I bless the people I see who are in perfect health for I know what I give out must come back.

Envy is a normal feature of being unwell, and it turns up in unflattering places. A runner going past the window. Someone at the next table complaining about a hangover. Colleagues making plans for a weekend three months out.

Nobody chooses that reaction, and nobody should be ashamed of having it.

But there is a small move available: silently wishing the runner a good one. Less spiritual accounting than a way of putting the weight down for a second.

What comes back does not always arrive in the currency you sent it out in. What does come back, fairly reliably, is a quieter afternoon inside your own head.