I am stalked by sadness in my quiet moments: when I meditate, when I run, when I do shivasana at the end of yoga practice. My mind catches me with images of my father, with questions about whether I did all that I could to save his life, with sad truths and I succumb. Sometimes I cry. This is often the case when I run. A song or a stray thought will bring it all back and I am crying again.

I make space inside myself for the sadness, knowing that it is disrespectful of grief to shove it away and probably not all that effective anyway. Also, as a writer, I need to be able to reach my emotions to write effectively. I just hope that when January arrives and I leave my job to begin again as a writer, grief and sadness are not the only emotions I will be able to feel.