This may not sound like a revolutionary concept for a blog, but bare with me.

After a hectic weekend travelling across the country seeing friends, family and my new nephew, I found myself lying on the floor in front of the fire.

Despite there being two, very, comfy sofas, I knelt down and lay on the rug, staring at the toom from an entirely different vantage point than I am used to.

The artwork on the wall looked different and I noticed the photographs in a way that I wouldn’t have before. I found myself totally and utterly lost in what felt like a whole new world on the floor, my body absolutely relaxing into the plush, warm, carpet.

It’s not just this instance where I’ve chosen the floor over a sofa. At my grandparents, I would always be sat on the floor with my brother, expected to sit there as the youngest in the group.

Even now, if I go round me and my cousins have all commented on the comforting nature of being sat on the floor, sat at the feed of our parents and grandparents.

It is this time that I think we all go back to. A time when the majority of your time was spent whizzing a toy car around the floor, or creating a mansion estate for your Barbie.

These were times before all we could see was digital screens and before we had anything really to worry about.

The more I thought about sitting on the floor, the more important the small act felt. I remember coming back from one of many unsuccessful interviews after University and lying on the floor in the garden, howling because I was convinced I would never get a job.

Similarly, when my dad passed way, my first move was to crawl on the floor and cuddle my dogs. Despite the trauma of that moment, I distinctly remember my mum telling me to get up off the floor.

There’s a divide, physically between the floor, but I wonder if there is also a psychological one too. For me, the floor is a safer space, somewhere where there’s less pressure in a sense.

It’s not just sad moments where I’ve felt that pull to the floor. Recently with my nephew, I was demanded to play, which of course happens on the floor. The best moment with my dog are also spent winding him up on the floor.

As I sit here writing this blog in my usual spot (you guessed it, on the floor) I wonder what more I can do to feel that same connection and freedom that I feel on the ground.

Until the next blog, I challenge you to spend five minutes, in silence, on your own floor.