twenty minutes

Sometimes, that’s all it takes. Twenty minutes to get from Echo Park to East LA. Twenty minutes to get from Irvine to Santa Ana (without traffic). Twenty minutes to make a lovely cup of coffee in a French press (if you believe in steeping your coffee for 11-17 minutes, like I do). Twenty minutes to take a shower and get an idea for the next piece of writing. Twenty to minutes to sit and read a chapter of a novel or an essay in a magazine. Twenty minutes to take a walk down the block and see what the world looks like that day.

Twenty minutes can make a difference. We each have about forty-eight waking twenty-minutes per day. Twenty-four of those might be spent at a full-time job. Hopefully, at least six of the forty-eight are spent with meals. Maybe another three or six might be spent traveling between a here and a there.

And then there are those things which mystically eat up the rest of those twenty-minute increments: paying attention to bills, talking to friends, responding to email, meandering around social networks online, watching a television show, cooking dinner, grocery shopping, the list is endless.

But there must be one twenty-minutes that can be taken for something that just feels good. That’s not so greedy, is it? A poem can be written in twenty minutes, from first thought to last word.

It feels good to take even one twenty-minutes. It’s worth it. It doesn’t need to be written down. It doesn’t need to be scheduled. It can just happen. And then it’s done. And we move on.

It’s nice.

2 thoughts on “twenty minutes

  1. Liked this very much, but honestly the first thing that popped into my head was this from Clueless:

    Mel: I expect you to walk through this door in twenty minutes.
    Cher: It might take longer than that Dad.
    Mel: Everywhere in L.A takes twenty minutes.

    What a great movie. Really.

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