Cleansing the mind can be as powerful as cleansing the body. In Rich Roll’s conversation with Jennifer Pastiloff, she speaks candidly about losing her father as a child, how that grief distorted her sense of identity and how she slowly began to rewrite that story. One of her most resonant phrases is: "Your inner asshole is not telling you the truth."That voice in your head that criticises, doubts and undermines you is just noise. And cleansing the mind is about daring to silence it.What if the most radical act of healing is subtractive? A return to remembering who you really are.

I binge-watched Lena Dunham's Too Much this week. As chaotic, brilliantly funny, and whip-smart as the show is, what lingers most isn’t the raw real or the frenetic pacing; it’s the quiet ache beneath it all, the longing to be truly seen, to be held — not just metaphorically, but literally. It's a show about disconnection in the age of hyper-connection, and it's an impeccable portrayal of the emotionally-constipated British!Underneath all the glam and mess is the most basic human craving: real connection.

I’ve been dipping in and out ofThe Pivot Yearby Brianna Wiest over the past year, and it’s become something of a handbook for me. There’s no pressure to read it in order — just a page or two is often enough to shift perspective or lift the weight of a day.

I listened to Brianna on a podcast recently and was struck by how grounded and sincere she is. She came across as incredibly humble, warm, and clear. That same tone runs through every page. Somehow, whatever you’re going through, the words seem to meet you there. It’s a book I keep close.

To quieten racing thoughts and anxiety at night, I love Beyond Anxiety by Martha Beck — it’s a book I come back to time and again.Martha is a Harvard-trained sociologist and life coach who blends science with spiritual insight and deep compassion. Shereframes anxiety as a sign that something within us is asking for attention, not suppression.The mistake we make sometimes is trying to shut thoughts down, when actually, justunderstanding what they’re trying to say can help us stop a thought-spiral keeping us awake. 

I’m still readingThe End of Timeby Julian Barbour that I mentioned in last week's newsletter, but this week I’ve also been absorbed byThe Rich Roll Podcast, particularly his conversation with Craig Mod: Walking As Medicine.Craig speaks openly about his childhood, describing it as a time shadowed by the absence of light— warmth, connection, and safety. His story is about his deliberate pursuit of light: moving to Japan, creating mindful rituals, walking as daily medicine, and building brightness into his life where it didn’t naturally exist.It’s a powerful reminder that light isn’t always something we inherit; it’s something we can choose to seek and consciously create.

I’ve just started readingThe End of Timeby Julian Barbour — a thought-provoking book that challenges the way we understand time itself. Barbour proposes that time doesn’t actually exist as we think it does; instead, the universe is made up of a series of ‘nows’ — individual, complete moments that don’t flow but simply are. It’s already making me reflect on how we experience change, and how much of our energy is spent moving towards some imagined future rather than fully inhabiting the present. It's a powerful invitation to slow down and really notice the now.

After surviving a life-altering brain haemorrhage, Clemency Burton-Hill's story — and this book — feels like a deep reminder of what internal support really means: rhythm, flow, nourishment we can return to, even when everything else feels unsteady. Year of Wonder offers a piece of music for each day of the year, with a short reflection to accompany it. Clemency, a classical violinist, broadcaster and writer, wrote it to help people reconnect with music as a daily source of comfort. It’s the kind of read you can dip into for just a minute a day and feel more anchored.

I've just finished reading James by Percival Everett: a bold and brilliant retelling of The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn; this time from Jim's perspective. Jim speaks in two voices — one that conforms to what white people expect to hear, and another, sharp and self-aware, that reveals the depth of his thoughts, his wit and his strategic brilliance. This duality becomes a powerful commentary on the performative nature of survival under oppression, and a searing reflection on the enduring legacy of racial injustice in America. It felt like a timely and somewhat urgent read.

I've just finished reading True and False Magic by Phil Stutz, an exploration of the hidden forces that shape our lives. Stutz blends practical psychology with a touch of mysticism, offering tools that feel both grounded and surprisingly empowering. It’s the kind of book that invites you to rethink how you face challenges — preferably head-on and with creativity. A refreshing read for anyone curious about personal growth beyond the usual self-help fare.