Rising from Ashes: Rediscovering Myself After Multiple Myeloma

After months of grueling treatment and constant battles against multiple myeloma, my body felt foreign to me. But as I slowly regained my strength and emerged from the ashes of my old life, I found a newfound purpose and determination within myself. Each morning, I woke up with renewed hope. I tackled challenges head-on, finding solace in the small victories of my recovery journey.

Every morning, I host a heartfelt community called the Bells of Hope. This daily ritual unites the members of our group as a microcosm of the world. Sometimes, I read excerpts from Mark Nepo's book, "The Book of Awakening.” Our discussions still radiate hope and inspiration, reminding us that even in the darkest times, there is still light and unity to be found. As we gather in our virtual garden, rays of warm sunlight or the rising moon cast a golden glow on our faces. It is a small moment of peace amidst the chaos and uncertainty surrounding us. It reminds us that we are not alone and can overcome challenges together. The passing of Nancy, a cherished member of our Bells family, left us all feeling lost and heartbroken. As we gather to reminisce and comfort each other, a mix of emotions fills the air — from laughter, to tears, to nervous chatter. At this moment, we cling to each other for support and find solace in a glimmer of hope and positivity, determined to face whatever challenges lie ahead.

Amid noisy gatherings and bustling activities, I sought solace in moments of quietude. With my pen in hand, I poured my thoughts and inspirations onto my small linen journal book. I reconnected with my family's deep-rooted history through blogging and writing memoirs. The words flowed freely, like a healing balm for my soul, providing closure and soothing wounds I didn't even know existed. As each page filled with my story, I discovered a newfound sense of kinship that had long evaded me.

As I took a deep breath and released a powerful note, a feeling of achievement washed over me. Singing had become my physical therapy, helping me rebuild my collapsed lungs after the devastating effects of my shrunken body and toxic medication. My wife gifted me weekly singing lessons with her sister, Laurel. But with each song, I couldn't help but feel conflicted.

The melodies were uplifting and freeing, but they also reminded me of the arduous journey I had been on. As I belted out "Moon River," memories of playing it on my clarinet in high school flooded back. When I sang Frank Sinatra's "My Life," the lyrics struck a chord as I reflected on my life in remission. Music had become my medicine, healing both body and soul, but it reminded me of the battle I had fought to get here. Yet through every note and every key change, my resilient voice echoed my determination to overcome any obstacle that came my way.

I turned to the soothing art of cooking to ensure my physical and mental well-being. With care and precision, I crafted meals using only the freshest organic ingredients. Every dish was a canvas for my creativity and experimentation, as the aromas and flavors filled my kitchen with warmth and comfort. Last week, I made a pear oatmeal tart and lemony cod & potato stew. I am considering the next stir-fry dish with farm-fresh broccoli, leeks, string beans and carrots.

Cooking became more than just a means of sustenance; it was a form of self-care and nourishment for my body and soul.

Amidst the chaos and uncertainty in my life, one decision has remained constant — becoming a Qigong teacher. This ancient practice has brought me physical strength and an unexpected sense of peace and balance. I used to be consumed by external factors like feng shui. Still, now I focus on finding inner harmony through the fluid movements and controlled breathing of Qigong. Yet, as much as it brings me tranquility, becoming a Qigong teacher has also brought internal conflict. Being in harmony with nature has always brought me a sense of inner peace, but lately, I can't shake off this feeling of unease. Despite the positive changes Qigong has brought to my physical and spiritual well-being, I can't help but question if it's truly enough. Is there more to life than this? A part of me yearns for something new and unknown, while another part of me clings to the familiar comfort of routine and tradition.

For more news on cancer updates, research and education, don’t forget to subscribe to CURE®’s newsletters here.