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01Field guide

What Is Obsidian?

A plain guide to the note-taking app that is just a folder, and why a folder of plain text outlasts every cloud-based note app.

Steve SharpMay 202612 min read

Why a folder of plain text files outlasts every cloud-based note app, and why it matters more now that AI is in the picture.


TL;DR

Obsidian is a free note-taking app that stores your notes as plain text files in a folder on your computer. There's no cloud account required, no subscription to maintain, and no company holding your data hostage. You can connect notes to each other with simple links, and over time those connections become a map of how you think. Because the files are plain text, anything else on your computer can read them, including AI tools like Claude or ChatGPT. The setup that matters fits on one screen, and the rest is optional for years. Download is free at obsidian.md.


What Obsidian Actually Is

If you've heard the word "Obsidian" used to describe a note-taking app and assumed it was complicated, here is the simple version. Obsidian is a folder of text files on your computer, plus an app that helps you read, write, and connect them.

That's the whole thing. There's no central server and no required login. The folder lives on your hard drive, exactly where you put it. Inside the folder, every note is a separate file in a format called Markdown, which is just text with a few tiny formatting cues like # for headings and ** for bold. You can open these files in Obsidian, in any other text editor, or in your email if you really want to. The notes will still be readable in twenty years on any computer that exists.

Obsidian is what you see when you point it at that folder. The app gives you a sidebar of your notes, a search bar, a graph of how your notes connect, and a place to type, which covers most of what you'll use day to day. The deeper features are real, but they don't matter on day one and arguably don't matter for the first year, so we'll come back to them later.

One piece of background before we keep going. Obsidian was made by a small team of fewer than ten people, led by a designer named Steph Ango, who you'll also see referenced online as Kepano. The company estimates that several million people use the app, but they genuinely don't know the exact number, because the app doesn't phone home.


Why It Matters: The File-Over-App Principle

Most note-taking apps work like this. You sign up, you write notes inside their app, and your notes live on their servers in their proprietary format. When you stop paying, they keep your notes. If the company gets acquired or shuts down, they still keep your notes. Evernote, Roam, Notion, and Bear all run on this same shape regardless of how their prices and feature lists differ.

Obsidian works the opposite way. Steph Ango calls this principle "file over app," and the idea is short enough to memorize. Your files should outlive the software you use to view them. Plain text has been readable on every computer for forty years and will be readable on every computer for the next forty. A folder of Markdown files runs on every operating system, syncs with any cloud service, and opens in any text editor that has ever existed.

This sounds like a technical detail until you've lost notes to a defunct app, at which point it sounds like the whole point.

The AI dimension follows from this naturally. Because your notes are plain text in a folder, any tool that can read a folder can read your notes, whether that's Claude, ChatGPT, a local model running on your laptop, or whatever LLM you find yourself using in 2030. None of these require an export step, a proprietary format migration, or any API to negotiate. The folder is the interface, and the interface doesn't change. The full version of this argument comes later in the piece.

For now, the takeaway is simple. Your work belongs to you, and most of Obsidian's design decisions follow from that one principle.


How Obsidian Works in Practice

The entire core practice fits in three actions. You make a note, you link it to another note, and you can tag it if you want to find it again later, though tagging is optional from day one.

When you create your first note in Obsidian, you give it a title and you type. That note becomes a file in your folder. If you want to connect it to another note, you type two square brackets ([[) and start typing the name of the other note. Obsidian shows you a dropdown of matching notes. You pick one, and you've made a link.

Here's the genuinely interesting part. The note you linked to may not exist yet. You can write [[ideas that woke me up at 3am]] right now, and Obsidian creates a placeholder for it. When you click that placeholder, the note is born. You can write the way you actually think, referencing ideas you haven't written yet and building forward and backward at the same time.

Tags work more loosely. Type a hashtag (#writing, #side-project, #books-to-read) and the note picks up that label. Click any tag and you see every note that carries it. Tags are useful for cross-cutting categories that don't deserve their own note.

That covers the entire core practice. Everything else is optional for now, including properties, templates, plugins, the graph view, themes, the Web Clipper, AI integration, and a hundred other things you'll be tempted to explore. The first month is just those three moves repeated until the shape of your own thinking starts to show up in the sidebar.


Why Linking Notes Changes How You Think

The reason linked notes matter goes back to a German sociologist named Niklas Luhmann, who died in 1998 and produced an unreasonable amount of work in his lifetime. He wrote more than 70 books and around 400 scholarly papers, across fields as varied as law, economy, politics, religion, mass media, and love. He attributed all of it to a system of paper notes he called his Zettelkasten, or slip-box. Roughly 90,000 of them, each one written on a card, each one linked by index number to other related cards.

When Luhmann wanted to write a book, he'd start by pulling cards. One card would suggest another, and the suggestions would surface connections he hadn't consciously remembered making. He described the slip-box as a thinking partner. Some of his best ideas, he said, only happened inside it.

Obsidian is the digital version of this. Every linked note functions as a card, and every link is a thread between cards. Over months and years, the threads build into something that doesn't exist in your head alone: a small private map of your own thinking that you can walk through sideways and backward, finding ideas you forgot you had.

This sounds abstract until you've used it for a while. The first time you're writing something new and a six-month-old note surfaces because you wrote one link in passing, you understand the appeal.


Who Obsidian Is For (And Who It Isn't)

Obsidian is a good fit for writers, researchers, designers, students, founders, and anyone whose work involves accumulating ideas over months and years. The signs you're the target reader are clear enough. You keep notebooks. The screenshots folder on your phone is full of things you wanted to remember later but never went back to. You've tried more than once to find "that thing I read about X" and given up. Obsidian gives that loose pile a structure that grows with you.

It's also a fit for journaling, reading notes, project planning that doesn't require collaboration, and keeping a personal reference library you actually return to.

Obsidian is not a fit for everything. Heavy real-time collaboration is not its purpose, and there's no shared cursor, no comment threads, and no version history out of the box (you have to pay for the optional Sync service if you want that). Teams that need a wiki with permissions are better served by Notion or Confluence. Project management with assignees and due dates is better handled by Linear, Asana, Things, or Todoist. If your notes are mostly transactional and you don't go back to them, any free app will do.

There's also a learning curve, though not the kind most people assume. Obsidian isn't technically hard, and the core practice is genuinely just three moves. The difficulty is that Obsidian doesn't tell you what to do with it. There's no onboarding flow that builds a system for you, and day one starts with the same empty vault for everyone. What you build into it over the following months is what makes Obsidian useful or useless for your work.


The Trap Most New Users Fall Into

The most common way to fail at Obsidian is to spend the first month researching how to use Obsidian.

This sounds like a joke, but it's the dominant failure mode. There are thousands of YouTube videos teaching Obsidian workflows, hundreds of community-made templates, and more than a thousand community plugins. People download many of them, configure none of them properly, get overwhelmed, and quit before they've written ten real notes. The system they built was someone else's system, and it didn't fit the work they were actually trying to do.

The rule that comes up again and again from people who've used Obsidian for years is short. Write first, organize later. Make the notes, make the links, and let structure emerge from the shape of what you actually write rather than from a system you copied from a YouTuber whose work has nothing to do with yours.

Here's the practical translation. For the first month, ignore plugins, ignore templates, and ignore the graph view (it looks impressive in screenshots but does very little when you have eight notes). Spend that month writing instead. The system you actually need will reveal itself by what you keep wanting to do and can't.

This is also the answer to anyone worried Obsidian is too complicated. The app itself is simple. The community around it can get noisy, and the practical solution to that is to ignore the community for a while.


How to Start Using Obsidian

Here is the entire first-day setup.

Go to obsidian.md and download the app. It's free for personal use, no account required. The download is around 100MB. Install it like any other app on Mac, Windows, or Linux. Mobile versions exist for iOS and Android, but the desktop app is where the practice starts.

When you open Obsidian for the first time, it asks you to create a vault. The word "vault" is just Obsidian's name for the folder where your notes will live. Pick a location on your computer (Documents works fine) and give the folder a name. Something boring like "Notes" or your first name is best. The folder will follow you for years, and names that try too hard age badly.

Create your first note by pressing Ctrl+N (Cmd+N on Mac). Give it a title at the top, type something underneath, and save happens automatically.

Three things to do when you install Obsidian

These three adjustments belong on day one. Each one solves a problem you'll otherwise discover at the worst possible moment.

1. Stop your links from breaking. Open Settings → Files & Links and turn on "Automatically update internal links." Without this setting on, renaming a note will silently break every link pointing to it, and you'll find yourself two months in with a vault full of dead connections you didn't know existed. Turn it on first.

2. Keep your sidebar clean. On the same Files & Links page, change the default folder for new attachments to a dedicated "attachments" folder. Every image you paste and every PDF you save would otherwise clutter the root of your vault, and your sidebar will fill with files that aren't really notes. The attachments folder gives those files a home that stays out of the way.

3. Change your theme. While you're inside settings, switch your theme so you know how. Go to Settings → Appearance → Themes → Manage. The community gallery has hundreds of options, but the one worth installing is Soft Paper, made by Nick Milo. Soft Paper is built on a popular base theme called AnuPpuccin (which uses the Catppuccin color palette beloved by developers), but Milo forked it specifically so it could keep being updated without depending on AnuPpuccin's release schedule. The result is a calm, paper-textured reading surface that softens Obsidian's default austerity without making the app loud. Milo himself has been honest that Soft Paper's light mode is the focus and its dark mode is functional but not optimized. If you live in dark mode, try it anyway and see if you can live with it. Most people who switch don't switch back.

That's the required setup. For the first few weeks, ignore plugins, hold off on syncing across devices, and skip the "best plugins" articles. Use Obsidian like that for two weeks before adding anything else.

If you eventually want your notes to follow you to your phone or another laptop, the official Obsidian Sync service costs $4 per month if you pay annually ($5 monthly). The free workaround is to put your vault folder inside iCloud Drive, Dropbox, Google Drive, or OneDrive, and your existing cloud storage will sync the folder like any other folder. The free option is good enough for most people for years.


Obsidian and AI: Why a Folder Beats an API

Here is the part the rest of the piece has been pointing at.

Because your notes are plain text in a folder on your computer, any AI tool that can read a folder can read your notes. There's no integration to configure, no API to call, and the folder itself is the interface.

In practice this means you can point Claude or ChatGPT at your Obsidian vault and ask it to do things your own filing memory can't. You can ask it to find every note where you've written about a particular thinker, to pull out the three claims you keep coming back to without quite realizing it, or to draft a summary of the positions you've taken on a subject over three years of notes. The answers come back in your own words because the source material is your own words. None of this requires special integration, because the notes are text and the tools are text-readers.

Here's a concrete picture. Your Obsidian vault has three years of writing notes, reading marginalia, and half-finished essays. You open Claude with permission to read your vault folder, and ask it to surface every note where you've discussed a particular thinker, then to draft a short summary of the positions you've taken on him over time. Claude reads the files directly. The summary comes back grounded in your own words, sourced from your own work, with no new account to create, no migration to do, and no copy-paste anywhere.

The contrast with cloud-locked note apps is worth sitting with. If your notes are inside Notion or Evernote, AI tools have to go through those companies' APIs, with whatever limits and permissions those companies set. The AI tool is a guest in someone else's house. With Obsidian, the AI tool reads the same files you read in the same folder you put them in, with no middleman granting or revoking permission.

There's a companion tool worth knowing about. The Obsidian Web Clipper is a free browser extension, also made by the Obsidian team, that saves any web page or article to your vault as a clean Markdown file. The clipper includes a built-in Reader mode that strips a page down to its readable text for distraction-free reading before you decide whether to clip it, with customizable typography, light and dark themes, and persistent navigation that keeps subsequent link clicks inside Reader mode. Both the clipping function and Reader mode run on an open-source library called Defuddle, Steph Ango's modern replacement for Mozilla's Readability, which extracts clean readable content from any web page and standardizes the messy HTML around it. The clipper also has an optional AI feature that uses whatever model you point it at, whether Claude, ChatGPT, Gemini, or a local model running on your own machine, to summarize pages, extract structured information, or apply templates automatically. Everything still lands as plain text in your folder.

The whole stack, end to end, is text in a folder that AI can read. That's the entire architecture, and it means that as LLMs get better, your notes get more useful without you doing anything to migrate them.


Where to Go From Here

Obsidian is a quiet tool that doesn't ask much and doesn't promise transformation. You download the app, point it at a folder, and start writing notes that link to other notes. Six months later you have a small private library that knows things you don't quite remember writing, and the connections start surprising you.

The reason to commit to a tool like this in 2026 has less to do with the feature list than with the principle underneath. Your files outlive the software you use to view them. The folder is yours, the notes inside it are yours, and the tools that read them are interchangeable, including the AI tools you use today and whatever comes after them.

The next two guides in this series cover Are.na, which solves a related but different problem (collecting visual references and building public connections), and Cosmos, which sits somewhere between the two. Both are worth knowing about if you're building a thinking practice that has to last longer than any single piece of software.

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