Sometimes the soul needs a sandwich

Not every heavy day is a crisis of meaning. Sometimes the truth is embarrassingly physical: you slept badly, you barely ate, you haven't seen daylight, and you've been indoors with your thoughts for nine hours. The soul and the body are roommates — when one skips meals, both feel it.

There's an old piece of wisdom that before examining your spiritual state, you should check whether you've eaten and slept. It's not cynical — it's mercy. God built you as a body, on purpose. Honoring its basics isn't lesser work than the deep stuff; often it is the deep stuff.

So run the humble checklist before believing today's darkness: real food, a glass of water, ten minutes of actual sky, and the earliest night you can manage. Movement if you have it in you — a walk counts fully. No insight required. You're doing maintenance, not therapy.

You quit cigarettes; you didn't quit being human. Tend the body like something entrusted to you — it was — and give the fog 24 well-fed, well-slept hours to lift. It usually does. And you'll still be free when it clears.