What's new
The app gets a little more alive every so often. Nothing here ever asks anything of you. It's just there when you happen to find it.
Version 2.1.1 · October 2026
A door, a heartbeat, and a bowl for the night
The door. Choose which apps, and after how many minutes. Reach that limit and one calm scene appears, asking whether you'd like something else. Not a wall but an offer: you can always carry on, right away. Calm Moments never learns which apps you chose, because iOS only hands over opaque references. Turn it on in Settings.
Against your chest. A new exercise under Breathe. The screen goes dark and your phone becomes a calm heart, fifty beats a minute. Hold it to your chest and let your own heart fall in with it. Nothing is measured.
Your rhythm. A rare card: rest a finger on the rear camera and the whole scene beats along with your heart. As your heart settles, the world settles. A number never appears, and no image is kept.
The bowl. Late in the evening a small stone bowl sometimes appears. Set down a pebble for each worry; the app never asks what it is. They stay overnight, and in the morning you choose: take them back, or leave them.
Fireflies. Put a finger down and leave it there. Move and they scatter. Stay still and they drift closer, until one lands on your fingertip.
Scenes you can feel. Sweep sideways across a card and feel what you pass over: sand is grainy, ridges bump softly, water swells. You can turn it off in Settings.
Along the vine: morning dew on the leaves between six and nine, a squirrel that dashes and freezes the way a real one does, and a hedgehog that shuffles right across several cards.
Version 1.5.0 · August 2026
A stream, and clouds you can blow away
Leaves on the stream. Now and then the feed opens onto a quiet stream. Tap the water, set a thought on a leaf in your mind, and watch it drift by. You don't have to do anything with it.
Blow the clouds away. Thoughts as clouds before an evening sky. Blow gently at your phone and they drift apart, and the sky behind them turns out to be full of stars. To blow, you have to breathe out long and slow, which is the whole point, hidden inside the play. The microphone measures volume only; nothing is recorded, ever. Prefer not to? A slow sweep across the sky works just as well.
Three quiet new moments, and never more than one of them in a day: a card that asks for a single word, in thought only. A card that invites your gaze to grow wide. And a card that rewards putting your phone down flat for a while, then says welcome back.
More life, for those who look. A squirrel sits partway up the vine. Two butterflies rest on it. Tap one and it flutters off, returning when it's ready. An extra bee hums around the top, and the ladybug now takes its time, wandering all the way up before it flies away. A hedgehog sometimes shuffles along the bottom of a card, and a small fish glides through the water scenes.
Elsewhere: a calmer settings screen, and a way to invite a friend.
Free, no ads, collects no data. Works offline, and never sends a notification.
