I was forced to learn a lot about psychology as a player, and as a captain to get the best out of others. There's still a lot of scepticism about it in sport and the workplace, but dealing with fluctuations of form, and pressure, and being away from home are more important than your cover-drive.
It's incredible to watch how our cricket clubs depend on volunteers.
We all live in this little bubble that we just expect to live forever and I think those of us that have been with people battling cancer, you realise, actually, this surrounds us everywhere we go.
I have to watch my language. I think a lot about the words I use in both the public environment and the dressing room. The language you use is a direct insight into how you are feeling.
I'm happy unless I'm not happy. And I think this is the thing with grief, there is no rhyme or reason to it and it's been completely different to how I thought it was going to be.
I think you grieve different elements, you grieve your wife who's gone, you grieve the fact she had cancer and you had to watch her die, you grieve the fact the life you built isn't going to be the same as the one going forward. All these different elements hit you at different times.
In the cricket world, with a lot of little issues that people are getting in a tizz around, I'm just like: Don't worry about it.
If someone has cancer, it's not just them who has cancer - it's everyone around them as well and it's tough.
I played a very background role in terms of trying to get the environment together but Eoin Morgan and Trevor Bayliss have done a great job.
This whole quest to win the 2019 World Cup, that was my job when I was director of England cricket.
Grief is a bit of a journey, and it is evolving all the time but I am very functional.
If you think about the practical difficulties of having a relationship with somebody on the other side of the world, it defies all logic.
That's what sport can do to you: it gives you a lot of heartache and pain, and sometimes the ultimate rewards.
But there are definitely times when I just need to write to clarify my thoughts and put any doubts to bed.
When I arrived at Middlesex I was the only guy who'd been to public school and I got plenty of stick. But it wasn't held against me for long.
So I never forget how lucky I am. That's the reason above all else why I'm determined to keep enjoying cricket, whatever the wins or the losses. As long as I do that then the runs will come.
If we broaden the audience for cricket, more people will be interested in all forms, then TV rights and sponsors and crowds will follow.
I don't want to overplay the diary's significance, but it's a really helpful batting aid. It's not an obsession because I don't spend more than 10 or 20 minutes writing a day - and not necessarily every day. I might write in it three days in a row and then not the next four. It depends on the situation.
There is no reason why cricket shouldn't be the number one alternative to football. And at a time when there are obvious divisions in society, cricket has a great role to play in bringing people together from all sorts of diverse backgrounds and faiths.
No one has ever doubted Kevin Pietersen's abilities as a player, he has been a phenomenal player for England for a long period of time, his record stacks up to anyone's in English cricket and he should be very proud of his record.
