You only need 10

Liz Breslin
Liz Breslin
At the end of the day, my wise Irish friend used to say, there is always the night, Liz Breslin writes.

He liked to deal in certainties, manageable chunks of time.

He didn't add, but I'd like to, that at the start of the day there is usually hope.

Hope for those few minutes that the worry train, the to-do list or the back twinges haven't set in.

Hope, even as the I-can-actually-ski dream of the night before fades.

Last week I came up with a genius way to make the hopeful mornings stretch out further through the day.

So genius that it is going to become a best-selling diet/fitness/lifestyle phenomenon and I will develop great flicky hair, an all-American set of pearly straight teeth and a shiny bank balance to match.

A bit like the anti-approach to Tyler Durdan's ''This is your life and it's ending one minute at a time''.

I call it the Ten-Minute Temple Theory.

TMTT - not Fight Club, not Flight Club but Life Club!

It will have to be TMTT and not TMT, as TMT is already a blingy lifestyle brand and, separately, shorthand for a component of fox urine that causes fear in rats, but that is by the by.

The Ten-Minute Temple Theory, so my inspirational introductory video will go, was born on a morning when I got out of bed and postponed my morning coffee in favour of blending up a raw fruit and vege juice.

For 10 whole minutes I was on a raw-food kick. For 10 whole minutes my body was a temple.

NB: The video will not show the noise and effort involved in juicing beetroot, apple, carrot and ginger, nor the resulting mess to clean up, nor how hard it is to get beetroot stains off white shirts.

For 10 minutes, the video will say, you, too, can be a raw foodie. Or whatever it is you want to be.

There really is no limit to this 10-minute thing. You could be a bite-sized paleo, a part-hour vegan, a 600-second airtairian.

Oooh, we could have 10-minute recipes, too! A 10-minute spin-off miniseries!

The time slice works for exercise, too.

According to a 2013 Boston University study, ''some exercise is better than nothing'', (brilliant) and lots of little bits of less than 10 minutes can all add up to a healthier you.

Which is just as well, because 10 minutes is about the maximum I can spend on my yoga mat before I am called away to urgent mother/butler duties.

So what if I've only just cranked my lower back into the first (and only) downward dog of the day?

Under the Ten-Minute Temple Theory this still leaves me as yogi as a Berra or a Bear.

Got 10 minutes to spare? How are you going to nurture your being?

One of the most commented-on questions on quora.com is ''What can I learn/know right now in 10 minutes that will be useful for the rest of my life?''

More than 1500 answers have been offered.

The ultimate way to fold a shirt, how to chop an onion, where to locate a Legobuilder on Google, Superior Sexual Skills (capitals not mine).

The Ten-Minute Temple Theory, though, would encourage you not to take up your 10 minutes with business and busyness all the time.

No. Not while you're all yogic and raw.

How about spending a 10-minute chunk meditating in life's great outdoor playground, listening to birdsong.

Yes, you can totally justify the hours of travel and carbon emissions to get you to said nature spot for 10 minutes of zen.

And in all seriousness, taking life in 10-minute increments can be a good way of keeping the Wise Irish perspective on life.

I am not my behaviour for the few minutes that I pack a massive mood at whoever interrupted my caffeine-deprived yoga flow.

I am not my function or my dysfunction, I am only what I 10-minutely choose.

And ... cut.

Cue swelling music, flicky hair and wads and wads and wads of cash.

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