We are what we consume
Consumption. It’s so huge in our lives. Not just food. Not just drink. Not just material stuff. We consume with the eyes, with the ears and with the mind. We absorb the world in endless ways. And slowly, we become it.
A platter of fresh fruit makes us light. A packet of chips makes us dull. But so does a late-night doomscroll. So does gossip whispered like poison. Consumption is not just calories. It is information. It is mood. It is company. It is silence or the lack of it.
Every bite tells a story. The apple says “life.” The fried snack says “stress.” Every headline tells a tale. The angry tweet says “fear.” The kind word says “hope.”
Think of your body as a library. Every day you shelve new books. Some are classics, timeless and nourishing. Some are pulp—flashy, addictive, soon forgotten but heavy on the shelves. One day you will open this library and realize: this is me!
They say, “food is medicine.” True. But thought is medicine too. Company is medicine. Even laughter is medicine. Science agrees. Oxytocin from a sincere smile. Endorphins from shared laughter. Serotonin from a morning walk. The pharmacy is not only outside. It is inside.
But the reverse is also true. Junk food clogs arteries. Junk thoughts clog clarity. Junk company clogs inner peace. The stomach can get indigestion. So can the soul.
The truth of life is that nothing consumed ever really disappears. It lingers. A heavy dinner is remembered by the midriff. A ruthless remark is remembered by the dead-beat heart. A late night is remembered by the brain fog the next morning. The bill always arrives.
So, what should we do? We need to edit. Not so perfectly. Not so rigidly. But consciously. Edit our plate. More colour, less grease. Edit our feed. More wisdom, less noise. Edit our circle. More genuineness, less pretence. Edit your thoughts. More gratitude, less grievance.
Notice the word ‘consume’. It means ‘to use up’. If we aren’t careful, what we consume, will finally consumes us. Sugar consumes bone. Anger consumes joy. Wickedness consumes tranquillity. Over time, the eater is eaten. Inwardly. Badly. Beyond retrieval. No worldly exhibit masks it.
Just pause. Think. What did you consume today? Was it ten minutes of silence or two hours of meaningless reels? Was it the voice of a well-wisher who uplifts you, or the endless chatter of complaint?
The future is built from these answers. Slowly. Quietly. In the background. The heart attack does not arrive on the day of junk eating. It arrives after years of having it. The anxiety attack does not arrive after one ugly experience. It arrives after months of relapsing flashback. Patterns matter. They are invisible until they explode. Time tells us everything. Sometimes graciously, at times ghastly.
But consumption can also rescue us. A glass of water instead of soft drink. A walk instead of another scroll. A good book instead of empty gossip. A call to a trusted one instead of brooding alone. Tiny swaps. Huge returns.
Even people of past knew this. Ibn Sina professed moderation in food, sleep and talk. It’s nothing new, but we have forgotten the wisdom. Modern science says that heart rate variability shows resilience. The body likes variation. But not chaos. The same is true for the mind. Balance. Rhythm. Gentle shifts.
So, let us think of the heart. It beats without pause. Three billion times in a lifetime. Every beat fuelled by what we feed it. Food, yes. But also, feelings. Animosity stiffens arteries. Tenderness eases them. Fear quickens the pulse. Calm steadies it. The heart listens not just to diet but to life.
They say, “we are what we eat.” But perhaps the truth is sharper: we are what we repeat. What we repeat becomes our blood. Our thought. Our face. Our fate.
So tomorrow, choose differently. One meal. One thought. One silence. One smile. One kindness. Tiny edits that change the library of the self. Because in the end, we do not live separately from what we consume. We are affixed to it. We are written by it. We are carried by it. We become what we consume.
