paid as well as what that averages to — $1,816.58 every 2 weeks, 26 a year, and the two months that carry a third payday named rather than blended into the other ten. And the fourteen days across the top are a way in now, not a picture: tap any day to see what leaves on it, what each bill is for and the account it comes out of, open one to edit it, or mark it paid and watch it move to its next date.

An important date can remind you, and be finished instead of thrown away 8.2.0 · Sep 12, 2026 · 02:40 UTC

School’s important dates were a list that could only grow or be deleted. They carried notes, links and the photographed syllabus, and the only way to clear a date that had passed was to delete it, which took all of that with it. A date now takes a reminder of its own — the morning of, the evening before, or any number of days ahead at a time you pick — arriving the same way a task’s does, on the device and by push when the app is closed. And each one has a tick. Ticking it keeps the record and everything on it: the row steps back, struck through, and folds into a Show done group under the list, while the count at the top and the dates feed on Home both stop counting it. Reopening one starts its reminder again rather than treating it as already delivered, and a date that is done never nags.

An exempt account is decided by who it is, not by what Stripe is holding 8.1.1 · Sep 12, 2026 · 01:20 UTC

Administrators were exempt from the bank sync charge in three places, and all three spelled it the same wrong way: “no Stripe subscription was found”. That is a different statement. The subscription lookup finds a live subscription by the account’s email address alone, straight from Stripe, with no membership record involved, so an administrator who had ever subscribed with that address — which is to say whoever tests the paid flows — had bank quantities pushed onto it like any customer. Additional users had no administrator check at all: a seat was $8 a month on an admin account too. One gate decides it now, on who the account is, and every place money moves asks it before Stripe is called rather than after a lookup fails, so no line, quantity or invoice can be raised against an exempt account. Staff who are not administrators can be named in Settings. Renewal notices skip exempt accounts, because telling somebody what they are about to be charged when they are not is a lie with a number in it. And because exempting an account cannot cancel a plan somebody bought before they became an administrator, Settings lists every exempt account beside what Stripe actually holds for it, in red, so money still moving is visible instead of assumed gone.

Billing says the day it actually renews, and what the whole bill comes to 8.1.0 · Sep 11, 2026 · 20:10 UTC

The allowance has followed your plan’s own renewal day since the cycle was anchored to it: somebody renewing on the 13th gets their replies and minutes back on the 13th, not on the 1st. Billing never got the memo and kept printing “resets on the 1st”, a date that had not been true for months, while the call minutes gave no date at all. Both now name the real day, the server hands the date over rather than leaving the app to guess it, and the plan line gives the date instead of a bare weekday, because “renews Sun” is not a thing to plan money around. A new What you pay panel adds the second half: the plan, every linked bank and every additional user are three lines on one invoice, each of which had its own panel and its own number, so the total was arithmetic left to the person paying it. It is now one figure with the breakdown above it, quoted from the same options the charge is made from, and lines still loading say so rather than quietly totalling to less than the truth.

Until next paycheck answers account by account 8.0.9 · Sep 8, 2026 · 05:10 UTC

Bills leave the account each one is paid from, so a pooled figure could say you were fine while the account rent actually comes out of was short, or say you were short while the money was sitting in the right place all along. The panel now reads account by account: each account shows its balance, the bills paid from it, and what it has left or how far it is short, with the paycheck’s split added where an income lands in that account. An account that cannot cover its own is named first, even when the total clears, and the note says whether moving money between accounts fixes it. Bills with no paid-from set are kept in a group of their own rather than pushed onto whichever account came first, and every bill in the list now says which account it leaves.

Cash means the accounts a bill can be paid from, once 8.0.8 · Sep 8, 2026 · 04:00 UTC

Until next paycheck added every account together, cards and loans included, so a checking account with money in it could be netted against a credit card balance and a car loan and come out short before payday. Cash now means only the accounts a bill can actually be paid from: what an account IS decides it, not the sign of its balance, so a loan whose feed reports a positive number is still a loan, while a checking account that is overdrawn still counts, because that is money genuinely missing. The same rule now runs the cash position, the months of runway, the ninety-day forecast, the sixty-day look ahead and the accounts widget, so every cash figure in the app agrees with the others. Net worth counts a loan against you whichever sign it arrives with. And a re-linked bank could leave its old rows behind under the same names, so one car loan sat in the list twice, once as a $10,680 asset and once as the $10,360 debt Money actually holds; only the newest row for a name is counted now, the accounts table names the leftover with the date Money last wrote it, and one button removes it.

The front pages know a member; the installed app opens the app 8.0.7 · Sep 7, 2026 · 15:20 UTC

miya.life’s front pages offered Log in and Start free to someone already signed in, and the login page then said so. The login cookie is private to WordPress and unreadable by the pages, so the server now leaves a second, plain cookie on the parent domain that says only that you are in, cleared on logout; the pages read it and say Account and Open the app instead.

Tapping a family in the menu opened Rename 8.0.6 · Sep 7, 2026 · 14:10 UTC

On a phone, tapping a family’s name in the menu opened the Rename form instead of unfolding it. The pencil beside each family, like every small control on a touch screen, carries an invisible larger hit area; the pencil had not been given a position of its own, so its hit area anchored to the whole menu and sat as a wide strip across the middle of it, catching taps meant for the rows underneath.

The menu’s families start closed; the changelog knows a fix from a feature 8.0.5 · Sep 7, 2026 · 13:20 UTC

The families in the menu’s System section start closed now and the ones you open stay open on your account, instead of every family unfolding at once. And the changelog was calling a dozen fixes new releases because their titles did not carry the word: each entry now says which it is, the site reads that first, and twelve entries back to 7.16 wear the amber Fix mark they should have had.

The menu lists every system, in the board’s families, and follows a move 8.0.4 · Sep 7, 2026 · 12:30 UTC

The menu’s System section was grouping by the moves you had made and nothing else, so a system you had never moved fell into Other, and Other was not among the families it drew, so it vanished; most of the systems were missing from the menu. The menu now groups exactly as the board does, draws every family the board has, and keeps a real Other at the end for anything ungrouped.

The menu button opens the menu; the phone sheet trimmed 8.0.3 · Sep 7, 2026 · 11:40 UTC

The menu button at the top left opens the classic menu on every shell now: on the board shell it slides over the page with the systems, the lists, the calendar and Settings, and closes on a pick or a tap outside; it had been a second way to the board. On the phone sheet, History was pointing at a group of buttons rather than a button and did nothing; it is What changed now and opens that page.

The phone’s sheet, dressed 8.0.2 · Sep 7, 2026 · 10:50 UTC

The sheet under the dots is frosted glass now, rounder, with each control in a tinted disc of its own colour and labels that say the state: Dark mode or Light mode by what you are in, Set a lock until there is one, This device until the account syncs. The dots on the bar are a round button like their neighbours, three dots rather than sliders.

The phone’s top bar has its buttons back 8.0.1 · Sep 7, 2026 · 10:10 UTC

On a phone the top bar had the bell and search and nothing else: the dots that hold the rest were being hidden by their own rule, the same way the Changed dot was a while ago. The bar now carries the bell, the lock, dark or light, search and the dots, and the dots open the sheet with board mode, lock, help, sync now, undo, redo, light or dark, text zoom, history and search, each with its icon.

Version eight: the executive assistant 8.0.0 · Sep 7, 2026 · 09:00 UTC

A round number for the round of work since seven: Miya as the first screen, with her desk in five parts; threads she holds and comes back to; one question a day; Close the day, with the journal written for you; one change a week, held in prose; waiting for, occasions, deadlines, people to reach, next up with the brief before an appointment, the day drawn, money, health, travel, growth, home and errands on her page; drafts she writes; her standing orders in full and everything she can do in full; Hey Miya you can see, a call, and answers without a model; Ava as her voice; Swipe, four on a desk and one in the hand; a live line and a move under every system’s title; examples in every empty system; every system exporting itself; capture in four more languages, with the box on Home finally hearing everything. And the deep sweep that closes it: the assistant’s tick-a-habit action had never worked (it asked for a function Habits does not have), the streak reader in the year review asked for another, the old Where-to-improve list was still drawn hidden under the new one on every visit to her page, three of her toasts wrote Miya where you may have renamed her, and the two heaviest readers on her page (the improvement scan and her digest) now remember their answer for the length of a draw, which takes her page on a heavy account from 143 milliseconds of scanning to none on the second call.

Hey Miya you can see; Ava is her voice; everything of hers under her own tab 7.61.0 · Sep 7, 2026 · 07:30 UTC

Hearing her name now shows: a small pill at the bottom left says Hey Miya is on while the ear runs, or Microphone blocked, No network for listening, or No microphone found when it cannot; and when her name is heard a sheet rises over the page, her orb breathing, the words as they come, then her answer while she speaks it, and goes on its own. Under Settings, Miya there is Allow the microphone, which asks the browser for it from your tap, since the ear cannot ask on its own; and Listen once beside it.

Hey Miya hears more, the call listens, and she answers without a model 7.60.0 · Sep 7, 2026 · 05:10 UTC

Three things behind Hey Miya not answering. The ear only accepted “hey miya” and three spellings, and speech recognisers write the name as Mia, Maya, Mira, Amiya and worse; it accepts those now, with or without the hey.

Leaving Swipe for another board view left the cards on screen; and Fasting said since Invalid Date 7.59.1 · Sep 7, 2026 · 03:30 UTC

Switching the board from Swipe to the sheet, tiles, groups or A to Z left the four cards drawn over the new view, because the swipe was only put away when the board drew one of its zoomed views. The board puts it away at the start of any draw now.

Swipe shows four on a desk and one in the hand; the lock covers the swipe; her page opens up 7.59.0 · Sep 7, 2026 · 02:40 UTC

On a screen nine hundred pixels or wider, Swipe lays four systems side by side, each card with its own Open, Back and Next moving four at a time; on a phone it is still one card in the hand. The lock screen had been showing the swipe through it: the swipe is drawn on the page itself so it can fill the screen, and the lock did not know to hide it; the lock hides it now, and the board behind a lock is drawn plain.

Her page folds; the in tray; how did it go; her tone; let her run 7.58.0 · Sep 7, 2026 · 01:30 UTC

Every panel on her page below her card is a fold now: the title and a one-line gist on the closed row, the rest on a tap; what you open stays open on this account. Now stays open (next up, the day drawn, the in tray, prepared, drafts, waiting); the rest starts closed, and What she does on her own starts closed with Pause all still on its row.

The day drawn, money, health, travel, growth, home and errands on her page; smaller marks in Where to improve 7.57.0 · Sep 7, 2026 · 00:20 UTC

Seven more panels. The day, drawn: six in the morning to ten at night as one strip, what is booked, the free stretches hatched in green, a line where now is, and a button for each free stretch that blocks it.

The rest of her desk: next up, waiting for, occasions, deadlines, people to reach, her standing orders in full, everything she can do in full 7.56.0 · Sep 6, 2026 · 22:40 UTC

Her page is in four parts now. Now: Next up, the brief before your next appointment (the time and how long until it, who it is with, when you last spoke and what about, your notes on them, what is open on it, Call, Running late); Prepared for you; Drafts; Waiting for, the things you asked other people for, say waiting for Sam to send the contract and she keeps it with who and since when, Chase writes the nudge, Got it closes it.

Where to improve, drawn properly; and Miya sees every system 7.55.0 · Sep 6, 2026 · 21:20 UTC

The weak habits are a two-column list with a bar each, the percentage, Shrink and Archive on the row, under one heading; the other tips are cards in a grid, each with its icon, its sentence and the move that fixes it. And her view is the whole app now: her digest carries one live sentence per system, the same lines under each title, plus the facts you told her to remember, what she has prepared and the drafts she can write; her standing instructions tell her to read a system’s line before answering about it and to answer what you are holding, forgetting, or said you would do by name and with how long ago.

The app opens on Miya; Where to improve, grouped; and the box on Home finally hears everything 7.54.0 · Sep 6, 2026 · 20:10 UTC

The first screen is Miya now: the day in her words, what she is holding, the one question, and the box to say anything into; Home, the board and where I left off are a choice under Settings, General. Where to improve was one sentence per weak habit, twelve times; the weak habits are one card with a chip each, Shrink to open it and Archive to let it go, and every other line carries the move that fixes it: move the overdue to today, open the inbox, tick one, review now, see the bills, make a rule.

Miya writes drafts, keeps quiet hours, shows her own status, and lists everything she can do 7.53.0 · Sep 6, 2026 · 18:30 UTC

Drafts she can write: a birthday message for anyone whose day is within three days, a courteous chase for an overdue invoice, a reply to a message in the mail that asks a question, a cancellation notice for a subscription or membership about to renew. Written by the model when one is connected and from a plain template when not; shown before anything is sent, with Copy, Text and Email that carry the words with them, and Write it again.

Miya, the whole assistant: prepared for you, what she does on her own, delegate, what she remembers, her work this week 7.52.0 · Sep 6, 2026 · 17:00 UTC

Her page now has the five panels an assistant’s desk would have. Prepared for you: the things she has ready before you ask, a trip pack for a trip within ten days, the week written on Sunday, the charges the bank pays that Bills does not count, a renewal within a fortnight, what is waiting for a yes, and what came in the mail.

The two lamps yield to your own colour or material, and keep glowing 7.51.1 · Sep 6, 2026 · 15:30 UTC

Money and Miya glow whatever they wear. The gold and the platinum are now the tiles’ default coats, not a lock: give either tile a colour of its own or a material of its own from its menu and that is what you see, with the pulse, the drift and the sheen still running over it.

Miya’s tile glows, and her page is her own 7.51.0 · Sep 6, 2026 · 14:40 UTC

The Miya tile wears the same lamp as Money, in platinum: the pulse, the drift, the sheen sweeping across, in dark and in light, still when the system asks for less motion. Her page opens with her own card now, above the conversation: the day in her words, the threads she is holding and when each comes back, the one question if there is one, six asks people actually make (what should I do first, what am I holding, how is the money, plan my week, what slipped, what am I forgetting), and Call, Hold something for me, and Close the day in the evening.

Miya knows the loop, and the crossfade knows when to stop 7.50.0 · Sep 6, 2026 · 13:20 UTC

Ask Miya anything and she now answers with the loop in view: the threads she is holding and how long ago you said each, the first thing you agreed last night, whether the day is closed, and the one change you named this week. A deep check with a brand-new account walked every one of the eighty-five routes at both widths with nothing in the store: no errors, no overflow, examples where they should be.

The executive assistant: threads she holds, one question a day, Close the day, one change a week, Hey Miya, and a call 7.49.0 · Sep 6, 2026 · 11:30 UTC

Six pieces, one loop. Threads: anything you say that is not a task, thinking about switching banks, maybe I’ll take the course, hold: ask Rosa about the garden, becomes something Miya keeps and comes back to at a growing distance (three days, then a week, two, a month, two), until you say still on my mind, make it a task, done, or let it go.

Swipe, edge to edge, with Back, Next and Open 7.48.2 · Sep 6, 2026 · 09:10 UTC

The card now fills the screen from the top bar to the dock with nothing above or below it: Board, the counter and the order sit over the top of the card, and Back, Next and Open sit over its foot, three buttons a thumb can find. The board’s stage is drawn scaled, which had kept a fixed box inside it from being fixed to the screen; the swipe is lifted out to the page itself while it is open and put away when you leave.

Swipe, full screen 7.48.1 · Sep 6, 2026 · 08:20 UTC

While the board is in Swipe, its own header, greeting and zoom control step aside, and the card takes the whole height between the top bar and the dock; a small bar above it has Board to go back, the order, and the counter. Leaving the board clears it.

Swipe: the board one card at a time 7.48.0 · Sep 6, 2026 · 07:40 UTC

A fifth way the board opens, under Appearance, How the board opens, and in the board’s own Board menu: Swipe. Each system is a card in the hand, its family colour, its drawing large, its name, its live line, and the first thing to do; the next two cards peek from underneath.

The dock’s Changed dot 7.47.2 · Sep 6, 2026 · 06:20 UTC

The dot on Changed was drawing as a fifteen-pixel blank badge sitting on the bell: the rule that made it a dot lost to the badge’s own rule further down the sheet. It is an eight-pixel dot at the bell’s shoulder now, with a hairline of the dock’s own colour around it so it reads on any tile.

Three small things the bug sweep found 7.47.1 · Sep 6, 2026 · 05:30 UTC

Every move on every system was pressed by the rig with a seeded account: forty-three presses, no errors, no broken records. Three things it showed.

The other thirty systems get their moves, and the busiest get a second 7.47.0 · Sep 6, 2026 · 04:10 UTC

Photos: add photos. Files: upload.

The line under a title can be acted on: one or two moves in forty systems 7.46.0 · Sep 6, 2026 · 02:30 UTC

Beside the live line, each system now offers the move that line implies, one tap, with Undo. Tasks: move the overdue to today; plan the day.

A live line under every system’s title, and each system exports itself 7.45.0 · Sep 6, 2026 · 00:40 UTC

Sixty-four systems now carry one live sentence under their title, computed from their own records each time the page draws: Tasks says 1 overdue, 1 due today, 3 open; Bills says $1,200 due in 7 days, about $1,210 a month across 2; Finance says spent $54 this month, in $2,500, most at Publix; People says who is overdue for a call and whose birthday is next; Calendar says how many things today, what is next, and how many free hours are left in working hours; Sleep the week’s average; Insurance the monthly total and the next renewal; Warranty the next one ending; Habits how many are ticked and the longest run; and so on through Pets, Plants, Pantry, Projects, Goals, Invoices, Lent, Digital, School, Learn, Library, Countdowns, Gifts, Time, Meds, Fasting, Meditate, Focus, Photos, Files, Possessions, Wishlist, Home care, Contracts, Deals, Expenses, Tax, Dependants, Cycle, Reviews, Alarms, Reminders, Map, Recipes, Vault, Emergency, Career, Legacy, Reader, Watch, Net worth, Vision and Rules. A system with nothing to say says nothing.

A Telegram door, categories that learn, goals measured by habits, Google Fit, and every second Tuesday 7.44.0 · Sep 5, 2026 · 23:50 UTC

Five more. Telegram is a door for capture: the site runs one bot (token and name under Settings on the WordPress side, with the webhook address shown to register), and a person links their own chat under Settings, Integrations with a six-character code; after that, anything sent to the bot lands in the app the way mail does, and files itself when Capture is sure (a spend, a note, a night of sleep, a list, a task with a date), or waits with the mail when it is not.

Every empty system shows what it is for 7.43.0 · Sep 5, 2026 · 23:10 UTC

A uniformity pass measured every system with every module on: the header menu and the first card were on all seventy, the primary Add on forty-eight (the rest are logs that add from the page), and examples in the empty state on twenty-six. Forty-five systems had no examples, so an empty Workouts, Pantry, Insurance, Emergency, Gifts, Plants, Sleep, Career, Dependants, Countdowns, Files, Reviews, Rules, Vault and thirty-one more showed a sentence and nothing else.

Delete my account, a bulk write for imports, and the found bills on Home 7.42.0 · Sep 5, 2026 · 21:20 UTC

Three gaps closed. Settings, Account has Delete my account: not Start over, which keeps the account, but the whole thing, every record, every file, the login and the plan, on your own say-so with your password and the word DELETE typed out; a confirmation letter goes to your address first, and then nothing of yours remains on the server.

Miya’s brief on Home 7.41.0 · Sep 5, 2026 · 19:30 UTC

Today, in three and Since you were here were two grey panels that did not look like the rest of Home. They are one card now, in Home’s own colours, with Miya at the top.

Bills the bank already shows, a split spend, a page to start from, the clock where you are, and the small words in four languages 7.40.0 · Sep 5, 2026 · 17:40 UTC

Five things the app did not do. Bills has Found in your bank feed: the same payee, about the same amount, about a month or a week apart, three times or more, and not already a bill, is offered with Make it a bill (amount, rhythm and next due filled in, no double transaction) or Not a bill, which is remembered.

Capture hears Spanish, French, German and Portuguese 7.39.0 · Sep 5, 2026 · 15:10 UTC

The app reads in sixteen languages, but its ear was English: a person who typed gasté 12 en café got a task called Gasté 12 en café. The strong words in four languages, spent, paid, bought, buy, slept, water, weight, remind me, today, tomorrow, yesterday, the weekdays, appointment, meeting, birthday, and, are turned into English before the rules run, and a date written day first (12 oct) is turned around for the parser.

Materials at night 7.38.2 · Sep 5, 2026 · 13:00 UTC

Every tile material was drawn once, in its daylight colours, and the light/dark switch changed the page around the tiles but not the tiles: paper stayed pale at midnight. In dark mode a material’s own gradient is now multiplied with a deep tint of the tile’s hue, so paper becomes dark paper, sand dark sand, and the name, the counts, the icon and the drawing turn light to match; the texture, the sheen and the shapes are untouched.

No plate behind the tile drawings 7.38.1 · Sep 5, 2026 · 12:10 UTC

In light mode on a material, every tile’s small drawing sat on a translucent darker square, put there so the drawing would read on a pale surface. It read as an odd box.

Half the cost of every record written 7.38.0 · Sep 5, 2026 · 10:20 UTC

A sweep with a big account (three thousand transactions, fifteen hundred tasks) found that writing a record cost 2.8 milliseconds, which is nothing for one and eleven seconds for an import. Two things were doing it.

The tour knows this month, and one morning push 7.37.0 · Sep 5, 2026 · 08:40 UTC

The guided tour has a chapter called This month, seven steps: Capture hears what you say; Playbooks; Hand it over and the private tier; Year in review, the packs and sharing; on a phone (the control centre, the phone dock, forms from the bottom, a tick you feel); Miya noticed, ninety days and History; and your data in shapes other tools read. An account with both the daily email digest and a morning brief hour was about to get two morning pushes; it gets the brief, and the digest keeps to email.

The final sweep: the trial letters were counting to thirty, every icon button has a name, and Capture is Capture everywhere 7.36.0 · Sep 5, 2026 · 07:30 UTC

The three trial letters (a few days in, a week left, ends tomorrow) counted the day of the trial as thirty minus the days left; on a fourteen-day trial that put a brand-new account on day sixteen, past every mark, so all three were marked skipped on day one and nobody on a fourteen-day trial ever received one. The day is counted from the trial’s own length now, and the first letter says a few days in rather than a week in when the trial is short.

One question at the start, one story on the site, and the boot measured 7.35.0 · Sep 5, 2026 · 05:20 UTC

Setup asks one question beside your name: what do you want to stop worrying about? Money, my health, the house, people, work and study, everything; pick any.

How it feels in the hand: a control centre on phones, a smaller phone dock you choose, forms that rise from the bottom, one motion between screens, a tick you can feel, titles that edit where they sit, and a plan that drags 7.34.0 · Sep 5, 2026 · 03:10 UTC

On a phone the top bar keeps the menu, the date, the bell and search; everything else, board mode, lock, help, sync, undo, redo, light or dark, zoom, history, the trial clock and the status, opens in a control centre from one button, a sheet of large tiles that rises from the bottom. On a computer the bar is unchanged.

Settings as it was, the header menu on top, the tile size in every board view, and the data in shapes other tools read 7.33.0 · Sep 5, 2026 · 00:40 UTC

Four things put back or put right. Settings is the flat list of eighteen again; six grouped doors read as tidier and were harder to find things in, and the search still lands on any of them.

Round two, unify: twelve rooms to start, one way of writing a date, numbers that line up, and nothing too small to tap 7.32.0 · Sep 4, 2026 · 21:30 UTC

A new account starts with twelve rooms, Tasks, Calendar, Habits, Notes, Bills, Finance, People, Health, Files, Journal, Shopping and Trips; the other sixty-six are one switch away under Settings, Modules, and an account that already chose keeps its choice. A date in running text is written one way everywhere: today, tomorrow, yesterday, Sep 13, or Sep 13 2027, never 2026-09-13; inputs, code and the mono figures are left as they are.

Round one, subtract: a front door that hears, one vocabulary, one menu, six settings, a first minute 7.31.0 · Sep 4, 2026 · 19:40 UTC

Capture hears what you say now. Prefixes (n, j, q, idea, should I), money with a verb or a plain amount after a thing (coffee 4.50, +2500 salary), a bill when an amount has a rhythm (netflix 15.99 monthly, rent 1200 monthly on the 1st), the body’s own logs (water 2 glasses, slept 7.5, weight 181.5, bp 120/80, steps 8000, took ibuprofen 200mg, feeling anxious, stressed, mood 4), exercise (ran 5k, walked 3 miles, gym, meditated 15 min), a habit you already track by its name, a shopping list split on commas and ands (milk, eggs, and bread is three items), a time with no day (dentist 3pm is today), a day of the month (by the 20th), a birthday as a yearly event, done taxes as a task already done, and a question straight to Miya.

The trial tells one story, a letter when it ends, and the day’s letters go out even when the host’s clock does not 7.30.0 · Sep 4, 2026 · 16:30 UTC

One account read “30 days left” in Billing under a top bar saying the trial had ended: the days came from one clock (a trial that has not started, because the address was never confirmed, has all its days ahead) and the end date from another (counted from the day of registration). A trial that has not started now has no end date anywhere; the bar, the pill and the card all say the days begin when the address is confirmed.

The app starts again 7.29.1 · Sep 4, 2026 · 14:10 UTC

7.28.0 and 7.29.0 would not start on the live site: the claim and trip packs wrote a whole document (doctype, head, style, body) as one string inside the app’s own script, and something between the server and the browser, a minifier, cut the script there, so the whole app arrived unfinished and the repair screen showed. The packs now build that page from pieces, with no whole document tag inside the script, and the ship check refuses any build where a document tag appears more than once.

The trial counts down to the second, in the top bar 7.29.0 · Sep 4, 2026 · 13:20 UTC

A trial that said “12 days” was a trial people forgot. It is a clock now: days, hours, minutes and seconds, in the top bar where it is always in view, red under three days, and “Trial ended · pick a plan” after.

What the app notices, shares, gathers, plans and reports: twelve more 7.28.0 · Sep 4, 2026 · 12:40 UTC

Miya noticed, on Today: patterns read from your records, never guessed. Spending running well above your usual month once a week of it is in, a habit streak that ends tonight, a renewal with no lead time, a person you meant to see every two weeks at five, a bill that went up, tasks more than a week overdue, a subscription unused for two months.

Twelve reasons to come back: playbooks, a morning brief, a year in review, hand it over, history, words inside documents, a backup folder, allowance, settle up, monthly rules, focus and care, and money in another currency 7.27.0 · Sep 4, 2026 · 09:30 UTC

Playbooks, under Tasks: moving house, a new baby, tax season, a trip, a job change; pick the day it turns on and the tasks, renewals, countdown and records land across the systems, one Undo removes all of it. A morning brief: one push a day at the hour you set under Notifications, sent by the server so it arrives with the app closed, saying what is overdue, due and booked.

The search box’s hint reads as words again 7.26.1 · Sep 4, 2026 · 06:20 UTC

The palette’s placeholder showed its quotation marks and dots as code (‘, ·) rather than as the characters, because the hint sat in the page’s markup, where a script’s escape sequences mean nothing. The characters are written plainly now, and a sweep of every page in the app, the site and Money found no other place where an escape was left in markup.

Ten small things that make a form and a list quick 7.26.0 · Sep 4, 2026 · 05:40 UTC

Enter saves a form: in any one-line field of any drawer, Enter presses Save; a field with Enter duties of its own keeps them. A number field opens the number keypad on a phone, all 153 of them.

Bills per month or per year, filtered by what pays them, no double transactions, and Print on every page 7.25.0 · Sep 4, 2026 · 03:30 UTC

Bills has one switch, Per month or Per year, and the whole page follows it: the donuts, the shares, every line largest first, the surplus line; the heading says which, and the choice is remembered. A new filter, Paid from, narrows the page to the bills one income pays, or one account an income is split into, so what Chase Checking has to cover is one selection away.

The plan says what it is, and the dock’s first button is the Board 7.24.0 · Sep 4, 2026 · 01:20 UTC

The panel at the top of Home called itself The plan and explained nothing. It is Today, in three now (or in one, or in five): the few things most worth doing today, picked from what is overdue, due today and high on your list, in that order, and it says so.

“Nothing here yet” only when there is nothing 7.23.2 · Sep 4, 2026 · 00:10 UTC

A system with one, two or three things in it was being told it was empty: the note that says nothing is here yet counted rows, needed four to believe a page had any, and with two alarms landed inside the first alarm’s card. It reads the record store now, the registry saying which kinds each system owns, and speaks only when a system has no records at all.

A bill’s Save works again 7.23.1 · Sep 3, 2026 · 23:20 UTC

Saving a bill threw before it wrote anything, so Paid from, and every other change on the form, silently did not stick and the drawer stayed open. The subscription switch was being copied into the record from inside the very expression that built the record, a step before the record existed.

Getting started knows the new choices, and the tour has a chapter for what arrived 7.23.0 · Sep 3, 2026 · 02:10 UTC

The Getting Started card, the short list of choices that make the system yours, has eight more lines, each detecting its own answer as the others do: what the tiles are made of, the sheet, light by day and dark by night, the dock size, the shape of Today, the doors in from outside, and the private tier. The tour has a new chapter, What arrived lately: Today in ten seconds, Capture as the front door, the sheet, the look of the board and the pills, Health’s records, Learn’s curricula with Career’s skills and pay, the three newer rooms, and reading aloud with the audit log.

Two reverts and a flat settings list 7.22.2 · Sep 3, 2026 · 00:20 UTC

The viewport work of the last two builds is undone: the app measures the safe-area insets as it did before, the shell, the drawers and the wallpaper are sized as they were, and nothing scrolls the page back on its own. The bottom band on a phone turned out to be the browser’s own bar under an app added to the home screen from the browser, not something the app drew, and the changes made to chase it did more harm than good.

Drawers below the notch, and the page put back after the keyboard 7.22.1 · Sep 2, 2026 · 23:05 UTC

A drawer on a phone with a notch started its words, and its close button, under the status bar; both now start below the device’s top inset, and the close button keeps clear of the right one. The blank band at the bottom of the installed app: when the keyboard goes away, iOS can leave the page shifted up, and every fixed layer, the dock, a drawer, the wallpaper, then stops short of the bottom.

The second phone sweep: pills that follow the mode, a dock size of its own, honest edges, and a finger that lifts a tile 7.22.0 · Sep 2, 2026 · 22:30 UTC

Pills follow the mode now: in light mode the board’s pills wear the light tint the tiles wear, in the page’s hue, instead of a dark material with dark words; in dark mode they wear the material with light words, and dark words on the four pale materials. The dock has a size of its own, Compact, Normal or Large under Settings, Appearance, independent of the text size, so a large text setting no longer bloats it; a phone starts Compact, a monitor Normal.

The phone sweep: pills you can read, whole tiles, a smaller dock, a floor under the wallpaper 7.21.7 · Sep 2, 2026 · 21:40 UTC

Four things from a phone in the hand. The board’s pills wear the tile material, and on a dark material in light mode that put dark words on a dark pill; the words are white now on the thirteen materials that need it, and dark on the four pale ones in dark mode, measured pill by pill rather than guessed.

The sheet uses the tile view’s own drag 7.21.6 · Sep 2, 2026 · 21:00 UTC

No more copying the family board’s dragging; the sheet’s tiles are wired into the same loop as the board’s tiles, so a mouse or a pen drags them with the browser’s own drag, exactly as on the tile view: pick up anywhere, carry anywhere, the tiles part as you pass, drop. The sheet keeps its own copy-that-follows only for a finger, which has no browser drag: hold a third of a second, at once in Edit sheet, and drag.

A drag on the sheet can no longer get stuck 7.21.5 · Sep 2, 2026 · 20:40 UTC

The copy that follows the pointer stayed on screen, and followed you to the next page, when the board was redrawn under a drag: a sync landing, a refresh, a tap that opened a system. The tile that had the pointer was thrown away with the old board, so the release never reached it, and the copy had nobody to remove it.

The sheet drags the way the board does: freely 7.21.4 · Sep 2, 2026 · 20:10 UTC

Dragging on the sheet moved the tile itself, and every time the grid re-slotted it the tile jumped under the pointer, which is why it never felt free. Now what follows the pointer is a copy, fixed to the screen, going anywhere; the tile itself stays in the grid, dimmed, and is moved live to where the copy is, the way the family board has always done it.

Press and drag on the sheet, no edit mode needed 7.21.3 · Sep 2, 2026 · 19:40 UTC

On the sheet you can now press a tile and drag it into place straight away: a mouse or a pen lifts it after six pixels, the others part to make room, let go and the order is kept and the sort becomes Your order. A press that never moved is still a tap, and opens the system, and a press that held still is still the hold menu.

Dragging on the sheet works with a hand, not only in a test 7.21.2 · Sep 2, 2026 · 19:05 UTC

Your order on the sheet leaned on the browser’s own drag and drop, which passed a synthetic test and failed a real mouse: a button under pointer capture, and any touch screen, refuse it. The sheet moves tiles the way the family board always has, by pointer: press a tile in Edit sheet, move six pixels and it lifts and follows, the others part to make room as you pass, let go and the order is kept.

Small, wide, tall and large on the sheet 7.21.1 · Sep 2, 2026 · 18:20 UTC

The sheet shipped without the one thing the family board has always had: a tile’s own size. On the sheet every tile now wears the size it has on the board, small, wide, tall or large, and in Edit sheet a badge in each tile’s corner steps it through the four; the sheet packs around them so a wide tile takes two across, a tall one two down, a large one a square of four.

Every tile on one sheet, and a phone’s tile size that is the phone’s 7.21.0 · Sep 2, 2026 · 17:40 UTC

A fourth way for the board to open, under Board: Every tile, one sheet. No families, no group cards: every system you have, on one sheet, sorted your way, by name, by family, most used, recently opened, or an order of your own.

Today reads in ten seconds, says what the system did, and every door leads to Capture 7.20.0 · Sep 2, 2026 · 16:45 UTC

Today is the front door, and it reads top to bottom in one glance now: the line, the capture box, the plan, and then a new panel, Since you were here: how many things changed, and what the system did for you this week, built from the receipts the flows and agents write and nobody read. Two renewals made their own reminders, a low pantry item went on the list when you said yes, a captioned photo landed on the journal; it says so in one sentence, with the count, and a button to the receipts.

The stepped-back board, and a page that refreshes itself 7.19.3 · Sep 2, 2026 · 15:50 UTC

The one board layout the two earlier fixes did not reach: stepped back, sorted by name, most used or recently opened, the flat grid of every system. It ends at the dock’s measured edge now, like the others.

The board itself stops where the dock begins 7.19.2 · Sep 2, 2026 · 15:15 UTC

Belt and braces on the last row: the board’s whole area now ends at the dock’s measured edge plus a breath, in every board mode and every sort order, on top of the pane padding from 7.19.1, so no layout the board can be put in leaves a tile under the dock. Measured at 890 by 300, 890 by 420, 1160 by 360 and 390 by 844 in all three modes and four sort orders: no tile under the dock in any of them.

The last row of tiles no longer sits under the dock 7.19.1 · Sep 2, 2026 · 14:50 UTC

In a short, wide window the board’s bottom row of tiles sat under the dock, because the family groups were stretched to the height of the pane and their square tiles simply spilled past it, with nothing to scroll. The groups now take the height their tiles need, the pane scrolls when they do not fit, and every board layout, the panorama, the vertical board and the phone’s, ends at the dock’s measured edge plus a breath rather than at a guessed number of pixels.

Light by day, dark by night, and pills that match the tiles 7.19.0 · Sep 2, 2026 · 14:20 UTC

Mode has a third setting beside Dark and Light: By the clock, with two times you set, light from one and dark from the other, checked every minute on the device’s own clock, and a window that crosses midnight works too. And the board’s pills, Back in, Tile look, Board, Edit families, By family, By name, Most used, Recently opened and the size control, wear the same material as the tiles: glass on glass, metal on metal, paper on paper, the way buttons inside the systems already do, with the ones that are not on sitting a little quieter.

Records for the body, an order for learning, skills and pay, and the booking that files itself 7.18.0 · Sep 2, 2026 · 13:45 UTC

Health kept numbers, workouts, medicines and an emergency card, and nothing for the visit, the result, the jab, or who the doctor is. Under Medications now: Records, a visit, a result, a procedure or a vaccination with its date, who it was with and what was said, the letter attached; Who looks after you, the doctors, dentists and clinics with a phone number; and Health summary, one printable page a doctor can read, who you are, what you take, what you react to, who to call, and the last twelve months.

Redraws that keep your place, and the other side’s words while you type 7.17.0 · Sep 2, 2026 · 12:50 UTC

Every system draws by replacing its markup whole, which is why a search box lost the caret when the store changed and a long list jumped to the top on every refresh. The view now remembers where focus, the caret and the scroll were before a redraw and puts them back after, for every system at once, without touching any of them.

Any page read aloud, who changed what, and a door for other assistants 7.16.0 · Sep 2, 2026 · 12:05 UTC

A speaker beside the sparkle on every system reads the page: the title, the subtitle, then each panel’s heading and up to eight of its lines, with a pause between the parts of a line; press it again to stop. It uses the voice the app already has and nothing leaves the device.

Bring things in on the last step, three lines the first time, three examples while empty 7.15.0 · Sep 2, 2026 · 11:20 UTC

The setup wizard’s last step now offers the imports where they are wanted: contacts from the phone or a .vcf, a calendar .ics, a bank .csv, tasks, notes and the rest, each running as you press it and counting as it lands, the same imports Settings, Data has held. Then the tour’s job, done differently: the first time you stand in a system it shows three lines, what it is, what it does and how to ask, in the words the site uses for it, with Got it to dismiss forever; eighty systems have theirs, and accounts that already took the tour are not shown them.

The plan, the budget for interruptions, and four more ways systems act 7.14.0 · Sep 2, 2026 · 10:40 UTC

Today composes the day now instead of naming the first thing. The plan reads Energy: no reading yet means three things, a low reading means one, a good one means five with the hard one first; what goes on it is what is overdue, then due, then high on the list, with the first item put in the hours Energy has learned are yours; Done on the plan is done everywhere.

Five hundred and forty-four prompts, and Next 7.13.0 · Sep 2, 2026 · 09:30 UTC

The journal had forty-six prompts and one per day, chosen by a hash that landed a year of days on two hundred and twenty-seven of them. The bank is five hundred and forty-four now, written across fifteen themes, today, tomorrow, the week, the month, gratitude, people, yourself, the body, the mind, work, money, home, memory, the future, the hard days, play and what you leave, with a few families that read as questions of their own: finish the sentence, when did you last feel, what would change if you stopped.

Focus minutes that were always nought 7.12.1 · Sep 2, 2026 · 08:40 UTC

Six places still counted focus time from a kind nothing writes: the minutes the assistant was told you had focused today, the Life page’s focus hours, the year’s summary, a Deep focus line in the review, and the name the thread gives a focus session. Insights had been fixed in 7.5.3; these had not.

Budgets, categories and the month, inside Finance 7.12.0 · Sep 2, 2026 · 07:55 UTC

The three screens that lived only in Money are in Finance now, drawn over the same records. Budgets: a category and a monthly figure, with what has gone against it so far this month counted from the transactions you already log, a bar, and the word over when it is.

One ledger: the second half 7.11.2 · Sep 2, 2026 · 07:20 UTC

Miya Money 3.13.1 reads and writes this store. Once a person’s Money records have been moved across, or the site is switched over, the Money screen stops keeping a ledger of its own: its transactions, debts, goals, holdings, snapshots, recurring expenses and incomes, categories and budgets are the same rows Finance, Bills and Worth edit, translated on the wire and back, and an edit in either place is one record.

One ledger: the first half 7.11.1 · Sep 2, 2026 · 06:35 UTC

Money kept its own records in its own table, so a transaction entered there and one entered in Finance were two ledgers that could not both be right, and the same was true of debts, goals, holdings and net-worth snapshots. Miya Money 3.13.0 can now move a person’s Money records into this store under the kinds Finance, Bills and Worth already read: a Money transaction becomes a transaction, a debt a debt with the same balance, rate and minimum, a goal a savings goal, an asset a holding, a snapshot a net-worth snapshot, a recurring expense a bill, an income an income, a category a category, a budget a budget.

The private tier, wider, and a way back in 7.11.0 · Sep 2, 2026 · 05:50 UTC

The private tier sealed four kinds of record: cycle days, symptoms, emotion logs, vault documents. It seals sixteen now, the ones a burglar, a court or a hospital would want first: the will and where it is, the emergency card, medicines and doses, dependants and their records, the accounts you hold, decisions and their reasoning, the standing facts Miya knows, sleep, and every journal page.

What Miya knows, what she can find, and what she may do 7.10.0 · Sep 2, 2026 · 05:05 UTC

The assistant knew you through a digest sent with each question: counts, and the last six labels of each kind. Three things change that.

Two devices, one record, both edits kept 7.9.0 · Sep 2, 2026 · 04:25 UTC

When a record changed on two devices before they met, the newer copy won whole and the other device’s edit was set aside in the inbox as a rival version, even when the two had touched different fields. Every field now carries the moment it last changed, so the two copies are merged field by field: the title you changed here and the notes you changed there both stand, and the combined record goes back up so every device agrees.

Scenes that hold still off screen, and a Share button that works 7.8.1 · Sep 2, 2026 · 03:50 UTC

The board ran every tile’s scene at once, three hundred animations, most of them behind the fold or clipped by the family strip. A scene runs only while it is on screen now and holds its pose the rest of the time: a hundred and forty-nine on the same board, none of them a visible one paused.

One box for anything, and systems that wake up 7.8.0 · Sep 2, 2026 · 03:10 UTC

Every kind of record had its own door: the task box on Today, the palette’s few verbs, share-in, email-in, the plus on each screen. Capture is the front door now, on the dock where Add a system was and behind the slash key wherever you are.

Decisions, Energy and Digital life: seventy-eight 7.7.0 · Sep 2, 2026 · 02:30 UTC

Three things a personal OS should own and this one did not. Decisions keeps the question, the options with their for and against, the one you chose and why, a pre-mortem written before you know, how sure you were, and a review that lands as a task on the day you set; the reviews add up to a calibration, how sure you tend to be when it goes well and when it does not.

One person, however many screens know them 7.6.2 · Sep 2, 2026 · 01:40 UTC

Eight screens kept their own shape for a human being: People, Talk, Household, Dependants, a client in Business, whoever borrowed the drill, the emergency card, the legacy contact. Talk had learned in 7.1 to find the person behind a contact; that is the rule for everyone now.

The ways systems act on each other, written down 7.6.1 · Sep 2, 2026 · 01:05 UTC

A paid bill made a transaction, a trip blocked the calendar, a vet visit landed in Finance, and nothing anywhere listed those couplings or let you switch one off; each lived inside the system that fired it. The store now says out loud what every write was, and the couplings are flows: named, explained, on by default, off in a tap on the Rules page, and each leaves a receipt beside the rules when it acts.

One table of what a record is, and a log of what leaves 7.6.0 · Sep 2, 2026 · 00:20 UTC

The app now has a single table saying what every kind of record is: which system owns it, which screens borrow it, and how to name one. The assistant’s list of what it may read and Files’ list of what a file belongs to are both drawn from it, instead of being two hand-kept copies that drifted apart; twenty-six systems had gone missing from one of them and five dead names were sitting in the other.

The thread, a page at a time 7.5.5 · Sep 1, 2026 · 23:58 UTC

The Connections thread built a button for every moment in the window before it drew anything, which on a full account was twelve thousand pieces of screen and the last page still taking over a second. It draws a hundred and fifty now and says plainly how many are below, the same shape Tasks and Files already use.

What August already logged, and screens that stop waiting 7.5.4 · Sep 1, 2026 · 23:40 UTC

Yesterday named four things properly; today keeps what they had already written. Every glass of water logged from the palette or a tile since the shortcut existed sat in a record Hydration never read, and every transaction added by hand in a kind Finance never listed.

Files that were there all along, and months that stayed in order 7.5.3 · Sep 1, 2026 · 22:10 UTC

Files promised every file you had attached anywhere, and on a real account it showed none of them: it read one index, and neither way of attaching wrote to it. Uploads went to the server table and vanished from view; the pictures most systems keep on the record itself were never looked at.

The subscriptions you already had 7.5.2 · Aug 31, 2026 · 18:49 UTC

You marked plenty of bills as subscriptions and the panel still said none, which was the whole feature failing quietly: a bill has carried that in its category field since long before I added a switch, and I was reading only the switch. Either says yes now, so a shelf full of subscriptions counts as one.

Everything the four of them should have asked for 7.5.1 · Aug 31, 2026 · 18:41 UTC

The new systems shipped thin. All four take photographs and files now, through the same attachment the rest of the app uses: the front page of the will, a vaccination card, the thing itself and its receipt, the current passport.

The people you carry, and the things that outlast you 7.5 · Aug 31, 2026 · 18:25 UTC

Seventy-five systems. Dependants is the one that was missing most: everything here belonged to you, and a child, a parent you look after and an animal cannot hold an account, so their lives had nowhere to live except mixed into yours.

Seventy-one, everywhere it is counted 7.4.6 · Aug 31, 2026 · 17:06 UTC

Mail shipped as the seventy-first system and the site never heard about it: the inventory still held seventy, the sliding strip held seventy, and the counter under the hero still read seventy while the sentence above it said seventy-one. Mail has its card in Mind & Knowledge on both pages now, its place in the strip, and every count on every page reads seventy-one — twelve pages checked, nothing stale left.

A widget is a tile, so its name reads like one 7.4.5 · Aug 31, 2026 · 14:56 UTC

The Running and Custom tiles were shouting FASTING, HABITS, MEDICATIONS while the system beside them said Tasks and Bills. Their label had picked up the section-heading treatment — uppercase and letter-spaced — which is why it looked like a different size even though it never was.

The clock setting decides the clock 7.4.4 · Aug 31, 2026 · 09:41 UTC

Restoring the clocks yesterday pinned one size to each of them, which quietly overrode Small, Medium and Large: the control was there, it wrote the choice down, and nothing on screen changed. Each option now has its own size at the specificity needed to clear the one-size rule, and the whole range came down — the lock clock reads 40, 56 or 78 pixels rather than 92 flat, and the ambient face follows the same choice at 38, 48 or 62.

Names that fit in the tile that holds them 7.4.3 · Aug 31, 2026 · 09:38 UTC

The Running and Custom tiles used to carry larger text than the systems beside them; that went when everything took one size, and what was left was the cut — FAST…, HABI…, MEDI… on the narrow ones. A label now takes a second line rather than an ellipsis, on a desk as well as on a phone, and a tile clips to its own corner so nothing spills past it.

The clocks are a clock, not a paragraph 7.4.2 · Aug 31, 2026 · 09:33 UTC

One size everywhere was right for words and wrong for the time. The lock screen and the ambient face had both been shrunk to reading size by that rule; they are back to what they were — the lock clock up to ninety two pixels on a wide screen and the ambient face up to fifty eight, both still scaling with the window so they read across a room.

Your card belongs to you, not to a conversation 7.4.1 · Aug 31, 2026 · 09:21 UTC

It was sitting in the header of every individual chat, which put a button about yourself inside a room about somebody else, once per room. It now sits once, at the top, beside Group and Person — the row that is already about people rather than about the thread you happen to have open.

One size, everywhere 7.4 · Aug 31, 2026 · 09:06 UTC

Every piece of text in the app is now the size of the brand mark: 9.85 pixels at the middle setting, in the shell as well as in a system, in a drawer as well as on the board. A heading is still a heading, but by treatment rather than by scale — uppercase, letter-spaced, heavier, in the accent colour, exactly as miya.life is; a line of body is plain and quiet, exactly as the name beside it is.

Two kinds of text, and only two 7.3.4 · Aug 31, 2026 · 09:01 UTC

Worth stating plainly, because it is the root of three rounds of this: miya.life and the name beside it are the same size, to the hundredth of a pixel. What makes them read as two different things is that one is uppercase, letter-spaced, heavier and in the accent colour, and the other is plain and quiet.

One scale, all the way through 7.3.3 · Aug 31, 2026 · 08:34 UTC

Sizing the heading and the body was not enough. The chips, the tabs, the placeholder in the capture box, the section labels, the counts and the rows of every list were each carrying a size of their own, so a system still read louder than the window around it.

The top of the window sets the scale 7.3.2 · Aug 31, 2026 · 08:26 UTC

Last time I matched the wrong two things: the view’s own title rather than the heading on the panel, which is what you actually read. miya.life and the name beside it are both the same size — they read as different things because one is uppercase, bold and in the accent colour and the other is not, which is precisely the relationship a panel heading has with the line under it.

A system’s name is a label, not a banner 7.3.1 · Aug 31, 2026 · 08:18 UTC

The title above a system was eighteen pixels while miya.life in the corner was ten, so every screen opened by shouting its own name. Both are the same ratio of the base size now — the heading measures exactly what the brand mark measures, and the text under it sits just below, the way the top of the window was already telling you the scale should be.

Your card, as other people see it 7.3 · Aug 31, 2026 · 08:09 UTC

Editing your own name and face changed nothing at the other end, which is the wrong answer to “will they see it”: a card only you can read is a diary entry. Saving your card now publishes the name, the photo and the line about yourself, and it travels no further than the people who already have you as a contact.

A smaller step, and where the size is really coming from 7.2.1 · Aug 31, 2026 · 08:06 UTC

Text size gains an XXS below XS. Worth saying plainly though: at S the app already sets its base to ten and a half pixels, and the headings on the settings screen measure sixteen, so if it still reads large the size is arriving from outside the app — the browser’s own zoom, or the display scaling the computer applies to everything on it.

One person, whichever system you are looking at 7.2 · Aug 31, 2026 · 07:58 UTC

Their address, their face and the day you last spoke were all sitting in Talk, and People was asking you to type them again. They cross over now: a contact’s in.miya.life address fills the email field, their handle fills the handle, and last contacted moves forward on its own from the messages and the calls, so the reach-out reminder counts from when you actually spoke rather than from when you last remembered to write it down.

Talk knows who it is talking to 7.1 · Aug 31, 2026 · 07:49 UTC

A contact in Talk was a username and nothing else: no face, no note, no way to see who you were writing to, and no relation to the person of the same name already in People. They are one record now.

Mail, and an address of your own 7.0 · Aug 31, 2026 · 07:37 UTC

Seventy one systems. Mail is a glance rather than a client: who wrote, what about, and what you have not read, fetched read only over IMAP with an app password your provider makes for miya alone and you can revoke there in a click.

The board stops under the dock 6.9.5 · Aug 31, 2026 · 07:18 UTC

The dock floats over the board, and the board was leaving a fixed guess of room for it — too little on a desk, where the dock is wider, so the last row of tiles ran underneath it. The board measures the dock now, on load and whenever the window changes, and leaves exactly that much room plus a margin.

The smaller type reaches the rest of the board 6.9.4 · Aug 31, 2026 · 05:53 UTC

Shrinking the tile names only reached the board’s own tiles. The family cards and the Running and Custom widgets kept the reading size and went on truncating — FAST…, HABI…, MEDI… — and a label that ends in an ellipsis has told you nothing.

The dock, a shade higher 6.9.3 · Aug 31, 2026 · 05:19 UTC

Four pixels put it against the edge; ten leaves it sitting on the screen rather than falling off it. Eight in an installed window, where there is no browser chrome under it.

The dock sits down 6.9.2 · Aug 31, 2026 · 05:16 UTC

On a phone the dock floated with a band of wallpaper under it, which reads as a mistake rather than a margin. It rides just above the home indicator now, and only as far above it as that indicator needs: four pixels of gap in a browser, two in an installed window.

Tile names that fit 6.9.1 · Aug 31, 2026 · 05:03 UTC

On a phone the names under the tiles were set at the reading size and half of them ended in an ellipsis: Appointme…, Lent & borr… A name you cannot read is not a label. They are about two thirds of the size now, may take a second line rather than being cut, and are the one place exempt from the twelve pixel floor, because a tile name is a caption on a picture rather than something you read a paragraph of.

Quieter on a phone 6.9 · Aug 31, 2026 · 04:41 UTC

A moving wallpaper kept decoding in a tab nobody was looking at, which on a phone is a battery bill for nothing and holds the decoder the next app wants. Both layers stop when the page is hidden, when the browser is saving data, under twenty per cent of battery, and when the device asks for less motion; they resume where they stopped, so nothing seeks and nothing stalls coming back.

What was already used comes with it 6.8.1 · Aug 31, 2026 · 03:52 UTC

Moving the allowance onto the plan’s own period would have handed everybody a clean slate, which sounds generous and is simply wrong: work already spent would vanish and the month would be paid for twice. A counter still keyed to a calendar month that falls inside the period now running is carried across instead of discarded, once, and rewritten under the new key.

The allowance follows your plan, not the calendar 6.8 · Aug 31, 2026 · 03:35 UTC

Replies and call minutes were counted against the calendar month, so everybody’s allowance turned over on the first whatever day they had actually paid on. Somebody who renews on the thirteenth lost eleven days of it every time, and saw a full allowance reset in front of them on the first as though a month had passed.

Career on its own, and no signposts to rooms you declined 6.7.4 · Aug 31, 2026 · 03:15 UTC

Career has left Business & Management, which is about running a company rather than having a job, and sits with the day and the agenda beside Projects and Goals, switched on like everything else there. A family with nothing switched on no longer leaves a dashed tile behind saying so: it is simply not on the board.

One medicine list, not two 6.7.3 · Aug 31, 2026 · 02:51 UTC

The new Medicines page defined its own POS.meds and quietly replaced the one the app already had, which is where the doses, the ticks, the adherence and the low-stock arithmetic lived. Nine places called into it — the daily plan, the digest, the improvements pass, the health page — and every one of them threw the moment the page loaded.

Two of them let back in 6.7.2 · Aug 31, 2026 · 02:34 UTC

Yesterday’s fix went too far: Medicines and Watchlist were made opt-in along with Career, so all three vanished from the board instead of only the one that belonged in a family you have to switch on. Medicines and Watchlist are on by default again, like every other health and knowledge system.

Three that let themselves in 6.7.1 · Aug 31, 2026 · 02:21 UTC

Medicines, Watchlist and Career arrived switched on for everybody, because a system is on unless it is named as opt-in and these three were not. They join the four business systems and News on that list: off until you ask for them, which is what a system in a family you have not opened should be.

Seventy 6.7 · Aug 31, 2026 · 01:56 UTC

Three systems, chosen because each was a hole rather than a nice idea. Medicines was always here, filed under Health beside weight and step counts, which is the wrong shelf for a daily loop with safety in it: it has its own front door now, showing what is still to take today, what is down to a fortnight, what a pharmacist would want to read, and the last seven days as dots.

Worth, Time, and where to start 6.6 · Aug 31, 2026 · 01:35 UTC

Two systems close the last capability gaps. Worth holds what you own that has a price — a fund, a car, half a flat — adds it to what your accounts hold, takes off what you owe, and draws every net worth snapshot the app has taken, so the last year is a shape rather than a memory.

How you would know 6.5 · Aug 31, 2026 · 00:56 UTC

The third audit found the remaining gaps were not features. Nine thousand seven hundred lines of server code across eighty six routes had no test of any kind, so there is one now: a route audit you run with one WP-CLI line against a staging site, which writes a record and reads it back, proves the API refuses without a key and answers with one, proves sealed records are never handed out, proves switching the key off closes the door at once, proves mail to an unknown address is ignored rather than retried forever and that a wrong key is refused, proves the archive will not post to a plain http address, and walks every route this plugin registers to check each one asks who is calling.

Take it back, and where it opens 6.4 · Aug 31, 2026 · 23:40 UTC

Five things the second audit measured. Every delete can be taken back: a hundred and forty places removed something and thirty eight offered a way out, so the store itself now offers one when the caller did not, without talking over the ones that already do.

Sleep, what is ahead, and sixty-four finished systems 6.3 · Aug 31, 2026 · 23:09 UTC

An audit measured the whole thing and this answers it. Sleep is a system: a night is when you went, when you woke and how it felt, with the seven and thirty night averages, a fortnight of bars, the hours you are short of eight, and Apple Health’s nights counted alongside your own.

Four things a complete system needs 6.2 · Aug 31, 2026 · 22:35 UTC

One search that reaches everything: Ctrl or Cmd with Shift and F, or Find anything in the palette, reads every record of every system, its fields, its tags and what is attached to it, groups the answers by system and opens each where it lives. Two versions instead of one silent loss: when two devices change the same record and one was offline, the server copy is what everyone shows and the copy this device was holding is kept beside it, field by field, until somebody chooses.

The tour, the widgets and the count 6.1 · Aug 31, 2026 · 22:18 UTC

The tour goes to fifteen steps: it now shows bringing your life in, sharing and mail arriving, the card people scan, the household page, Talk’s voice notes and replies, Money and one set of accounts, and the lines that say why a reminder or a rule did what it did.

Made for thumbs 6.0.1 · Aug 31, 2026 · 18:56 UTC

Every one of the sixty-nine screens was measured at desktop and phone width, with long titles and real records in them: nothing runs past the edge, nothing scrolls sideways by accident, nothing throws. What that measuring found was small marks that press badly on a phone — the tick on a board widget, the ✕ on a Today section, a rule’s later, the daily tick, the two order arrows on a project, and the nodes on Connections, some of them five pixels across.

Version six 6.0 · Aug 31, 2026 · 18:27 UTC

A round number for a round of work. Since version five began the app has grown the assistant with hands, the operating layer, the lock screen, connections, video calls, Money as its own application, and in these last weeks: sharing to miya.life from any app, a scannable card, imports for contacts, tasks, bookmarks, health and notes, a household you join with a code, live location, Talk with voice notes and replies and reactions and read receipts, the Household page, NFC tags, mail forwarded to your own address, bank sync as a paid add-on, and one set of accounts across Money, Finance and Bills.

A linked bank is charged the day it is linked 5.417 · Aug 31, 2026 · 07:55 UTC

The add-on rode the next invoice, and Stripe discards the unbilled items of a cancelled subscription: link on the first, cancel on the twelfth, come back on the fourteenth, and the bank month was free. Each added bank is now invoiced the moment it is linked, for the rest of the billing period, and the invoice is finalised and charged rather than left to sit.

Bank sync shows what Stripe holds 5.416 · Aug 31, 2026 · 07:30 UTC

The card said $2 on your next invoice whether or not Stripe had taken the line, and a refusal from Stripe was recorded where nobody could read it. Both the Billing panel and Money’s bank card now ask Stripe what it actually holds — the line and its quantity, the next invoice date, or the absence of any subscription — and say so, with a button that runs the billing change again when the two are out of step.

Four doors that opened onto nothing 5.415 · Aug 31, 2026 · 07:18 UTC

A second machine sweep of everything: 607 buttons and 34 inputs across 67 pages and 17 Settings tabs, Money’s 24 views and 63 actions, and the server-edition pages against a pretend server. It found four navigation targets that were not routes: Call back on a missed-call toast, the clean-start reset landing on home, the Ask fallback going to miya, and the water shortcut’s fallback going to water.

One set of accounts 5.414 · Aug 31, 2026 · 06:53 UTC

Every account in Money — a bank feeds it or a person typed it — is now an account in Finance too, read-only on this side, carrying the live balance: Money mirrors each one as it is written, un-mirrors on delete or unlink, and backfills the ones that exist already the next time it opens. Finance › Accounts lists them marked live or Money, opens each on a card of its own with Open in Money, and counts them in the cash total.

Finding the subscription three ways 5.413 · Aug 31, 2026 · 05:31 UTC

Seats and bank sync attach to the Stripe subscription behind a plan, and the app found it only through PMPro’s subscription record, which in Stripe Checkout mode is written when Stripe’s webhook arrives and can lag, or never come for a renewal that costs nothing today.

Renewing inside a paid month costs nothing today 5.412 · Aug 31, 2026 · 05:21 UTC

Cancelling ends the subscription at Stripe and keeps the plan open until its paid date, so Renew started a fresh subscription, charged the full price on the spot, and threw away the days already paid for. Renewing the same plan while it is still paid up now costs nothing at checkout and starts billing on the old end date, the checkout page says so above the form, and the Billing panel says so beside the date.

Bank sync and a plan that is ending 5.411 · Aug 31, 2026 · 05:06 UTC

A cancelled plan stays open until its paid date but nothing renews behind it, so no invoice can carry a per-bank line; the card said no subscription behind it yet, which was true and unhelpful. It now says the plan is cancelled, names the date it ends, and says that resubscribing brings the button back.

Bank sync knows who can be billed 5.410 · Aug 31, 2026 · 04:58 UTC

Turning the add-on on failed for an administrator with the answer not configured: the prices were set, but an administrator’s plan is active by right rather than by a Stripe subscription, so there was no invoice to carry the line. Administrators now get bank sync without a charge, since the site’s owner is the one paying Plaid; everyone else sees the button only when a subscription stands behind their plan, and is told plainly when it does not.

The two plugins cannot fatal each other 5.409 · Aug 31, 2026 · 04:43 UTC

Every call across the boundary between the app and Money — may this person link, what is their cap, a bank was linked — now catches and records instead of dying, so a billing hiccup can never take a bank link down with it, and Money’s Turn on bank sync button says exactly what the server answered, code and all, instead of doing nothing.

Bank sync stops costing when a plan does 5.408 · Aug 31, 2026 · 04:33 UTC

When a plan lapsed, syncing stopped but the connections at Plaid did not, and Plaid keeps billing the site per bank. Once a day now, any account whose Bank sync has been off or unpaid for more than three days has every bank unlinked, at Plaid too, and is emailed to say so; three days so a card that fails on the first and clears on the third loses nothing.

One switch for what the lock screen says 5.407 · Aug 31, 2026 · 04:18 UTC

Show previews and Anyone can read this both decided whether the words of a notification reached the face, and two switches over one thing can disagree. Show previews is gone.

Anyone can read this, kept this time 5.406 · Aug 31, 2026 · 04:06 UTC

The lock screen has two face painters, and 5.405 fixed the one that is no longer shown. The newer face, the one with notifications grouped by system, is now governed by Anyone can read this as well: Show nothing hides the pile, the widgets and the countdown; Counts only reduces the pile to a number, keeps a widget’s figure without the words, names the countdown without its title, and blanks every card’s words.

Anyone can read this, kept 5.405 · Aug 30, 2026 · 03:54 UTC

The lock screen’s Anyone can read this setting governed only the waiting lines; the notification pile beneath drew every title and subtitle whatever it was set to, and so did the widgets and the countdown. It is the master switch for the whole face now.

Bank sync, as an add-on 5.404 · Aug 30, 2026 · 03:44 UTC

Money can link a bank through Plaid, which has sat behind an admin allowlist because every connected bank costs the site a monthly fee. It is an add-on now, priced the way it is billed: per connected bank, per month, up to a cap, prorated the day a bank is linked or unlinked, as a quantity on your own subscription.

Mail in, and the phone knows 5.403 · Aug 30, 2026 · 03:26 UTC

The push for an arriving message rode WP-Cron, which on a shared host only runs when someone happens to visit the site, so the message arrived and the phone stayed quiet. The push now goes out inside the hook itself, fire-and-forget to each device’s push service, which takes milliseconds and stays well inside Postmark’s limit.

Mail in, room for the attachment 5.402 · Aug 30, 2026 · 03:10 UTC

The host answered Postmark with 413 before WordPress ran: an attachment base64-encoded inside the JSON pushed the request past Apache’s default body limit. The plugin now writes one line to .htaccess, between markers of its own the way WordPress writes its rules, raising that limit to 64 MB; the admin panel says whether it managed to, and what to do in cPanel if ModSecurity’s own limit still answers 413.

Mail in answers at once 5.401 · Aug 30, 2026 · 02:54 UTC

Postmark gives a webhook about ten seconds and the first real message did not make it: the hook was pushing a notification to every device before replying. It now stores the message, replies immediately, and sends the push on a scheduled event a second later.

Forward it to yourself 5.400 · Aug 30, 2026 · 02:22 UTC

Every account has a private address at in.miya.life, under Settings › Integrations › Email in. Forward a booking, a receipt, a newsletter, an invitation, and it arrives in the app as a message waiting to be filed, with a push saying so.

Tags you tap, and reasons you can read 5.399 · Aug 30, 2026 · 02:09 UTC

NFC: Settings › Integrations writes a tag. Pick what a tap does — capture, scan, the shopping list, focus, Today, Household, Talk, the emergency card, sharing your location for an hour, or a link of your own — and hold a blank sticker to the phone.

Household, a room rather than a setting 5.398 · Aug 30, 2026 · 02:00 UTC

Sharing is granted system by system, which is right for privacy and left no room where the household is together. There is one now, in People & Places.

Talk, as good as the one on your phone 5.397 · Aug 30, 2026 · 01:51 UTC

Voice notes: hold the mic, talk, let go; the note travels like a photo does and the browser’s own recogniser writes the transcript beneath it, so a voice note is also searchable text. Replies: any message can be answered in place, quoted above the answer, and a tap on the quote jumps to it.

Where the household is 5.396 · Aug 30, 2026 · 01:30 UTC

The Map gained a Household button. Share where you are for fifteen minutes, an hour, three, or twelve; the app sends a position every twenty seconds or twenty metres while it is open or in the foreground, the others on your plan see a soft initialled dot on their Map with how fresh it is and how far from them, and every share ends on its own.

Bring your life in, and a household you join by scanning 5.395 · Aug 30, 2026 · 01:17 UTC

Settings › Data grew into a wizard, and the same panel opens from the palette or a first-run offer when an account is nearly empty. People come from the phone’s own contact picker where the browser has one, or a .vcf from anywhere.

Share to miya, and a card to scan 5.394 · Aug 30, 2026 · 00:55 UTC

Sharing to miya.life from another app used to land on a 410 page: the share sheet was aimed at the public share-page route, whose token check failed on a plain 1. It arrives on its own door now, as a POST the worker catches so pictures and files come too, parked in a cache and handed to the app on the next paint.

Business & Management, present when chosen 5.393 · Aug 30, 2026 · 23:55 UTC

The board dropped any family whose systems were all switched off, and the four in Business & Management — Business, Deals, Contracts, Expenses — are opt-in and off until chosen. So the family could be ticked in Arrange & hide and still never appear.

Five hundred and eighty-seven buttons 5.392 · Aug 30, 2026 · 23:05 UTC

A bug hunt by machine: every button on every page and every Settings tab pressed once, every input filled and submitted, under a watch for anything thrown — 587 buttons and 37 inputs across 66 pages and 17 tabs. It found three.

Settings › Money asks in every dialect 5.391 · Aug 30, 2026 · 22:38 UTC

The Money tab showed the whole of Money rather than its settings, because the frame asked in words only Money 3.10 knows and used a hash form older builds do not read. It now asks three ways at once: the route as #/settings, which every Money build has understood since the start; view=settings and embed=1 on the address for 3.10 and later, which also drop Money’s own bar and tabs; and the same request posted to the frame by message once it loads, for a host that strips query strings.

The review 5.390 · Aug 30, 2026 · 22:24 UTC

A full audit rather than a feature. Every one of seventy pages and eighteen Settings tabs was opened under a console watch; seventy-two view tabs were clicked and twenty-six New drawers opened; every client call was matched to a server route, every tour step to a real page.

A conversation that looks like one, a ledger that lines up 5.389 · Aug 30, 2026 · 22:10 UTC

Talk reads like a phone now: bubbles with a tail, yours on the right in the accent and hers on the left, the time inside each, a chip whenever the day turns, consecutive bubbles pulling together, three dots while she thinks, Copy and Save and Resend on hover, and a search box that hides whatever does not match.

Money’s settings, inside Settings 5.388 · Aug 30, 2026 · 21:55 UTC

Settings gained a Money tab: every setting Miya Money has, framed right here and signed in with the same cookie, so nothing sends you to another tab to flip a switch. Money keeps its own Settings page too — this is that page, not a copy.

Twelve fixes and three rebuilds 5.387 · Aug 30, 2026 · 21:47 UTC

A sweep, then some building. The lock screen’s Notification settings now raises the PIN pad and lands on the right tab — it used to do nothing at all.

Fourteen days, every key yours, the dock where thumbs are 5.386 · Aug 30, 2026 · 20:55 UTC

The Help card claimed a thirty-day trial; it is fourteen, and now says so. Every lettered shortcut is yours to change: Ask and Lock joined the rebindable set, so Ctrl J and Ctrl Alt L are defaults rather than law — both rows sit in Settings › Shortcuts with their chords spelled out, and the card follows whatever you choose.

The card that cannot lie, and smaller sparks 5.385 · Aug 30, 2026 · 06:24 UTC

The shortcut card now tells the whole truth: rebind a key in Settings and the card follows; Ctrl J sits on it beside Ctrl K; and the three places that still carried the old popup wording — the board hint and two tour steps — now describe where asking actually lands. The per-system Ask buttons are smaller and tighter, so five panes side by side no longer wear a column of big stars.

Rules grown up, Learn made a studio, one Miya 5.384 · Aug 30, 2026 · 06:07 UTC

The rules engine now watches seventeen more things — transactions, health numbers, runs, focus sessions, intentions, plants, invoices and more — carries an Only if layer (wording contains, amount at least or under, chosen weekdays) and fourteen actions: events, countdowns, habit ticks, health logs, journal lines, the week’s three, focus timers, tags, completing the task it points at, and webhooks.

A reply that says what it cost 5.383 · Aug 30, 2026

A question about your own records was sometimes billed as two replies because the model ran a web search it never needed — and nothing said so. Three fixes.

Dated, toured, and on the board 5.382 · Aug 30, 2026 · 05:08 UTC

Every release from 5.373 on now carries its date and time here and in the app. The tour gained a chapter walking the newest rooms, and the board gained faces: a Learn tile with the cards due today, and a Reviews tile that leads with the week’s three.

The one-character war with the host, won 5.381 · Aug 30, 2026 · 04:59 UTC

Since 5.376 the binder’s print code carried the literal text of a closing html tag inside a JavaScript string, and managed hosts splice their footer at the first one they find, cutting the script mid-line. The tags are assembled at runtime now, and the ship checks refuse any build carrying more than the document’s own closers.

The loader that can explain itself 5.380 · Aug 30, 2026 · 04:47 UTC

The rescue screen carries a copyable line naming the build the device holds, whether the app started, and the first script error caught. The version endpoint gained a deploy validator: byte count, both stamps, and whether the file ends where it should, straight from the server’s disk.

A rescue on the splash, a cache that cannot lie 5.379 · Aug 30, 2026 · 04:33 UTC

If the app takes more than twelve seconds to arrive, the loading screen itself offers Repair and reload: every cached copy and worker dropped, the world fetched fresh. And the installed app’s cache now reads every byte to the end before keeping a copy, so a stream cut mid-transfer can never be served forever.

The day-shaped OS 5.378 · Aug 30, 2026 · 04:14 UTC

Home follows the day: mornings lead with the plan and the pills, afternoons with the work, evenings with the page and tomorrow’s shape, your own order deciding ties. The bar runs commands now — sleep 8, done taxes, seal, intend, binder, audit. Quiet hours hold every alert and wear a small moon. Comfort in one tap.

Four quiet bugs, gone before anyone met them 5.377 · Aug 30, 2026 · 04:01 UTC

A hardening pass on the private tier: version restore decrypts instead of destroying, another device’s sealed edit wins instead of being silently resealed over, the Trash is sealed along with everything else, and the diary’s first line counts runs as well as gym sessions.

The binder, the first line, the week’s three 5.376 · Aug 30, 2026 · 03:54 UTC

One serif printout of what a household needs on the worst day: the emergency card, policies, papers, bills, who needs feeding. The diary’s first line writes itself from the day’s records, never without a tap. And each week holds at most three intentions, ticked from Home, reckoned with in the review.

Doors to the outside, and foresight 5.375 · Aug 30, 2026 · 02:07 UTC

The calendar feed carries bills and countdowns to any calendar app. Rules can call your own webhooks with the record attached, and a Test button fires a sample. A mic in the add drawer. And two new noticers: a trip in the next week starts a packing task and checks the passports; a day with four meetings and four due tasks gets named the day before.

Seven at once 5.374 · Aug 30, 2026 · 01:52 UTC

A private tier, sealed with a passphrase this side of the wire. Bank CSV, Todoist and Keep imports with a preview and one Undo. A subscriptions audit that asks the honest question. Chores with points and a weekly grid. A review that drafts itself. Four new noticers, and a highlight in the reader becomes a flashcard.

Sixteen gaps, closed 5.373 · Aug 29, 2026

On this day on Home. A year, wrapped, on Insights. Learn: flashcards on a spaced schedule. A time ledger. A printable week. Voice memos on notes. Version history on records. A duress PIN. Emergency card on the lock screen. A legacy contact the server checks for. Rules that run on a clock. Playbooks that import and export. A home inventory with photos and print.

The pager sits with what it pages 5.363

The arrow that turns to the second lock screen page used to be pinned to the edge of the window: beside the content on a phone, and most of a metre away from it on a desktop. Arrows and dots are one centred row under the content now.

Notifications, grouped the way a phone groups them 5.360

Everything waiting is now grouped by system, newest first inside each group, with the system’s icon and name on every card. A group can be opened or folded, cleared on its own, or silenced for an hour, for the day, or for good. Right-click on a desktop, or press and hold on a phone, for that menu.

The lock screen shows what is waiting 5.356

Notifications on the lock screen were off unless you found the switch, which meant most people never saw them. They are on unless you turn them off, and the count, stacked and list layouts all work the way they do on a phone.

Widgets that say something worth reading 5.355

Every system has a reader of its own, so a widget shows the thing rather than a count: the next event and when, the bill and the amount, four of six habits done, the minutes on a running timer. Drag to rearrange them, tap to resize, and do it from the lock screen itself.

A second page, and editing in place 5.351

Up to twenty-four widgets: four under the clock and the rest one page across. Rearranging them asks for your PIN and then hands the lock screen back, without opening the app, because unlocking your whole life to move a widget is the wrong trade.

Your computer tells you 5.349

Notifications now come from the operating system rather than as cards inside an app that is already on screen. A real window, in the corner, that brings you to the right system when you click it.

A number on every tile 5.344

Each system tile carries how many things in it are waiting, and a family card carries the total of the systems inside it. The bell, the tile, the family and the lock screen all read one count, so they can never disagree.

Everything about the assistant in one place 5.340

A Settings section of its own: what to call it, which model answers, what it can read, what it may change in each system, and a list of everything it has done.

It can act in every system 5.338

Four verbs that work on any record rather than a hand-written one per screen, so the assistant can create, change, complete and remove things across all forty-eight systems. It only ever sets fields that records of that type already use, everything arrives with an Undo, and a deletion always waits for your tap.

Rules that watch anything 5.335

A rule can now watch any of fifteen systems for one of three moments: something is added, something is finished, or a date on it is coming up in however many days you choose.

Night light, and a lock you cannot lift without the PIN 5.333

A warm sheet over everything after dark, on a schedule that crosses midnight properly. And taking a PIN off a system now asks for the PIN, which it never used to.

Panels behave like windows 5.329

Split the screen and each panel has the controls a window has: send it down, fill the area, full screen, close. Drag one by its bar onto another and they trade places.

A greeting that knows the hour 5.325

Eighty-four lines across seven parts of the day, changing as the day moves and again tomorrow. Write your own if you would rather.

Sign in with Google, and your calendar both ways 5.283

Google sign-in, two-way calendar sync, and email straight into the app. Importers that know Todoist, TickTick, Notion, Keep and Apple Notes by name rather than asking for a generic file.

A receipt you photograph 5.275

The picture becomes lines you confirm before anything is saved.

A calendar the household shares 5.268

Repeating events, shared calendars, and a task you can hand to somebody.

It speaks your language 5.264

A locale picker, type that scales properly on a phone, and an accessibility pass across every screen and settings tab.

A changelog anyone can read 5.259

A public list of what has shipped, and a status page, on the site.

Medications, and a band that keeps time 5.223

A day-view checklist for what you take and when. The running band on a tile keeps its own seconds rather than waiting for the screen to repaint.

Every control the same size 5.211

Buttons, chips and switches had drifted to three different heights on one row. One measure, applied everywhere.

Notes with folders 5.210

Folders, pinning, drag to reorder, and timestamps that say when rather than nothing.

Search that finds settings 5.205

A word index over every setting, plus search inside the calendar and across task lists.

Income split across accounts 5.200

Assign a bill to the account it actually leaves, with what is left over worked out per account.

Everything overdue in one place 5.196

Tasks, bills, invoices and things you lent, on the day view, with the habits due today beside them.

A frozen clip unsticks itself 5.190

A video wallpaper stops for reasons that have nothing to do with the app, and the element still believes it is playing. Now the only thing that tells the truth is watched: whether its clock is moving.

Backgrounds that stay where they belong 5.185

A system background had been fixed to the window and not scoped to system screens, which is what put a white wash over light mode everywhere.

Thirty-seven tile surfaces 5.175

Materials with their own light and dark treatments, per tile, and twelve grounds behind the systems.

Refreshing without reloading 5.156

The header button repairs the screen in place rather than throwing the whole app away and starting again.

The board became yours to arrange 5.153

Tiles at the size you want them, per band, with hold-and-slide reordering on a phone. Widgets that show a system’s own number without opening it.

Fifteen systems redrawn, part three 5.125

Tax, business, deals, lent, library and the vault got drawings of their own.

Plants, recipes, gifts and the map 5.124

Every plant is drawn from its own name: hue, form, leaf count, lean, and a soil bar showing how much of the watering gap has passed. Every recipe is a plate with food on it. Every gift is a parcel whose ribbon colour comes from who it is for. The map stopped being nearly black in dark mode.

Fifteen systems redrawn 5.123

Every system got a drawing of its own instead of an emoji: an emoji is somebody else’s picture of your life, and it renders differently on every device.

One rail, in one place 5.122

The forward and back arrows for walking between systems had lived inside each system’s own button row, so they moved as you went. One element, made once, fixed to the edge.

Walk the systems 5.119

Forward and back through every system in your own order, wrapping both ways so a demonstration never dead-ends. Alt and the arrow keys.

A period that ends 5.117

Cycle could tell when one started but had no notion of one being over, so it only ever counted up. Now it has a start and an end, and you can correct both.

Money, inside the app 5.111

The finance app opens inside miya.life rather than only next door.

Point the camera at your plate 5.107

A photo becomes an estimate you can edit: name, confidence, and a line per item with calories and macros.

Barcodes that scan on a phone 5.106

Safari ships no barcode reader, so one is carried in the app: a frame every 350ms through a real decoder. Typing the number still works.

Amounts in units that make sense 5.105

Grams, ounces, millilitres, cups, spoons and pounds, converted against the serving on the packet rather than assumed.

Every other week 5.101

Bi-weekly bills and income in both apps. The maths knew about it; the editors did not, so an every-fortnight income silently saved as monthly.

It reaches a locked phone 5.100

The next two days of alarms and reminders go to the server, and a minute-by-minute job pushes them when they are due.

Take the photo here 5.99

A viewfinder inside the app for progress photos and the quick log, rather than leaving to the camera and coming back.

Reviews you can reopen 5.97

A filed weekly review used to be three flat lines. It opens in the shape it was written, with the week’s numbers and your answers exactly as you left them.

An event that runs past midnight 5.96

Ending before it started was refused, so nothing could run from Friday afternoon to Saturday morning. An end before the start now means the next day, and the day after shows it still going.

A finance app of its own 5.88

Money became its own system in Finances & Budgeting, with this app’s figures shown first.

Connections 5.81

One graph with three faces: a map of your life laid out by arithmetic so it is tidy every time, a single thread through everything in order, and clusters that total the money. Any fan-out of four or more collapses into one node with a count, because sixty transactions pointing at one account drew a hairball.

A review that remembers last week’s promise 5.80

Reviews had stored what you said you would change and nobody ever read it back. Now the review opens with what moved, what stalled, and last week’s promise quoted at you.

The assistant can see the whole graph 5.79

Every message carries what is linked to what and everything from the last fortnight on one line, so it can answer about the shape of things rather than one screen.

It notices, and proposes 5.78

Three rules only: something ended with no task about it, a bill due with no money leaving, a habit quiet three weeks. It proposes and never writes, because nothing should be created that you did not create.

One thread through everything 5.77

Every system on one chronological line, month by month, asking each record when it happened rather than when it was typed.

Records that point at each other 5.76

Any record can be linked to any other with a reason, stored as ordinary records so they sync, export and undo. Every drawer shows what it is connected to, and "everything about this" goes two hops, so the car reaches the note attached to its warranty.

The trial clock stopped resetting 5.75

The members page wrote "now" whenever a start date was missing, and it did that once per row per visit, so everybody showed a full thirty days for ever.

The tour, tidied 5.74

Forty-nine chapters and a hundred and thirty-seven screen changes became twenty and ninety, with nothing removed.

The tour actually shows you 5.73

It had a hundred and twenty-one steps but visited seven screens, so forty-seven systems were described and never seen. Now every system is shown on its own screen.

Ready for more people 5.72

A hidden tab now asks the server for nothing, and the nightly jobs work from a cursor with a time budget instead of walking every account in one run and dying partway, silently, every night.

An admin page that does not grow 5.71

Listing every account inline meant three thousand accounts made an unscrollable page from six thousand queries. Paged, searchable, and its numbers come from three grouped queries no matter the size.

Files from abandoned trials 5.69

Sixty days after an account was last seen, not after its trial ended, because somebody who came back is not abandoned, the files go. Records never do. Nothing is deleted without a warning email at least six days earlier.

Dragging a video stopped downloading it 5.68

Seeking in a clip fetched the entire file to cut the piece out of it, every time. Now the range is asked for and passed straight through.

Video 5.65

Clips on the same records and the same engine as photos, playable and seekable, and sendable in a message. The file endpoint learned byte ranges, without which a player cannot seek and an iPhone refuses to play at all.

Files moved off the expensive disk 5.61

Files are named so that a half-migrated account serves every one either way, from disk or from the bucket, with no flag and no schema change.

Extra replies, bought and banked 5.57

A purchase carries your account id with it, so it lands on the right account even if the address on the card is different. An unmatched payment writes a record rather than disappearing.

The same reply for half the cost 5.56

History is tapered rather than cut: the last three turns stay whole because they are the conversation, older ones shrink and say so.

Replies are not units of cost 5.55

One person’s reply can cost fifty times another’s, so cutting everyone’s limit punishes the many for the few. Repeat questions got cheaper instead.

It tells us when it breaks 5.54

The failure nobody reports is the one where the app looks fine: a sync queue stuck for ten minutes now says so. And a daily snapshot per account, restorable, drilled at two hundred and fifty records in under a second.

The sync saga 5.52

Four rounds chasing one "you are offline" on a connected machine. A failed nonce refresh locked recovery for the whole session; every error said offline including a 403; fourteen requests had no timeout so a hung one left the badge spinning for ever; and underneath it all, one record belonging to another account was refused, retried, refused, for ever. A permanent rejection is now set aside rather than retried.

The news stopped costing money nobody spent 5.51

A briefing generated itself on a timer for every account whether or not anyone opened the app. Now one briefing is made for everybody and your own line is computed on your device.

It stopped looking factory-fresh 5.50

Signing in on one device could show the setup wizard, the tour and default everything, because the app decided you were new before the first sync had answered. It now waits, and when two profiles exist it keeps the one with a life in it rather than the newest.

A trial that says something 5.49

Three letters across the trial, each opening with what you actually built rather than a countdown.

Habits that stopped disappearing 5.48

Signing in on a new phone merged every habit sharing a name: two called "Read" in different groups became one, on every device. A habit’s group is part of its identity now, a merge asks first, and there is a button that brings back the ones already lost.

Add to the home screen, any browser 5.45

Since iOS 16.4 that is not only Safari, and the app said otherwise.

It works with no signal 5.44

An installed app offline showed nothing at all, because the part meant to serve it was empty. And inside the installed shell every safe-area measurement read zero, which is why there was a gap at the bottom of the screen.

On the Microsoft Store 5.43

Translation it owns 5.42

Rather than asking a translator again and again, the app keeps what it has learned, and it never touches what you typed, live numbers or the clock.

Events grew up 5.41

End times, places, and as many reminders as you want.

A board with something on it 5.40

A new account opens on a board that already looks like something rather than an empty grid.

First run, repaired 5.39

Signing up waited on two emails being sent. The tour never started for anyone without a PIN. And a grandfather credit meant to reward old accounts fired on brand new ones.

Calls that connect 5.37

Twilio answers 201 on success and both checks demanded exactly 200, so every successfully minted credential was branded refused and thrown away. Also: audio only starts inside a real gesture on an iPhone, and a warning that waits on a fetch must stay quiet until the fetch has answered.

Wallpapers that move 5.36

Silk that flows, pools that orbit, skies with weather in them. Thirty frames a second by design, and the lock screen slows them further.

A PIN on one system 5.29

Lock a single system rather than the whole app.

The calendar started telling the truth 5.28

Five systems had been filed under field names the app never wrote, so bills, policies, medications and trips had been invisible on the calendar since the day they were added.

It stopped spending on nothing 5.22

A reply was charged for before the model was asked, and the news generated itself on every boot. Now nothing is charged unless something came back.

Confirming your email 5.19

Creating an account no longer signs you straight in; the link in the letter is the way in. Two letters were being sent and each burned the other’s token.

The tour walks all of them 5.13

Every system, with an example for each.

Start over, without losing your account 5.11

Empties every system and keeps your login, plan and PIN. A device that was offline during the reset cannot bring the old records back.

Pictures stopped living in the database 5.10

Attachments over a certain size move to disk, in the background, with the old copy kept until the new one is confirmed.

Knowing what is left 5.9

A meter for replies and storage, and three honest doors when it runs out: your own key, buy more, or wait for the reset.

What you feel, and where a goal is going 5.7

Eight families of emotion on a wheel. Goals gained horizons from a week to a lifetime, and connect both ways to a vision board.

Calls with more than one person 5.5

Up to six, each connected to each, with the first name alphabetically making the offers so two people never both call at once.

Fourteen things at once 4.99

Maps, trips, people and photos rebuilt 4.94

Every system rebuilt to look like the best in its category 4.92

The end of a programme through all fifty-six: cards, covers, summary strips, filter chips, real empty states, and a first action that is not just Edit.

Talk grew up 4.86

Phone-style alerts, presence, group management and video calling.

One system per round 4.54

The start of the deepening programme: measure what is there, name what the best app in that category does that this does not, build it, prove it.

Tiles that do something 4.46

Twenty-seven kinds of tile, eighteen of them live counts, six of them actions, each naming the system it comes from. A world clock that will find any city.

Everything joined up 4.44

Fourteen kinds of link already existed in the data and nothing showed them. Now a record shows what it is connected to: the invoice on the client, the log on the plant, in one strip, both directions.

It stopped asking the same question 213 times 4.43

Reading your profile walked every record and happened 213 times in a single render. The calendar asked the store 1,768 times to draw 139 boxes. Both now ask once: the calendar went from 789ms to 72.

Long lists stopped being slow 4.42

Two thousand tasks took a quarter of a second to draw because every one became a page element. A hundred and fifty at a time with a "show more" is flat at any size.

A way back into your own PIN 4.40

The forgotten-PIN path made an authenticated call and cleared the PIN if it worked, and on a signed-in device that always works, so anyone holding it was one tap past the lock. Replaced with a recovery question and a one-time code, plus rate limiting that survives a reload.

It stopped running out of room 4.36

Pictures and wallpapers were kept as text in a five-megabyte box, so four wallpapers could stop your tasks saving. They live in a proper store now, and with an account a full cache is not data loss at all, so it no longer warns you as though it were.

Nothing traps your keyboard 4.34

Every overlay now takes focus when it opens, keeps it while it is up, and gives it back when it closes.

Measured, not guessed 4.33

An audit across twenty-two screens: buttons that were 21 pixels tall on a phone, and a grey that failed contrast in both themes.

A lock screen 4.29

A six-digit PIN, asked for again after a reload every time. The old one kept its unlocked flag somewhere that survived one, which is why it never asked twice.

A guided tour 4.28

Thirty-five steps across fifteen chapters, each one standing on the real screen it describes rather than a picture of it, and the systems chapter is built from your own systems so it cannot go stale.

Two things at once 4.22

One grid with up to four panes and six layouts, replacing two separate side panels. One of them had been quietly broken, repainting the main screen instead of its own.

Settings stopped looking wrong 4.21

Every complaint traced to the same cause: rules written twice, in different places, both applying. One authoritative layer at the end of the stylesheet.

Undo, everywhere 3.27

Ctrl+Z and Ctrl+Shift+Z across every system, sixty deep, with the machine’s own writes kept out of your history.

It tells you when it has updated 3.24

The app checks its own version after starting and when you come back to the tab, and reloads itself on a new one rather than leaving you on last week’s.

Silk 3.19

Wallpapers drawn as flowing bands rather than gradients.

Scenes that follow the day 3.17

Systems grouped the way the site describes them 3.16

Calls, and sharing a page with someone 3.13

Photos, and people you can call 3.12

The forty-ninth system, with albums and an On This Day strip. Contacts learned phone numbers and .vcf import.

A wall of your life 3.11

Everything at a pulse, in one place, with the cycle deliberately left out of it.

Lent and borrowed, and the pantry 3.10

What you have lent and to whom, both directions. And a pantry row you tap to cycle from fine to low to out, which then sweeps into the shopping list.

Business became its own group 3.9

Deals, contracts and expenses, with an expense filing itself as a tax deduction in one tap. Opt-in, because not everybody runs one.

Workouts, wishlist, billable time 3.8

"Bench x3x8 @135" becomes sets, reps and weight. A wishlist that counts the days you waited and the money you kept. Time logged against a client turns into an invoice line.

Signing up started working 3.7

Every redirect to the app was being silently stripped, which is why registering went to the wrong place. The nightly jobs had also been running on server time, so a seven o’clock digest arrived at three.

Groups instead of areas 3.6

A briefing worth reading 3.5

One sentence about the day and at most five human lines, rather than a list of what changed.

A start screen while it loads 3.4

Talk to it, hands free 3.3

The microphone opens a conversation rather than taking one sentence: it listens, answers aloud, and opens the ear again, and it stops the moment you start talking over it.

It reads answers aloud 3.2

School, and messages that hold pictures 3.1

Terms, classes, assignments and a weighted GPA. Group chats up to twenty-five with photos, archiving, and deleting for everyone or just yourself.

Billing, honestly 2.3

Read-only rather than locked out when a plan lapses, a billing tab that says what is true, and pricing the site can show.

History on every record 2.2

What changed and when, per record. Weekly backup emails, sync in pages rather than all at once, and a plain message when two devices disagree.

Sharing with family 2.1

Per-system grants so somebody sees the shopping list and not the bank. An audit trail. An assistant button on every system, and a palette that will answer anything.

Nine systems in one go 2.0

Vehicle, home care, warranties, pets, insurance, tax, an emergency card, gifts and plants. And notifications that reach a phone.

It became usable on a phone 1.8

A sweep across every screen at phone width, and selecting many things at once.