My mind isn’t hungry

 

In a small town where nothing very exciting ever seemed to happen, there lived a boy named Oliver. Oliver was not unhappy, but he had a habit that made his days feel heavier than they needed to be.

From the moment he woke up, his mind started talking.

“This is going to be a long day.”
“I’ll probably forget something.”
“People are usually annoying.”
“Things never go smoothly for me.”

Oliver didn’t even notice these thoughts anymore. They were like background noise, like a radio left on in another room.

One afternoon, while walking home from school, he stopped in front of a tiny shop he had never seen before. The sign above the door read: Mrs. Rowan’s Grocery for the Mind.

Curious, Oliver stepped inside.

There were no shelves of food. Instead, jars, boxes, and baskets filled the room. Each one had a label: “Patience,” “Kind Thoughts,” “Calm Mornings,” “Friendly Expectations,” “Second Chances.”

Behind the counter stood an elderly woman with bright eyes and a gentle smile.

“Can I help you?” she asked.

“I think I’m in the wrong shop,” Oliver said. “You don’t sell anything to eat.”

“Oh, but I do,” Mrs. Rowan replied. “I sell food for the mind. And judging by the look on your face, yours might be a bit hungry.”

Oliver frowned. “My mind isn’t hungry.”

Mrs. Rowan leaned forward. “Tell me, what did you ‘eat’ this morning?”

“I had toast,” Oliver said.

She shook her head. “No, what did you feed your thoughts?”

Oliver thought for a moment. “I said it would be a long day. And that I’d probably forget something.”

Mrs. Rowan nodded knowingly. She handed him a small jar labeled ‘Maybe Today Will Surprise Me’.

“Try this tomorrow morning instead,” she said.

Oliver took the jar home, feeling slightly silly. The next day, when he woke up and his mind started to say, “This is going to be a long day,” he remembered the jar.

“Maybe today will surprise me,” he whispered instead.

It felt strange. A little fake. But he said it anyway.

At school, something unexpected happened. His math test, which he thought he had failed, turned out better than he imagined. His friend shared a joke that made him laugh. The day didn’t feel so long after all.

That afternoon, Oliver returned to the shop.

“It worked,” he said. “The day was… lighter.”

Mrs. Rowan smiled and handed him another jar: ‘I Can Figure Things Out’.

For the next few days, Oliver began swapping his old thoughts for the new ones. When his mind said, “This is too hard,” he answered, “I can figure things out.” When it said, “People are annoying,” he replied, “Some people are actually quite nice.”

Slowly, things changed. Not in a magical, fireworks kind of way. But in a quiet, steady way.

He forgot fewer things. He argued less. He laughed more. His teachers seemed kinder. His friends seemed funnier.

One evening, Oliver asked Mrs. Rowan, “Did the jars change my life?”

She chuckled. “No. You did. I only helped you choose a better mental diet.”

“A mental diet?”

“Yes,” she said. “Just like your body becomes what you feed it, your days become what you feed your mind.”

Oliver looked around the little shop, now understanding. The jars were never magic. They were reminders.

From then on, whenever his mind tried to serve him the old, stale thoughts, he imagined himself walking into Mrs. Rowan’s shop and choosing something fresher.

And little by little, his ordinary town became a much nicer place to live—because his mind had become a much nicer place to be.