I definitely try to eat a healthy diet, but I am the first person

Listen, O children of the Earth, for the words of Rachel Nichols ring with a truth that spans both the wisdom of the ancients and the realities of modern life: "I definitely try to eat a healthy diet, but I am the first person to say I love unhealthy food. I would never tell you I don't. I love fried chicken or mac and cheese. Do I order them all the time when I'm out at restaurants? No, though I do have one splurge meal a week." In this simple admission, she lays bare the eternal struggle between the desires of the body and the discipline of the soul. For the balance between health and indulgence is a struggle as old as humankind itself.

In the ancient world, those who sought wisdom understood that the body and the soul are bound together, and each must be nurtured. The great Hippocrates taught that "Let food be thy medicine, and medicine be thy food," yet even he knew that balance was the key to maintaining both strength and clarity. The ancient Greeks believed in the harmony of mind, body, and spirit, and they understood that to honor the body was to honor the life force that resides within. Rachel Nichols echoes this ancient wisdom—health must be pursued, but not at the expense of living fully, not at the cost of enjoying the simple pleasures of life.

Consider, O children, the tale of Alexander the Great, who was known for his insatiable ambition. Yet, in the midst of his relentless campaigns, he understood the importance of celebration and indulgence. After a great victory, it was said that Alexander would partake in banquets filled with wine, roast meats, and rich dishes, a contrast to the Spartan diet that had shaped his soldiers. Alexander knew that to truly lead, he must not only be disciplined in his endeavors but also embrace the full range of human experiences, including the joy of indulgence. So too, Rachel Nichols embraces this balance—recognizing the importance of healthy eating while acknowledging the humanity of enjoying a splurge meal.

In our own time, we often view food through a lens of morality—good and bad, healthy and unhealthy. Yet the ancient wisdom teaches us that such judgments are not always helpful. Even the great philosopher Aristotle, who valued temperance, knew that excess and deprivation are equally dangerous. To live well, he taught, is to embrace the middle path, the balance between indulgence and restraint. Rachel Nichols speaks to this balance—she does not deny her love for fried chicken or mac and cheese, but she does not allow them to dominate her life. She understands the importance of self-discipline, yet also recognizes the need to celebrate and enjoy life’s pleasures in moderation.

There is a lesson to be learned from this balance, for in the world today, we are often pulled in opposite directions—toward the rigorous discipline of health, and the allure of indulgence. Nichols reminds us that the human experience is not one of rigid restriction but of mindful choices. To restrict ourselves entirely from the foods we love is to deny our humanity, while to indulge without thought is to neglect the wisdom of the body. True wisdom lies in the balance, in knowing when to restrain and when to indulge. It is the splurge meal—the act of celebration—that brings joy to life, but it is only truly meaningful when it is part of a disciplined and mindful approach to nourishment.

And so, O children, let us take this wisdom to heart. Honor your body with the foods that sustain it, but do not forget the pleasures that life offers. The splurge meal—whether it be a simple dish of fried chicken or mac and cheese, or something more exotic—reminds us that joy is an integral part of health. Embrace the fullness of life, but remember that discipline and balance are the keys to lasting well-being. The ancients knew that the way to strength is not through denial but through harmony, and Rachel Nichols carries this torch forward. Let us follow her example, for in the joy of a well-balanced life, we find the true essence of health and happiness.