The 20-Minute Mentality
(yes, it will make a difference)
This is very simple. If you really don’t want to do something, and this is one of those general good things that you’re supposed to do, set a 20-minute timer and then do that good thing for 20 minutes.
You don’t have to do it perfectly.
You don’t have to have laser focus.
Just hang on for twenty minutes.
Here’s why I think this works—and this is from someone who consistently feels underwater as far as the “goals” and “chores” go:
Twenty minutes is short enough for someone who is distractable (ahem, we should make a club, but not while we’re doing our thing that we said we’d do for twenty minutes).
That slice of time is also long enough to make some headway on whatever it is that you’re working on. This trick is a bit miraculous with things like housework: the sink is completely full (and so is the counter beside it) but twenty minutes will take an enormous chunk out of it. I promise.
Also, twenty minutes is the right, non-heroic length for all of these small things that I want to do more of like reading to the kids, saying the rosary, in-home exercising, executing the next step in some annoying administrative task that requires a string of phone calls (Lord, preserve us).
I Interrupt this list to clarify what is probably the most important part of the 20-minute mentality: give yourself permission to completely abandon the task once the timer dings. Yes, in the middle of a dish. Seriously. Just put it down, in the sink, you’re done. If you want to keep going, you’re allowed to keep going. But you don’t have to. Do not make yourself give more than you have. Do not stress yourself out with non-existent deadlines. Better to have achieved a small, measurable goal. And don’t hit yourself with that “Every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, for twenty minutes, I will—” No. The Lord only knows what’s going to happen next Wednesday. Also, stop trying to finish the laundry. You’re never going to finish the laundry. The day we finish the laundry is the day that we die. Wrangle it for twenty minutes and let that be enough.
If you have children—or any relationship at all with any other human who might need you for something—you should absolutely expect to be interrupted in the course of twenty minutes, hence the “you do not have to do it perfectly with laser focus” thing. Just stop the timer and then come back to it when you can.
Also, the self-talk will crop up: “you should really have done this already.” This is going to slow you down. Power over it with an: “I AM DOING THIS FOR TWENTY MINUTES, I will self-talk to you later.”
Where was I? The difficulty of doing our daily work—interruptions, negative self talk, and we also don’t give enough credence to how difficult it is to do what you said you’d do when you said you’d do it. For example, the dedication it takes to sit down and pray (again, for a short time—an even shorter time than twenty minutes, prayer can be really hard) is astounding.
We also don’t give ourselves any credit for how much any of these things matter. And breaking the usual tasks into time chunks like this—especially when you’re struggling—can help with perspective. I folded laundry for twenty minutes AND that’s actually a great thing for your family (or for yourself, whichever).
I’ve been using this 20-minute mentality lot lately as I’ve been walking around my house, which is in tatters, from a very good Christmas, and I’ve yet to put everything back together/ back in its place. I’ve also used it for things like our Iliad read-aloud and exercising.
You only have to do twenty minutes.
But, sometimes that isn’t enough to get me to put my phone down, so I add some extra oomph to it with an incentive.
Front end: this will only be twenty minutes. If you’re still able to work on it, and if you want to work on it, you are allowed to keep going.
Back end: you can have a piece of chocolate when the timer goes off.
I’m only writing this in the first place because I told myself it would only be twenty minutes, and I could have a piece of truffle cheese when the timer dinged.
Now to go tackle the upstairs…
On the Calendar: Epiphany
👑👑you are exactly where you’re meant to be, and you’re already doing more than you think 👑
I have forgotten to pick up our new Feasts and Saints calendar in the back of the church for at least four masses in a row. I have even told all six children to remind me, alas, the baby does not speak in a language I fully understand, even though I’m sure what she meant to say on Thursday was, “Mommy, remember to get a calendar!” I am not keeping great track of which day it is, but I know that tomorrow is the mass that celebrates those esteemed “Three Kings” and the gifts they brought to the newborn King. Here’s the Gospel (and the other readings): Matthew 2:1-12 🪽. One thing I’ve been noticing in these Cycle A readings is the number of references to prophecies (7 total in the first four chapters of Matthew).
May we all experience something like “overjoyed” today as we celebrate the fulfillment of God’s promise with Sts. Caspar, Melchior, and Balthazar. Some year I’m going to ask Jonny for a more permanent Epiphany blessing sign like this one. Very cool, Melisa Capistrant (and co).
Found out last week that 36% of readership is “just doing their best” in terms of New Year’s Resolutions and boy do I feel that 😅😅… well, just know that I personally think your best is excellent and I’m glad that you’re doing it.
What if the tree is *about* to be gone because I need to uh, pack up the decorations so we can MOVE HOUSES.
*sets hair on fire and runs out of house, a la Denethor*
Will employ 20 minute timer ad nauseum over next 2 weeks of chaos.
Great advice in here, Meredith. I am one who feels perpetually 'behind' in things, and I have already accepted that piece about the laundry that will never be all done (dirty laundry storage hacks, anyone?!) Much of what you say in here echoes what my therapist often tells me. I tend to look at everything at once, so of course I'm overwhelmed. "One hurdle at a time," she tells me. Just focus on one thing at a time. And then, dealing with the inner critic who just never lets up...
Thanks for sharing about the Epiphany blessing sign my son made. I didn't even know those were a 'thing' until he gave it to me on Christmas day. (We typically just write with chalk above the door.) It was such a surprise blessing! Hope you and your family have a Merry and blessed Christmastide!