It’s funny, normally when we think of children, we picture them moving through life at 100mph, never being able to focus on one thing for too long without getting bored.

But when I think of little Bronwen, sat for hours in a chair reading a book or playing house, I remember I didn’t always have to be busy to be happy.

From memory, I was always pretty good at keeping myself busy. I’m sure I complained I was bored from time to time, just like any child, but I was genuinely quite content listening to music in my room, playing with Barbies or playing traffic jams with my little brother or sister.

And every day, month and year felt so much longer back then too! Time flies nowadays and yet, I still feel the need to fill it up with more and more stuff. I love being around people and lately, I think I’ve forgotten how much contentment can come from being in my own space.

I don’t even have to look as far back as my childhood to realise that my happy place is someplace like this cosy corner of the conservatory at my parents’ house. And quite simply, all I need to do to keep myself on the straight and narrow is channel a younger Bronwen and find a cosy corner with a book in it from time to time. And breathe.