I was so used to gritting my teeth and fighting the relentless flow I always seemed to be going in the opposite way to. Why had I lost that fight? Why was I weak now?

The room was quiet, it was just me there. It was dark outside and a few low lights made a warm glow on the old rough stone walls of the kitchen. The art was a piece of white paper with the black outline of a heart on. The heart was full of torn up pieces of colourful paper and underneath was written ‘I love you to pieces’.

Like plants, we need the right conditions in order to thrive.

‘Where do you live?’. It depends on exactly when you ask me.

Modern life may seem ‘natural’, permanent, the pinnacle of achievement for us as a species, a species that’s been around for 300,000 years, but we are far from the pinnacle.