I just reached over to my calendar and slashed off another day. It’s something I do every day so I remember what day it is, because I never do, but this time was different. Usually, it’s just a ritual I go through. Mark off the day. Woohoo! Another day done, bring on the next! No big deal. Today, it felt like I killed a part of myself when slashing that box. That little box that I so often half-mindedly mark off showed its true colors to me. It screamed at me. Usually it stays quiet as I slash, and the next box presents itself to me in all of its blank glory waiting to be slashed tomorrow. Today, though. Today I realized, at my core, that the blank box I just slashed signifies a day of my life I’ll never get back. That box is dead now, never to return. How many moments did I waste in that day which I seemingly marked off in a fraction of a second, and thinking back, seemed to fly by in reality even faster than that? Waste on indecision, on repetition, on sacrificing myself for others’ opinions, on monotony, on negativity, on anger, on emptiness, on passiveness, on fear? I must be getting older or something, I dunno. Not sure how this relates to Aiki, but I know it does. This story’s been told a million times. Time flies. How we spend it matters. Spend it well.