Just as food eaten without appetite is a tedious nourishment, so

Host: The evening air was thick with the hum of the city, the sky just beginning to darken as the lights of the streetlamps flickered to life. The café, tucked in a quiet corner, was almost empty now, save for a few stragglers nursing the last of their drinks. Jack and Jeeny sat at a table near the window, their mugs of coffee long finished, but the conversation still bubbling between them like the soft murmur of distant waves. The last rays of sunlight filtered through the glass, casting long, sharp shadows across the table.

Jeeny: Her eyes were soft but thoughtful as she spoke, her fingers lightly tracing the edge of her cup. "I’ve been thinking about what Leonardo da Vinci said — about how food without appetite is like study without zeal. The idea that if we don’t truly desire what we take in, we can’t truly absorb it." She paused, her voice quiet, as if she were still unraveling the thought in her mind. "Isn’t that how we approach learning, Jack? We take in so much, but how much of it do we actually absorb?"

Jack: He leaned back in his chair, his expression slightly distant, as though he were mulling over the words themselves. "Yeah, I get what he’s saying. If you’re not really into something, if you’re not driven by some kind of passion, then everything just feels like a chore, right? Study becomes like eating without hunger — it’s just a means to an end." He sighed, the weight of the question lingering in his voice. "But then, is it always about desire? Can’t we just learn for the sake of learning, without needing some huge fire inside of us?"

Jeeny: Her gaze sharpened slightly, a faint smile tugging at her lips as she leaned forward. "That’s the thing, though, Jack. If we’re not engaged, if we’re not truly curious, how can we really internalize anything? I mean, think about it: when you’re passionate about something — whether it’s a subject, a skill, or even a person — you don’t need anyone to force you to pay attention. You absorb it naturally. It sticks with you. But when you’re just going through the motions, it’s like you’re eating something without truly tasting it. The experience doesn’t leave a mark."

Jack: He stared out the window, the sound of distant traffic and the hum of the café fading into the background. "Maybe. But not everything we study is going to set us on fire, right? Some things are just necessary. We can’t be excited about every single thing we have to learn, especially if we’re talking about work or school." His voice was a little lower, more reflective now, as though he were talking to himself as much as to her. "Sometimes, it’s just about getting through it, checking the boxes. Not everything needs to be a life-changing experience."

Jeeny: Her eyes never left his, her voice gentle, but insistent. "But Jack, that’s exactly what makes learning so much more than a task. It’s about the mindset. If we go into everything with the mentality that we’re just checking boxes, of course it’ll feel tedious. And that’s when our memory, our ability to retain the information, suffers. Because we’re not truly engaging with it, not taking the time to understand. What we absorb doesn’t get the chance to settle into our minds." She paused, the quiet of the café deepening around them, before continuing. "It’s like food. If you eat something without true appetite, it doesn’t nourish you the way it could. It just fills you up, but that’s it."

Jack: He nodded slowly, a thoughtful frown crossing his face. "I see what you’re saying. But how do we find that appetite, that zeal for things that don’t come naturally to us? We can’t just turn on desire when it’s convenient, can we?" His voice was edged with a hint of frustration, as if he were struggling to reconcile the idea of passion with the everyday grind of life. "I mean, you can’t force yourself to be excited about something you don’t care about. That’s the whole point, right?"

Jeeny: She smiled softly, the light from the window casting a gentle glow on her face. "No, you can’t force yourself to feel something you don’t, but maybe we’re missing the point. The passion or zeal doesn’t have to come from an external source. Sometimes, it’s about creating that spark within yourself. It’s about finding something in the subject or the task that speaks to you. It’s about finding meaning in the small details, and letting those details guide you into something deeper." Her eyes softened as she spoke, the passion in her voice carrying the weight of her belief. "When you’re genuinely curious, you want to understand. You want to learn. It’s about making the connection between the subject and your own interests."

Jack: His eyes drifted back to hers, a quiet understanding passing between them. "So you’re saying it’s not about waiting for the perfect subject to show up, it’s about how we approach it, how we make it our own?" His tone was thoughtful, as if the gears in his mind were slowly clicking into place. "Even the stuff we don’t immediately care about can be made meaningful, if we approach it with the right mindset."

Jeeny: "Exactly," she said, her smile widening. "It’s about perspective. Even the most tedious tasks can hold value if we choose to engage with them. If we bring our curiosity to the table, if we allow ourselves to truly experience what we’re learning. When we take it in with zeal, when we appreciate the process instead of just the outcome, that’s when we start absorbing. That’s when learning becomes more than just a chore. It becomes nourishment."

Host: The soft murmur of the café around them seemed to fade away, leaving only the quiet hum of understanding between Jack and Jeeny. The light from the window slowly dimmed as the evening stretched on, but the quiet realization that learning — true, meaningful learning — was not a passive act, but something that required engagement, curiosity, and zeal, settled in the space between them. It wasn’t just about taking in information; it was about actively digesting it, allowing it to nourish the mind and the spirit. As they sat there, the weight of Leonardo’s words hung in the air, a reminder that the most important lessons in life weren’t just those that filled the page, but those that resonated deep within.