Let Your Yoga Dance!

After Sarah Grace died, it was essential to surround myself with loving people who could understand that I was bearing the unbearable. My beloved friend Eileen Quinn told me she was sending a letter to the 350 Kripalu residents to tell them what they could and could not say when we met in the hallways. Together we concocted a script for them. We wrote that it was important to acknowledge Sarah Grace. She was my daughter; she had a name.

For me, one of the most important aspects of grieving is to let feelings be there, no matter how tempestuous. I remember thinking when the baby died, “I’ll never stop crying.” But if I simply let myself have my moment(s) of grief, the moment would indeed pass. Grieving is exhausting; not letting myself grieve is more so.

I recently participated in a telesummit in which I was asked to share ways that I have dealt with dark times. I decided to revisit my toughest loss, because it has reshaped the rest of my life. I’m grateful to have had this chance to look back and examine with new insights my deepest life sorrow and joy, all rolled up into one: the birth and death of my only child, Sarah Grace, 19 years ago.