Sunday, 21st September, 2025
Week two : Mind, Body, Soul Reset
Some weeks are built of discipline, structure, and fire. Others feel like rubble — scattered pieces you’re not sure how to put back together. This week was rubble. And yet, hidden in the cracks, there was light. The remembering. The spark that refuses to die out, no matter how heavy the shadow feels.
I’ve faced pressure this week that bent me low. I’ve looked at the mountain in front of me and thought, I can’t climb this one. And still, every morning, I picked up my pen and journaled. I recorded words of encouragement for others, even when I was struggling to believe them myself. I stood up and carried on with the day’s work, back aching, mind tired, but still showing up. That is the story of this week: not polished, not triumphant — but present, raw, and refusing to disappear.
Mind
My mind has been a battlefield. The old voices showed up, whispering of failure, pushing shame into every gap. When plans changed, when money weighed heavy, when my energy dipped — those voices grabbed hold, quick to shout, “See? You’re falling again.”
But here’s the truth I remembered: I am not those voices. They are echoes of an old story, but they are not who I am. The practice this week was naming them for what they are. Saying out loud, “This is the voice of failure, not the truth.”
Even in the storm, I found proof of who I really am: in conversations where honesty cut through and connection was real, in moments where my heart spoke louder than my doubt, in the spark of sharing with others. I remembered that I am more than my mistakes. I am more than the weight on my shoulders. I am a soul that knows its own light, even when it’s clouded over.
Body
The body tells the truth. Mine has felt tired this week — weighed down by poor choices with food, drained by hard physical work, reluctant to move the way I usually want it to. Some mornings I stayed in bed, some nights I ate more than I should, and I felt the consequences.
But the body also remembers. It remembers strength, discipline, and flow. Even when I didn’t train like I wanted, I still moved — plastering is labour, dog walks count, stretching in the bath counts. And I know this: the spark in me is not about perfect routines. It’s about persistence. Fasting when it serves me. Training when I can. Resting when I must. Each choice is a step back toward balance.
I am learning that discipline is not punishment. Discipline is love. It’s listening to the body — honouring its need for rest as much as its need for movement — and trusting that with kindness, strength returns.
Soul
This is where the real battle was this week. Soul felt fragile. I wanted rescue, a way out, something external to swoop in and save me. But deep down, I know the truth: there is no rescue. Not in the way I imagine it. The only way forward is through.
And yet — this is not hopeless. Because when I sit still, when I stop numbing or running, I remember. I remember that I am not just Gareth, worn out and stressed by bills and deadlines. I am Thalen. I am a spark of the infinite, a flame carried through lifetimes. And no weight of debt, no long day of plastering, no restless night can take that away.
This knowing is the fruit that has not yet ripened. It’s the seed that lies beneath the soil, unseen but alive. Every time I journal instead of hiding, every time I record a podcast instead of staying silent, every time I choose to face the day instead of giving up — I am watering that seed. One day, I will see it bear fruit.
Relationships
I wasn’t perfect this week. I was selfish, reactive, crabby at times. But love isn’t about perfection — it’s about return. Returning to honesty, returning to patience, returning to the person in front of you with openness again and again.
I see where I need to grow. I see where I need to be kinder in my words, more patient in my listening. But I also see the grace of those who walk beside me, and that grace is a reminder: I am not alone, even when I feel like I am.
Practical steps I took
I journalled every single day — even when I didn’t want to.
I released a week of podcasts — my voice carrying light even through struggle.
I started compiling debt lists and details — because facing reality is how freedom starts.
I walked Freyja, choosing fresh air over hiding indoors.
I reached out to family for support in health goals — proof that asking is strength.
These might look small, but in weeks like this, they are victories.
Gratitudes from the week
The chance to celebrate my daughter’s birthday — her joy is an anchor.
Rachel’s love and patience — a mirror of grace I don’t always extend to myself.
Work that, though back-breaking, provides stability.
Unexpected connections — a coffee, a passing chat, a reminder that I’m seen.
The breath in my lungs and the spark within that refuses to go out.
Closing
This week didn’t feel easy. It didn’t feel strong. But the truth underneath it is this: I kept standing. I kept writing. I kept showing up. I remembered that even when my mind is loud, my body heavy, and my spirit shaken — I am still the spark.
And that spark is infinite.
Next week I’ll keep building. I’ll keep refining. I’ll keep showing up for the little things — because little things are what fruit is grown from.
If you’re in a week like mine, know this: you are not your failure voice. You are not the weight pressing on you. You are the spark underneath. Hold to it. Water it. It will bear fruit.
— Gareth / Thalen