How do I sit with grief without it consuming my entire life completely?

Mirabai knew something we often forget: grief and joy aren't opposites. They're neighbors. She wrote about loss—her husband, her family's rejection, her longing for Krishna—but what strikes me is that her devotion never became bitter. She held both things at once. What helped her, and what might help you: don't try to fix the grief or rush past it. Instead, notice where it *lives* in your body. Is it in your chest? Your throat? Spend time there without judgment, the way you'd sit with a friend who's hurting. Even five minutes. Then do one small thing that's entirely for you—something that has nothing to do with loss. Water a plant. Listen to a song you love. Call someone just to laugh. This isn't distraction; it's how you remind yourself that life is still happening alongside the grief. Mirabai's poems weren't written *despite* her sorrow—they were written *through* it. The examined heart, as she lived it, means you get to grieve fully and still be alive. Both are true. Start small. What's one thing today that could be yours, separate from the weight?