A speck of dust

During a season of change it's easy to forget about everyone else. There are 7.6 billion beating hearts in this world and all I can think about is my own.

Perspective is one of my favourite words because it is one that cropped up four years ago when I was first getting treatment for my anxiety and depression. Perspective is the word I go back to every time I stumble, every time there is change.

Even when the change is good, it can be hard. I started a new job a few weeks ago and I love it. It's what I've wanted to do ever since I figured out what I wanted to do (this has been the year of, like, realising stuff) but it is bloody terrifying.

I think I will always feel like this – fear will always manifest itself in my experiences, following me as I venture down different avenues. Today, however, I am finding my groove and I am staying put. I feel useful. I am contributing to something I care about, finally. I am placed exactly where I need to be. I am a cog in this magnificent mechanism that is life – something I will never be able to fathom.

I don't know why, but writing and rewriting a sentence to grammatical perfection makes my soul sing. And I know I don't always get it right. There are probably mistakes in this blog post, but I'm in my flow, I'm feeling it. It might be different for you. Whatever it is that gives you a buzz - feeling needed, feeling new, feeling like you can change something in this gigantic world. It's the same feeling I get when I finish my to-do list, when I cook my favourite dinner, bake a delicious cake, when I finished an essay in school, nailed that point I had floating around in my head, speak up when I'm scared, find a fiver in my pocket.

It is these moments that bring me to the surface of my own suffering. My head bobs up and sees the potential in everything else. It asks someone else how they are. It gives someone a compliment. It sees a sliver of your life.

Because it's not just me and my problems. There are 7.6 billion others feeling this, feeling more, feeling less. I am just, in the words of Kimya Dawson, a speck of dust inside a giant's eye. And, while my purpose is solely grounded in God, my time on earth is limited. So, steeping in my millennial self-indulgence I will not. There is work to be done and I'm getting on with it.

Abergavenny Food Festival 2017

The end of summer can only mean one thing for me; The Abergavenny Food Festival. Every year foodies flock to the market town and we eat. There are food vendors, market stalls and demonstrations. It's enough to keep you inspired for the next season, at least. I bring my camera and take as many photos as I can, and find some of my favourite memories here. It's the perfect way to embrace the start of autumn.

Don't these tomatoes look incredible? I did that unforgiveable thing of saying I'd go back later and get some, but ended up in a vegan cookery class that overran so I never got the chance. I can only dream about the bruschetta, salsa and ketchups I could have made with the above.

Crispy squid – something I love but often overlook in favour of something more substantial. This was so delicious, I could have eaten five times as much.

Jessica Seaton's sourdough toast event was the highlight of my weekend. She talked about starter methods, shared her tips and treated us to her favourite toast toppings on her freshly made sourdough.

Every year Mr Todiwala steals the show with his dosa and onion bhajis. I've written about his food before – back in 2015 I ate at his restaurant in London. There is something so simple and special about this food, it puts all other Indian restaurants to shame. I can't recommend it enough. 

Full of my favourite food, new recipes in my pocket and fresh photos on my camera, I took the arduous journey back to Bristol (delayed trains, cancelled trains, etc etc) and counted my blessings. Until next year, AFF.