Mind Terrarium
Check in
Pick how bright the day was, tap what shaped it, add a note if you want to. About twenty seconds. Or switch to voice and just talk until your head is empty.
In development
Clear your mind.
Clear your mind.
Grow a world.
Mind Terrarium turns one quiet check-in at the end of the day into a living, bioluminescent world. Twenty seconds of tapping — or however long you feel like talking — and the rest takes care of itself.
Coming soon to
the App Store
Coming soon to
Google Play
Not on the stores yet.
One check-in. That's the whole ask.
No streak guilt, no feed, no one else to perform for. You show up at the end of the day, and the terrarium does the rest.
Read your day back
It comes back as a short reflection written to you, in the second person — never advice, never a chatbot. It remembers the last few days, so a rough Monday can get a callback on a better Friday.
Watch it grow
Every reflection earns stardust and feeds the streak. Spend it in the Nursery, coax creatures out of wisps, and rearrange the whole dome tile by tile until it looks like yours.
Fourteen species, and none of them arrive quickly.
Plants and creatures have to be coaxed out of a wisp — a light you leave burning for a day, three days, or a whole week before it finally opens. Every one was created by an artist, and more are on the way.
Glow Mushroom
FaintA relatively common find, but it comes in a dazzling variety of colors — a little burst of life in every corner of the terrarium.
Moon Larva
FaintA glowing, worm-shaped creature — cheap to restore, and often the first light a new terrarium ever sees.
Glow Beetle
FaintA little beetle whose body glows bright turquoise when it pauses to stretch before scuttling on.
Lunar Fern
FaintA melancholy, moonlit fern — little more than a single stem and a few trailing leaves, glowing a soft lunar white.
Glimmerstone
FaintA humble slab of stone furred over in glowing moss. Nothing in the terrarium takes hold faster, and nothing asks for less.
Spore Lantern
FaintPaper-thin caps that hold their light the way a porch lantern holds a summer night — left burning for whoever comes home last.
Starbloom
GlimmeringIt opens only in full dark. The star at its heart is said to be a piece of sky that fell in one night and decided to stay.
Nebula Vine
GlimmeringA slow, curling climber beaded with dew that each hold a tiny galaxy. Give it a season and it will have mapped the whole dome.
Comet Snail
GlimmeringIts shell is a spiral of frozen night sky, and the trail it leaves behind keeps glowing for hours after it has moved on.
Sun Slug
GlimmeringA warm ember of a creature that drifts along the soil giving off heat. The terrarium is always a degree kinder wherever it has been.
Eclipse Lily
RadiantIt blooms as a corona of gold around a petal-black centre — one perfect eclipse, held for as long as you keep tending it.
Voidwood Sapling
RadiantDead-black wood veined with living blue. It grew from a seed that fell out of nothing at all, and it is in no hurry to explain itself.
Void Maw
RadiantA patient, smiling mouth on a stem. It has never once been seen to eat, which somehow only makes it worse.
Astral Tarantula
RadiantEight deliberate legs and a back set with red starlight. Fearsome to look at and entirely gentle — it simply likes the company.
More are on their way.
What's in the dome
Everything here exists to make one small nightly habit worth keeping — and to make missing a night feel survivable.
Three ways to reflect
Tap through the check-in when you're tired, hold the button and speak when there's more to say, or just type it out. Switch between them whenever you like — they all end up in the same journal.
Weekly and monthly recaps
Sunday through Saturday, then the whole month. Not a day-by-day list — the arc across the days, and the patterns you don't notice while you're inside them.
Stardust and the Wisp Market
Every reflection pays out stardust, and everything already growing pays out a little more. Spend it on new plants, or on wisps — Faint, Glimmering and Radiant — that take a day to a week to open.
Arrange it yourself
Drag any plant onto any free tile in the isometric grid. Creatures wander wherever they like and path around whatever you've planted.
Photos on a day
Attach a picture or two to any day. They're copied into the app's own storage and can be backed up in the settings.
No account, no feed
Nothing to sign up for and nobody to follow. Your journal lives on your device. The only thing that leaves is the entry itself, sent to Google's Gemini to write the reflection — and nothing is kept on a server of ours, because there isn't one. Read the full privacy policy.
Your own words, kept
Every entry stays browsable — search it, filter it, and open any day to read the transcript exactly as you said it.
Right now your terrarium is dark.
It stays that way until something gets planted in it. Mind Terrarium is in development for iOS and Android.
Coming soon to
the App Store
Coming soon to
Google Play