A Journey through trauma: a memoir about grief, healing, memory, trauma, spiritual quest and social justice

I am finally getting used to being home. Two weeks into 2013, I have the kind of routine reserved for unemployed recent graduates. I wake up and try to convince myself to run. On the days where the tedium of being in Centurion wins out, I lace up, push the gate open and put my earphones in. I take a breath whilst Florence Welch's vibrato nudges me to get going. My feet slowly shuffle up the cul-de sac that winds around the corner and ends at the security gate. The best time to jog midweek in the suburbs is after the school run