Sometimes the soul needs a sandwich

When a toddler melts down at five o'clock, nobody calls a philosopher. Somebody asks when he last ate and whether he napped. Give yourself the same courtesy today. Before you decide your life is falling apart, check when you last ate a real meal.

There's a story about the prophet Elijah on his worst day. He sat under a tree and told God he'd had enough. God didn't lecture him. He let him sleep, then sent food. Then more sleep, and more food. Only after that did they talk.

Mood rides on the body more than anyone likes to admit. The cigarette answered every signal your body sent with the same reply. Tired, hungry, lonely, it didn't matter. Now you're learning to read the signals for what they are. Sometimes low just means lunch.

Start with the plate. Make something real, with some protein in it, and sit down to eat it. Hold every big verdict about your life until the plate is empty. Then look at the day again. You quit cigarettes. You didn't quit being a body God made on purpose.