Maps of Content
A MOC is a curated index of notes on a topic - not a folder list, a table of contents I write by hand.
- MOC
- Maps of Content
- PKM
- Linking
- Organization
- Second Brain
A MOC is a curated index of notes on a topic - not a folder list, a table of contents I write by hand.
How my linked notes garden works on this site - atomic claims, wikilinks, and a public graph.
Saving links isn't curation. Here's how I try to keep notes useful - revisiting, pruning, and connecting what I actually care about.
A digital garden grows in public - messy, linked, alive. Here's why I prefer that over polishing every thought into a finished essay.
My brain is for having ideas, not storing them. A Second Brain is the system that holds them - starting with capture.
I love my wiki, but sometimes paper wins - meetings, sermons, the pocket notebook that survives a dead phone battery.
Capture is where PKM lives or dies. I save what resonates, not everything I see - and I keep one inbox I actually trust.
Folders sort. Links think. Here's how I use associative linking so notes meet each other without me remembering every filename.
I write evergreen notes to stay useful - timeless phrasing, clear claims, updated when reality changes.
Fragile systems break when an app shuts down. I try to build note workflows that get stronger under stress - plain files, open formats, owned exports.
Brad Frost's atomic design is for UI components. I borrowed the idea for notes - one idea per file, combinable later. Here's how that changed my wiki.
PKM is the boring name for how I save, organize, and use what I learn. Here's my unspectacular definition.
Notes are inventory. Output is the point - blog posts, sermons, code, dinner experiments. Here's how I push from archive to shipped.
Zettelkasten is one idea per note, dense links, writing from the network.
I have thousands of notes and still stare at a blank page sometimes. Creative blocks aren't solved by more capture - here's what actually unsticks me.
One idea per note, written to stand alone and link freely - not mini blog posts.
I publish rough ideas before they're finished. Drafting in public keeps me honest and makes the garden grow.
Notes rot without review. I calendar weekly and quarterly passes - inbox, projects, evergreens.
I don't bullet journal for pretty spreads. I use rapid logging when digital capture feels slow - tasks, events, notes on paper, migrated weekly.
A link without context is a mystery six weeks later. I try to capture why I saved something - project, mood, question - while it's still obvious.
My digital garden is a personal site where notes grow in public - linked, imperfect, alive.
Organization in PKM isn't a perfect tree - it's enough structure to find things when life gets loud.
PARA is how I sort notes by life responsibility - not by topic alphabet soup. Four buckets, clear questions.
A Second Brain isn't only notes for me - it's how I move through the day: middle-click tabs, curated feeds, and faster learning loops.
Archive isn't delete. It's moving finished work out of active PARA so today's projects breathe.
Fullscreen, plain text, notifications off. I don't need a special app - I need fewer excuses to leave the sentence.
Fleeting notes catch sparks. Evergreen notes hold truth. I need both lanes and a clear promotion path.
Most sparks die on mobile because capture takes twelve taps. I reduced mine to share sheet → inbox.
RSS is how I research without Twitter. Subscribe to blogs, clip to notes, ignore the rest.
Serendipity isn't random luck for me - it's building a system where old notes surprise me at the right time.
Books aren't written; they're compiled. My path from atomic notes to long-form is outline, link, expand.
Future-proofing isn't predicting tech for me. It's plain text, open tools, and exports I test before I need them.
Local-first means my device holds the truth; sync is optional icing. That's how I want my brain's backup to behave.
Mental models are shortcuts for thinking. I keep a short list of ones that survived contact with real decisions - not every model on Wikipedia.
Collecting quotes isn't PKM for me. Synthesis is merging sources into what I believe and can defend.
Daily notes are my scratch pad for the day - tasks, fragments, links. Not a diary. Not permanent by default.
Fewer apps, fewer sync layers, fewer notifications. My PKM got better when I stopped collecting tools.
GTD runs my tasks. PARA runs my notes. They're cousins, not competitors - here's how I use both without doubling admin.
Between meetings and deep work, I jot what just happened and what's next. Interstitial journaling clears the buffer.
Researchers drown in PDF highlights. I borrow lit-review habits: source notes, synthesis notes, never merge the two.
My personal API isn't OAuth and microservices. It's structured context for future me and my tools without re-explaining everything.
Selecting, ordering, and framing notes is creative work. I stopped treating curation as housekeeping.
End-to-end encryption matters when my notes are actually private. I balance convenience with what I'm willing to store in plain text.
I cite sources in notes not for academia - so I can trust my own synthesis and find the original six months later.
Mind maps are for the messy first pass - branches, bubbles, relationships. I export to atomic notes after, not instead.
I want to control where my notes live, who can read them, and how they leave my machine.
I design for resurfacing - old notes beat systems that only search what I remember to search for.
Most content is noise. PKM fails if capture doesn't filter. I save signal - stuff that changes action or belief.
The slip-box (Zettelkasten) wasn't magic software - Luhmann's physical note cards and links. History helps separate myth from method.
Slow productivity pushes back on busy-as-virtue. I run fewer active projects so notes become output, not backlog.
The garage holds tools, scraps, experiments. The showroom is the blog. I don't confuse the two.
A note's value for me lives in what it connects to. Interconnectivity turns files into a network I think inside.
CODE and PARA in one loop: capture to inbox, organize by project, distill on use, express weekly.
My weekly review is a checklist - inbox, calendar, projects, one express action. Boring on purpose.
When a note is just a quote from someone smarter, I add a section: what do I actually believe from scratch?
Dense walls of text don't get reread. I format notes like I'd format a post - headings, bullets, bold for the point.
Graph view looks sci-fi. Mostly I use it to find orphans, hubs, and notes I forgot to link.
Tags, categories, dates, aliases - metadata should help me find notes, not become a second job.
Newsletters are RSS with delivery guilt. I filter them to a label, batch read weekly, clip what resonates.
Collecting articles feels like progress. It isn't. The collector's fallacy bit me until I tied saves to express deadlines.
If I don't trust my inbox, I capture in my head instead. One pipe, weekly empty, no exceptions.
Luhmann's output wasn't copy-paste from buying the right notebook. The Zettelkasten myth oversells tools and undersells writing.
Some thoughts need boxes and arrows before words. Visual thinking in PKM means diagrams beside Markdown.
Most of my notes are solo. But teams need shared context too - here's what I look for when knowledge has more than one author.
I don't rewrite whole notes when I distill - bold, then highlight, then summarize when I reuse.
Spaced repetition schedules reviews before I forget. I use it for facts I need cold, not for whole wiki pages.
SRS apps implement the algorithm; I supply the discipline. Here's how I fit Anki beside my wiki without merging them.
Twelve-week years compress annual goals into quarters I actually feel. I map wiki projects to 12-week arcs.
AI, agents, new apps - PKM hype cycles spin. The future still looks like capture, connect, create, with better search.
Ideas have lifecycles: capture, active use, evergreen, decay, archive. PKM should match the stage.
Waiting for the perfect tool, plan, or answer feels responsible. It's often the nirvana fallacy. Here's why I choose good-enough tradeoffs on purpose.
Results matter - but optimizing only for outcomes wins once. Optimizing for a repeatable process wins again and again.
I explain notes like I'm teaching someone - gaps in my explanation show gaps in understanding.