Minutes are critical, capricious creatures.
"This will just take you a minute," people say, after asking
you for a favor. You don't want to look stingy. You think:
What's a minute? I have plenty more!
But do we?
For example, this afternoon, a whole fifty minutes ago, I
looked at my watch and thought:
"Ten to five. Good. I have lots of time. I can take a five-
minute break."
Have you ever noticed that minutes go by faster when you are
sitting down? And even faster when you are lying down?
If I had spent these ten minutes standing in line, they would
have been so slow that I would have had time to examine and
classify everything around me and review a fair part of my
life's discontents, as well.
But no. I was sitting down, doing what? My thoughts were
nowhere special when I suddenly awoke from my stolen
daydream. It was five past five. A whole fifteen minutes had
flown by.
I thought that if I got up, that would slow the minutes back
down, but rushing is contagious. It makes the minutes rush,
too. Rushing makes a lot of waves. That's when I drop things,
lose things, throw my keys into the garbage and try to open
the door with a dirty tissue . . .
Minutes determine your life.
Who created Time, anyway?
Hashem created Time, but did He create minutes?
Of course, not.
Hashem create Time, but it is we who foolishly sliced it into
minutes.
