Kindryd · 10 of 11

Why Kindryd

A note on the name, the spelling, and what we are actually trying to build.

Kindryd4 min read · Issue 1, Gathering

Photograph to come

A kitchen table at night — laptop closed, a notebook, a cold mug, one lamp. Nothing else. No people, no faces.

Alternate: a set of keys and a phone on a worn wooden counter, single overhead light.

We should deal with the spelling first, because everyone asks and the real answer is duller than the guesses.

The word is kindred. Kin. People related to each other, by blood or by something like it. We wanted that word and we could not have it, because the domain was taken, as every good short word on the internet has been taken since roughly 2004. So we changed a letter.

That is the entire story. There is no hidden meaning in the y. We are not going to invent one.

We are telling you this because it is the kind of thing a company usually dresses up, and we would rather you know from the first page what sort of company this is. Now the part that is not dull.

Kindred was the right word because of what it says about the relationship. A practitioner and the person on their table are not exactly professional and client. They are not friends either. There is a third thing that the language does not have a good name for — someone lets you put your hands on them, or sit near them while they cry, and there is a particular obligation that comes with that. Kin is the closest word we found.

It also describes the practitioners to each other. This is lonely work. A massage therapist in Saco, a breath facilitator in Portland, a Reiki practitioner in Brunswick — they are running the same business, hitting the same walls, and most of them have never met. They are kin and they mostly do not know it.

Here is what we noticed, and it is not a grand insight. It is a Tuesday.

Someone who is very good at their work — years of training, a real practice, people who trust her — is sitting at her kitchen table at eleven at night. She is cross-referencing a text thread against a spreadsheet to figure out who is coming Thursday. She is sending a payment link by direct message. She is retyping the same intake questions into an email for the fourth time this week. There are five logins, five bills, and none of the tools talk to each other.

None of that is her work. All of it is her job.

That gap is the whole reason this company exists. The skill and the admin have almost nothing to do with each other, and the admin is the part that ends practices. Not lack of demand. We have yet to meet a good practitioner with a demand problem. We have met a great many with a Tuesday problem.

So Kindryd takes the Tuesday. One page for a practice. Bookings that confirm themselves. Reminders that go out the morning of. Payments that land on a schedule you can predict. Intake forms that arrive attached to the person who filled them out. Classes and events with seats that count themselves down. The next piece in this issue lists exactly what that includes, in plain terms.

A few things we will not do, stated now so you can hold us to them.

We will not tell you or your clients what a practice will do for them. Not in our copy, not in our marketing, not on a practitioner's page. We describe what happens in a session. What it does is the client's to report and nobody's to promise. We wrote the nine articles before this one to that rule. We will hold to it on the software.

We will not sort practitioners by who paid us the most. A directory that sells position is a directory you cannot trust.

We will not stand between a practitioner and their clients. The client list belongs to the practitioner. If you leave, you take it with you, in a file, without asking us.

And we will not pretend the software is the point. The point is the hour in the room. Everything we build is in service of getting a practitioner back to that hour with fewer things in their hands.

Which brings us to why a company that makes scheduling software published a magazine.

Because the rooms in these pages are real and mostly invisible. A sound session in a mill in Biddeford, a breath circle above the Eastern Prom, a crystal session in a sunporch off Route 1 in Kennebunk — these are happening every week within an hour's drive of most people reading this, and almost nobody knows they exist.

We would like more people to know. That seemed like a reasonable place to start.

We have yet to meet a good practitioner with a demand problem. We have met a great many with a Tuesday problem.