The Long Exhale
Four counts in. Six counts out. Thirty breaths.
Sleep the way you normally do. Night Zero is the reading everything else gets measured against, so it has to be an ordinary night. Record the numbers when you wake up.
In bed, lights off. On your back, jaw softened. In through your nose for four, out through your mouth for six, longer than feels natural. No holds at either end. Thirty breaths.
30 breaths
5:00
Tap Soft tone for an audio prompt on every breath. A low note to breathe in, a lower one to breathe out, so the phone can go face down and you can keep your eyes closed.
Filling this in the morning? Pick the night you slept, not today's date.
Straight off your ring or watch, no math.
How settled you felt this afternoon, one to ten. One is settled and easy. Ten is wired and unable to sit still. Tired is not the same as settled, so if you were exhausted and still could not switch off, that is a high number. Answer fast, do not think about it.
Saved
Compared against your most recent seven logged nights.
Nothing logged yet.
One at night to start the breathing, one in the morning to write down what happened. Both repeat for thirty-one days and land in the calendar you already use.
Your phone will ask whether to add them. Say yes to both.
Everything you type lives in this browser on this device. It is never sent anywhere, and there is no account, no server, and no copy of it that I can see.
Which is also the risk. Clearing your browsing data or switching phones erases the log. Back it up every week or two.
Turn this off and those two fields disappear. The experiment still works. Minutes to fall asleep, night wakings, and the 4pm score carry it on their own.