My kids love to go hiking with me. One reason, besides all the obvious pleasure to be found in the Santa Monica Mountains, is a game we play called "I spy." It begins when someone shouts "I spy ..." and says a color -- say, red. Everyone else then has to guess what that red thing is, and the winner gets to spy something else.

What's great about "I spy" is the way it trains the eye. Instead of focusing on just the gray rock, you learn to see its rust-colored veins. Instead of a flower's blue petals, you also notice its yellow pistil.

And just as it is critical to develop this keener awareness in the visual world, so too must we develop it when it comes to our relationship with food.

Unfortunately, most people don't connect eating with the way they feel physically and mentally, unless they're coping with indigestion. While they wouldn't dream of putting anything less than the highest-octane gasoline into their car's tank, they don't seem to realize that their bodies also knock and ping from inferior fuel.

You just have to learn what to listen for, because often what you think you're hearing is something else entirely.

Recently a friend complained to me about being overweight. Joanne said she was unable to control her eating, especially in the evenings. "I've never had good willpower," she moaned.