Around 10:30 or 11, I'll make poached eggs and maybe some

In the words of Jamie Anderson, “Around 10:30 or 11, I’ll make poached eggs and maybe some Brussels sprouts — kind of random, but delicious. Sometimes I’ll do bacon. I’ve been on a more fat/protein diet with fewer carbs and less saturated stuff, which has actually been feeling really good.” To the casual ear, these words might sound like a simple reflection on diet and taste. Yet to those who listen with the heart, they are the echo of something greater — a hymn to balance, self-awareness, and the quiet mastery of discipline. Within this modest confession lies the timeless pursuit of harmony between body and spirit, between nourishment and joy, between the wisdom of restraint and the celebration of living.

From the earliest ages, humankind has understood that food is more than sustenance. It is ritual, it is energy, it is the daily communion between the earth and our mortal selves. The ancients taught that how one eats reflects how one lives. To eat with care is to live with intention. When Jamie Anderson speaks of choosing a fat/protein diet and finding joy in its simplicity, she is doing more than describing a meal — she is practicing mindfulness in motion. She listens not to the noise of fashion or indulgence but to the whisper of her own body, learning from it, honoring it. Such is the path of the wise: to understand one’s nature and live in accordance with it.

In every generation, there are those who seek strength not in excess, but in balance. Consider the example of Hippocrates, the father of medicine, who said, “Let food be thy medicine and medicine be thy food.” He knew that what we place upon our plates shapes the vigor of our days and the clarity of our thoughts. He observed that when one eats too richly, the body grows sluggish, and the mind follows; but when one eats with awareness, both remain sharp and bright. Jamie Anderson’s words, though spoken in a modern tongue, echo this same wisdom — that moderation is not denial, but freedom.

Even the mention of the hour — 10:30 or 11 — is meaningful. It reminds us that discipline need not be rigid, that the rhythm of life can flow naturally when guided by intuition rather than clockwork. There is poetry in her routine: a meal not bound by rule but by harmony with the self. The poached eggs, pure and simple, symbolize nourishment; the Brussels sprouts, earthy and humble, represent vitality; and the occasional bacon — the indulgence — is the acceptance of joy. She teaches us that true wellness is not a rejection of pleasure but an understanding of proportion.

Her reflection on how this diet “feels really good” reveals another truth known since ancient times — that wisdom begins in the body. Too often, people seek enlightenment through lofty thoughts while ignoring the temple that carries their spirit. But the great teachers — from the yogis of the East to the Stoics of the West — all declared that balance begins in the flesh. A body in harmony becomes a vessel for calmness, clarity, and creation. When one feels well, one thinks well; when one thinks well, one lives well. Thus, to care for the body is to tend the flame of the soul.

We might recall the life of Miyamoto Musashi, the legendary swordsman of Japan. In his later years, he lived not in luxury but in simplicity — rising early, eating sparingly, training the mind as he trained the blade. He said, “Do not fill yourself with excess; even food can cloud the spirit.” His strength did not come from indulgence but from mastery — mastery of hunger, of desire, of self. Likewise, Jamie Anderson’s words remind us that to live well, we must choose deliberately — not in punishment, but in harmony with our purpose.

So let this teaching be passed on: Listen to your body as you would to a wise elder. Feed it not out of habit, but with care. Choose food that strengthens rather than dulls, that brings lightness rather than weight. But also, do not fear the occasional sweetness, for joy, too, is nourishment. The art of living lies not in denial but in the dance between discipline and delight.

And when the hour comes — be it 10:30 or 11 — and you stand before your humble meal, eat as though you were partaking in a sacred act. For you are. In every bite, you are reaffirming the covenant between the earth that feeds you and the spirit that drives you. Eat simply, live wisely, and let your choices reflect reverence for the life that flows through you.