The Dead Ends That Shaped My Obsidian System

Before arriving at a clean, stable setup in Obsidian, I went through a long phase of experimentation. I tried to make it everything at once — a note-taking tool, an archive library, a task tracker, a project manager, even a reading queue.

Most of those ideas didn’t last. Some sounded clever but created friction in the wrong places. Others blurred the purpose of the tool entirely. Over time, I abandoned what didn’t align with how I think and create.

This post documents those abandoned ideas — the design dead ends that taught me what my Obsidian system shouldn’t be.

Separating the Archive Vault

At first, I kept everything in a single vault with an inbox/ directory for saved articles, videos, and tweets. It seemed efficient, but I quickly noticed I was mixing consumption with creation. My vault bloated with unread material, and it became unclear whether the inbox was a reading queue or an archive.

The easier it was to save things, the less I thought about them — violating my guiding principle that friction is good.

Now I maintain two vaults:

• Main vault for thinking and note-making
• ONote-Archive for processed reference materials

Only notes that have passed through active thinking make it to the archive. The main vault stays lightweight and focused, while the archive can grow endlessly without guilt. Two vaults, two purposes.

Quick Capture: Apple Notes Over Obsidian

In the beginning, I captured every fleeting thought directly in Obsidian. It filled quickly with incomplete fragments that blurred the line between brainstorming and structured writing. There was no natural filtering step.

Switching to Apple Notes for quick capture introduced just enough friction to make me pause. I can jot thoughts instantly, review them weekly, and only promote the valuable ones to Obsidian.

This keeps Obsidian intentional — a space for developed ideas, not raw fragments. Apple Notes is my fast capture buffer; Obsidian is where thinking happens.

Projects: Tags Instead of Folders

My first project structure had a projects/ folder with a subdirectory for each project. It looked organized but violated my preference for tags over subfolders.

The result was artificial separation — projects felt isolated from related notes, and my graph view lost context. I was constantly wondering, “Is this in main/ or projects/?”

Now, everything lives in main/, and I tag projects with #project/<name>. This makes projects appear naturally in the graph view and allows a project note to evolve into a general reference by simply removing a tag. It’s flexible, consistent, and matches how I think.

Short-Term Tasks Don’t Belong in Obsidian

For a while, I logged daily tasks in Obsidian using a day/ folder. It didn’t take long before my notes became cluttered with low-value content — grocery lists and quick reminders mixed with long-term ideas.

That’s when I realized: Obsidian is for thinking, not executing.

Now, short-term tasks live in dedicated apps (Apple Reminders, Things, Todoist), while long-term goals and context stay in Obsidian. This separation keeps my knowledge space focused and prevents mental overload.

No Reading Queue in Obsidian

I briefly considered managing a reading queue in Obsidian using Bases, complete with metadata and progress tracking. But it quickly became clear: that approach encouraged hoarding.

It made capturing effortless — and processing rare. Smooth workflows aren’t always better ones. I reminded myself: Obsidian isn’t a task manager or read-it-later app.

Now I rely on external tools or Apple Notes for temporary saves. The archive only grows after I’ve thought about something, not before.

The Core Principle: Friction Is Good

Every decision here reflects one underlying idea:

Friction is a good thing.

Friction between capture and archive prevents hoarding.

Friction between fleeting and permanent prevents clutter.

Friction between reading and saving forces evaluation.

Friction between thinking and executing preserves purpose.

My system evolved by removing convenience where it hurt and adding structure where it helped. Each abandoned idea taught me something about balance — how to build a system that supports deliberate thinking, not just organized information.