My sister recently bought Lou and me new toothbrushes.
They are those fancy sonic brushes called Quips. I’d been hearing about these revolutionary dental tools advertised on [NERD ALERT] several of my favorite podcasts, and they sounded pretty cool. And now that I have one of my own, I can personally endorse them and give them my very own “cleaning seal of approval.” (And if you know me at all, you understand that’s actually a pretty big deal!!)
Anyway. The thing I learned right away after I got my Quip was that I haven’t been brushing my teeth long enough each time. The “proper amount of time,” it turns out, is two minutes.
Hmm. Who knew?
The first few times I used my new toothbrush, and I pushed the button to start the countdown, I was so focused on the newness of the experience that two minutes felt longer than usual, but it didn’t seem unreasonable to me. And then later in the week, I kind of fell into the rhythm of the situation, and I guess I started to slide into this two-minute habit, I suppose.
But then… I brushed my teeth the other morning when I was running late — and, doing my best to operate on four restless hours of sleep — and that’s when two minutes seemed like a frickin’ eternity! I kept moving the brush around in my mouth waiting for the fourth of four beeps to go off, and I just couldn’t take it! So I rinsed the vibrating brush and shoved it in the stand. It sort of hummed on the counter as I washed my hands and then applied some mascara to help beautify my bloodshot eyes a bit.
I felt my body relax once the vibration finally stopped.
But soon after I left the house, I noticed my teeth didn’t feel quite as clean, and I sort of regretted my decision to cut the brushing session short. However, I also kept thinking about how long those two minutes felt, which led me to wonder how many other things in my life are not getting enough of my time and attention. How many other things need two focused minutes from me, but I’m simply too rushed or tired to devote such a small amount of my time to do them well?
When I think about it, two minutes isn’t a lot of time — especially when I’m getting a foot massage, or trying to catch a power nap in the middle of an exhausting day. Two minutes literally evaporate when I’m indulging in something!
But two minutes can feel brutal when I’m doing my neck and back exercises every morning — which require me to hold my arms up at an angle for a full two minutes so my body can realign itself. The part that makes that exercise so brutal is the fact that I can’t do anything but hold my arms up for the entire two minutes! So it seems like when I’m doing something small yet important, like brushing my teeth (and my ability to at least multi-task while doing it isn’t an option) two minutes just seems a bit too long.
Just before I started writing this entry, I got a text message from my very best friend, Vanessa, and she asked me to pray about something incredibly heavy and important. So I stopped what I was doing, and I closed my eyes and dropped into her worries and lifted them to God. There was a lot on my heart to surrender and release, and when I opened my eyes after I said, “Amen,” I realized how easy it is for me to pray for two minutes or more.
In fact, I could’ve gone on much longer, and I wasn’t interested in timing the experience at all.
Of all the things I’ve learned in my life during the past ten years, it’s how much time influences my emotions. Sometimes time moves too slowly for me — like when I’m waiting for an answer to appear, or for some event to take shape that’s way beyond my control. But sometimes, time moves too quickly — like when I’m spending time with a good friend, or enjoying a moment alone with God on one of my hikes. I think I’m constantly judging time because I notice the extremes of it so much more these days. But the really interesting thing I’ve concluded is this:
One minute always has 60 seconds, and two minutes is always equal to 120. Nothing changes about the measure of time…
