Is this yet another “improve my life in 10-minutes” BS pitch?
No. We don’t play with your minutes here. But we want you to get the most out of your time.
So– do you have 10 minutes to spare?
(If you’re reading this, you probably have 10 minutes. Admit it. Stop checking your Facebook Feed.)
(Everyone has 10 minutes.)
But the problem is: what’s the most important thing to do– right now?
How should you spend those precious minutes?
Here’s our recommendations.
Determine what you need, first.
Need to open up and calm down?
Check out this guided meditation from Tara Brach.
(It’s 10 minutes-ish. Thanks for your generous meditations, Tara Brach!)
Need to work out on the sly?
Check out this “Quiet Workout.”
(It’s 10 minutes-ish. Modify as needed. Thanks for these original quickies, pop sugar!)
Need to say something about something?
We recommend– assess your energy level, consider options 1 and 2 above, hydrate, and then…
Freewrite
Get your writing instrument/implement of choice:
Sit your butt down or stand your butt up.
(Don’t have a standing desk? DIY with a crate placed on top of a table, or by working on a kitchen counter).
Set a timer for 10 minutes. (See? We’re precise!)
And write about what makes you mad. Without stopping.
(Thank you, writing guru Don Murray).
Or try this writing prompt, from Ted Ed:
A genie grants you three tiny wishes. What are they?
(Thank you, TED. You are so full of useful randomness. Want more prompts?)
Help, I really don’t have 10-minutes! The multi-taskers version.
Even though multi-tasking has been proven as neurological BS (You’re uni-tasking, in quick succession, and with crappy outcomes), sometimes we need to layer up. Especially if we really only have 10 minutes.
In that case we suggest:
- Do the Tara Brach meditation while you are on the toilet or taking a shower.
- Do the workout while returning a phone call to someone who will understand if you are out of breath.
- Do the writing prompts on your commute, or while waiting in line. If you want to up the ante, stand on one leg while writing. No, really. And act like a horse– kick the free leg back behind you as if bucking off negative influence and those nagging voices that tell you you don’t even have 10 minutes. You have 10 minutes. You are a living embodiment of 10 minutes.
- Reread your writing aloud as if you are a BBC announcer. Notice if anything would beg more questions from a slick journalist. Respond.
Let’s review the beneficial, concrete outcomes:
Your mind is quieter, your stance more open.
Your body feels better, your heart is beating, it’s obvious you are alive.
You have something on the page, not nothing.
You have something on the page, not nothing.
You have the beginning– maybe– of your college essay (or another important piece of personal writing).
You cut into the heart of emotion and desire, and now you get to explore that further.
That is–the next time you have– or decide to have– 10 minutes.
