All the data this app needs to know about you lives only on your device, encrypted. Nothing about you is stored, logged, or accumulated anywhere else.
In Zen, śūnyatā — emptiness — is not absence but openness: the self has no fixed, independent core.
The self others see when they look at you is a stranger to the one looking out. We all carry versions of ourselves we'll never meet, seen only by the people around us. One Line For Your Mind reflects that. Not just as a theme, but as fundamental structure.
Most web servers pretend to know who you are, collecting every data point, building profiles. This is different: your browser issues a cryptographic seed — a root you hold in your browser, with branches that sprout and die each step you take. The server sees this transiently, on each request, to know where you are in the journey — and each time, it forgets.
This is not a policy promise. It is written deterministically in the code. You can read the full technical design here and review the code here.
One Line For Your Mind asks you to sit in reflection. You are invited to engage as someone partially unknown even to yourself — which is the most honest invitation I can extend.
Control over that belongs entirely to you. If you want to erase your session and begin again, you can do that right now.
Or, you can return to the present.