Wabi-Sabi
The Japanese art of finding beauty in imperfection, impermanence, and incompleteness.
What is a Kōan?
In Zen Buddhism, a kōan (公案) is a riddle — a question without a logical answer. "What is the sound of one hand clapping?" The student sits with the question, not to solve it, but to exhaust the thinking mind. When thought stops fighting, something opens.
We named this garden after the kōan because modern productivity is itself a riddle: the more we optimise, the more overwhelmed we become. The more we track, the less we do. The kōan isn't solved — it dissolves. So does the urge to multitask, once you sit with one stone.
"Not thinking about anything is Zen. Once you know this, walking, sitting, or lying down, everything you do is Zen."— Bodhidharma
Why a Zen Garden?
The karesansui — Japanese dry garden — emerged in the 14th century. White gravel raked into wave patterns. Rocks placed with mathematical precision. No water. No soil. No colour except stone, moss, and sky.
In a karesansui, nothing distracts. Every element serves. The raked lines represent the sea — not because they look like it, but because you are asked to see it with imagination rather than eyes. This is the principle we carry digital: a sand that doesn't need to be photorealistic to feel like sand.
The Problem With Productivity
Most productivity tools are built around anxiety. They count your tasks, track your time, log your progress. They reward velocity over depth, completion over comprehension, motion over stillness.
KŌAN is built around a different question: what if your tools encouraged you to be more present instead of more efficient?
One thing
One stone at a time. One intention per session. Depth over breadth.
Ma — negative space
The value of a room lies in the empty space. The value of work lies in the pause.
Mu — nothingness
Not emptiness, but openness. The beginner's mind finds more than the expert's.
Ji-Riki — self power
No gamification. No points. No rewards. You work because the work matters.
The Garden as Interface
We believe interfaces should fade. The best tool is the one you forget you're using. A hammer that fits your hand perfectly becomes an extension of thought, not an object of attention.
KŌAN is optimised to disappear. In a world of infinite options and infinite notifications, one raked sand garden is a radical act.
Begin where you are.
The garden waits.
No set-up. No account. No sync required.
Just a garden, a stone, and your attention.