Blū measures your days.
It does not measure you.

It is a measuring instrument. Every evening it asks you the same questions about seven areas of your life and keeps the answers, and that is most of what it does. The part that takes longer is learning what the questions are actually asking, which is why I teach one area a week for the first ten weeks. A question about expression means something different once you have spent a week on expression.

It is pronounced CHUH-kruh, with the ch of chair, which almost nobody does. Seven places in the body, each one standing for a part of experience. Root is the ground under you. Throat is expression. Here they are named areas to ask about, and that is all they have to be.

Because the alternative was making up seven categories nobody has heard of, and that is worse. The seven cover the ground without overlapping, they have been in use a very long time, and plenty of people already have some handle on them. I borrowed the seven, their order, and where they sit in the body. The questions are mine. Whether the map holds up as a way of measuring is a real question, and I am testing it rather than assuming it.

Then do not. Nothing in here asks you to. Take intuition. In the older tradition the knowledge is already inside you and you are scraping away what sits on top of it. If you are more spiritual than that, you might say prayer is how you talk to God and intuition is how God talks to you. If you are not, it is the thing you already knew before you could explain how you knew it. Blū asks the same question either way. It does not need to know which one you mean.

A mood tracker asks how you feel and draws a line through it. This asks about seven specific things, every evening, the same way, and then sets your days against your own earlier days. There is no single score. One number cannot tell a mixed day from a settled one, so it does not try.

No. I am not a therapist, Blū is not treatment, and if you are somewhere bad it is not a substitute for actual help. What it does is measure your days and show you what is in the record. What that means is yours.

No, and this one matters to me. There is no good day and no bad day in here. There is no good person and no bad person. Nothing is rated and nothing is scored. It is the fact of the day that it was, and you can do what you like with that.

Right now I do not, not to the standard I want. That is the honest answer. The questions are written and the checking is under way: against established measures of similar things, with people reading them out loud and telling me what they think is being asked, and with a study of whether the seven areas hold up as seven. I will publish what comes back, including the parts that do not work.

You get more exact. That happens in the first few weeks and it is the part people keep. And you get a record that disagrees with you sometimes, which is useful either way, because what you remember about a week is colored by the mood you are in while you are remembering it.

People who already look at themselves a bit and want it to be less vague. If you are in crisis this is the wrong tool, and I would rather tell you that now than have you find out later.

Not on your words. Nothing reads what you write and nothing produces an interpretation of it, and that is a decision rather than a limitation. The noticing is the thing you are here to do. Where a model actually helps is quieter: choosing which question to ask you next so there are fewer of them, and spotting a day that got answered in twenty seconds at midnight.

It is encrypted. I do not read it, nobody reads it, it is not sold, and there is no advertising. Delete your account and it goes.

The teaching stops and the app keeps going. Honestly, the goal is that you need it less. After a while you wake up and you already know: today I want to be present at my daughter's recital, today I have to say the hard thing to my manager. Nothing had to ask you.