Toast Can Heal You Now

I heard an acronym the other day that made me genuinely laugh out loud: BALM. Not the stuff you put on dry lips, but:

"Baking as a Lifestyle Medicine."

Yes, really.

Apparently, making a tray of cinnamon buns now counts as a therapeutic intervention. Your kitchen? A clinic. Your apron? A lab coat. That rotting sourdough starter you forgot in the back of the fridge? A missed dose.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I like baking. I like it because it smells good, makes people happy, and occasionally results in something edible. But I’ve never once thought, “You know what this Victoria sponge needs? A treatment plan.”

And yet, here we are. Another perfectly normal hobby has been wrapped in a wellness acronym, given a three-step protocol, and presumably offered as a £399 weekend workshop somewhere in the Cotswolds.

Probably with a tote bag that says “Just Add Yeast.”

The Acronym-ification of Everything

BALM isn’t a one-off. It’s part of a trend.

The relentless urge to turn every human habit into a method. Walking becomes a “mindfulness ritual.” Drinking water becomes “focus optimisation.” Rest becomes “circadian performance alignment.”

The moment a behaviour is rebranded, it gets elevated. It’s no longer something you just do, it’s something you practice. Something with benefits. Something worth talking about. Better still, something worth charging for.

There’s a strange social capital attached to these acronyms. If you’re doing BALM, you’re not just baking. You’re investing in your emotional regulation via gluten. You’ve read the research. You’ve mastered the method.

You’re better than the rest of us with our chaotic, unstructured carrot cakes.

If You Can’t Beat Them, Acronym Them

In the spirit of embracing the absurd, I’ve created a few acronyms of my own. Feel free to drop these into your next LinkedIn post, podcast, or personal rebrand. No actual effort required, which is, frankly, the point.

SLEEP – Stopping Life Events Every Evening Purposefully

True wellness starts when you deliberately end your day at a responsible hour, possibly while doomscrolling in bed and pretending it’s meditation.

MILD – Making Instant Lunch Daily

A highly sustainable approach to midday nourishment. Ideal for those who believe reheating leftovers is a form of culinary innovation.

CALM – Caffeinating Alone Like a Monk

Spiritual alignment through silence, solitude, and a flat white. Bonus points if you stare out a window while thinking about literally nothing.

FIRM – Facing Inbox Realities Mindfully

A digital decluttering protocol designed to ruin your morning gently. Includes deep breathing between promotional emails.

BLISS – Buying Limes In Sustainable Segments

A citrus-forward method for avoiding bulk waste and appearing organised. Recommended for anyone who owns a woven basket and refers to their kitchen as a “space.”

I’ve trademarked all of these, and if you see CALM™ on a coffee subscription box next year, don't be surprised. It's just me trying to make a quick buck whilst saving humanity. That's all.

Why We Love Systems (Even the Ridiculous Ones)

There’s a deeper reason this acronym frenzy keeps growing: systems give us a sense of control.

Life is messy. Habits are hard. And if someone offers you a neat little method that promises better sleep, less stress, or a more meaningful relationship with toast, it’s hard to resist.

Acronyms add structure. They make the abstract feel manageable. It’s much easier to commit to BALM than to admit you just like licking cake batter off a spoon in silence.

BALM makes it important. Acronyms signal to the world, and to ourselves, that we’re doing something with our lives, even if that something is literally just making toast.

They also give us language to share. “I’m doing BALM” sounds a lot more interesting than “I made muffins.”

But the danger is this: the more we filter ordinary joys through frameworks and systems, the more disconnected we become from the joy itself.

You don’t need a reason to bake bread. You don’t need to optimise your walk. You don’t need a spreadsheet to justify reading a book.

Do One Thing This Week (No Acronym Required)

So here’s a small challenge: try doing something this week without systemising it.

No timers. No journals. No data. No goals.

Just one simple, ordinary thing done purely for the joy of doing it.

I did this recently with a walk. Not a mindful walk. Not a walk to process anything. Just a walk, to nowhere, with no purpose except to be outside. No headphones, no app, no intention to solve or learn or progress. Just feet and pavement and 40 minutes of unproductive bliss.

And it was lovely.

We don’t need more acronyms. We need more moments like that. Unbranded. Unmeasured. Unimproveable.

Try it. Do your one thing. And if you must, give it a name. Make it silly. Make it yours. And let me know what it was.

Until next time,

Jon "Writer And Notetaker Knowingly Eating Raisins" Kaye

Choosing to live more deliberately

P.S.

I'd love you to check out the YouTube video I made this week about creativity. Please like, comment, share and subscribe. It really helps. Thanks.