Some practices are daily.
Some are whenever.
All of them count.
Each one, its own rhythm. Each one, still a practice.
You meant to take your vitamins.
You wanted to call Mom.
You wanted to be Present.
Then the day was over.
Halos is a habit tracker — and three companions for the practices that don't fit a checklist.
Daily, certain days, a few times a week, whenever. Halos fits the rhythm you actually live — not a rigid daily target you'll resent. Tap to log. The ones you've done tuck out of the way. The ones resting today wait quietly below.
Three quiet prompts. Gratitude. Someone or something you're thankful for. Intention. One word for how you want to move through the day. Connection. Someone you want to reach out to.
A minute or two, when you wake or before you sleep. The day has a shape, before and after.
Seven small tools for when the day gets ahead of you. Tap one. Do it for as long as it takes. No timer running, no log unless you want one.
Use them when you need them. Or — if there's one you want to come back to — set it as a practice with its own rhythm, and it joins your halo like anything else.
When "how are you?" deserves more than "fine." Eight feelings on a quiet emotional map: Calm, Joy, Hopeful, Tender, Sad, Tired, Anxious, Restless. Tap what fits. The calendar fills in over the weeks, and the shape of your moods becomes its own halo.
Not sure what you're feeling? Reflect with the Notice pause.
Most habit apps shout. They guilt you for missing a day, burn down your streak over a single miss, hand you a gold star for taking a vitamin.
Halos doesn't do any of that. It's motivating but kind. Streaks exist, and they reset on a miss — but there are no flames, no notifications about how you've let yourself down, no leaderboards, no badges.
And not every practice is daily. A run you do twice a week isn't a failed daily habit — it's a weekly practice, kept. Halos knows the difference.
Just a halo of your days, and the soft marks of the things you chose to keep returning to.
For people who want to build the life they keep saying they want — quietly, and for themselves.