The Journal of Alex Rivera · Est. 2020 · Writing about life, craft & curiosity
In an era of relentless notifications and infinite scroll, there is quiet revolution growing — one that values depth over speed, presence over productivity. This is what I discovered when I unplugged for thirty days.
Photography by the author · Tuscany, Italy
Moving to a country where you don't speak the language is the fastest route to humility — and, eventually, to a deeper sense of self. A personal reflection on displacement and home.
When every frame costs money and can't be reviewed instantly, something shifts in how you see.
A meditation on what we lose when we optimise away all friction from our lives.
Motivation is a visitor. Habit is the one who stays. Here's what I've learned from five years of conscious practice-building.
"I write to understand what I think. Every essay is a form of cartography — mapping territory I didn't know existed until I started walking."
— Alex Rivera
I'm a writer, traveller, and chronic over-thinker based in Lisbon, Portugal. After a decade working in tech, I traded the boardroom for a notebook and haven't looked back. This blog is my corner of the internet — a place to think carefully about how we live, work, and find meaning.
My essays explore the intersection of slow living, creative practice, and the examined life. I'm drawn to questions that don't have clean answers: How do we build lives we actually want? What does it mean to pay attention? How do we stay curious in a world designed to distract?
When I'm not writing, you'll find me in a café with a film camera, attempting to grow tomatoes on my balcony, or slowly working through a stack of books I promise I'll finish.
What I gained, what I missed, and why I only came back to one platform.
Against speed-reading, summaries, and the compulsion to consume more than you can digest.
There is no better lesson in patience than attempting to become a child again in a foreign language.
After years of chasing the perfect morning, I finally stopped optimising — and started living.