Every Day Needs to Mean Something

I’m writing this at 9pm on Saturday 4th May 2024, right after writing in my physical journal. I’m sitting in the living room listening to Prowler by Bohren & Der Club of Gore on Spotify. And I’m feeling a little bit reflective.

The subject of the journal I just wrote was my general habits (they’re bad), but I didn’t write about what I got up to. The point, I suppose, is that I realised that this day would have passed without me leaving a record of what I did.

That’s fine, I suppose. But then I got to thinking that we should do something each day, even if it’s something small, that means something, which by extension would make the day mean something too.

We have such finite time on this earth that even the thought of wasting a single one makes me feel unbelievably anxious. The ultimate irony, I suppose, is that I do so often waste the limited days I’ve been given.

So I’m starting something a little new. I want to make a point of doing something each day that means something.

Whether that’s contributing to a project, speaking to a friend, going for a walk, writing something like this, or anything else.

I need to start making use of each day with the full understanding that right now, this every moment, is the youngest I’ll ever be, and that with every passing minute, I’m losing time to make the most of.

I (we) need to understand that every day wasted is another day that I’ll never get back.