After several weeks of hiding and down time, a few weeks ago I made an official announcement to the non profit organization that I founded Indie Music For Life and its two entities Laughs For Life and Indiegrrl. I dropped off of this blog page for a month and am ready to write again. I needed a break. A break to sort through things. To sort through life.

When you or a loved one are diagnosed with cancer it changes your life. Finding out you have cancer takes your breath away and from that point your breath is the most valuable thing to you in your life. Breath and time. Nothing is normal any more. Not your dreams, your nightmares, and not your waking moments.

A personal diagnosis of chronic myloid leukemia in February sent me into a whirlwind of emotions. At that point, all the fear, terror, and stomach knots from my past rounds of cancer came back. Nobody free of cancer could ever appreciate how utterly devastating the news of contracting it could be and the news that it has returned is even more devastating because you know what uphill climbs you must make again. Once you have been diagnosed with cancer you always look over your shoulder for the beast to return. He has caught up with me several times now and so I am speeding up in my race trying to see who is the best long distance runner. Every ache you feel or every little un-ordinary thing that happens with your body sends you into " What If " mode. It is extremely hard living in that mode of thinking but you can't avoid it.

My past struggles with cancer were very private. But then I was not the head of a non profit organization that raises money for cancer research and educational awareness on the powers of music and laughter as therapy for cancer patients. I wasn't the head of the largest networking group of female songwriters known as Indiegrrl that has since become a part of Indie Music for Life. Laughs For Life had not even been thought of yet and now with the direction and help of good friend and comedian Shelly Ryan it is now a reality. I hadn't even started my music career. Having cancer is what lead me to pursue my career in music and chase my dreams. It wasn't until I started working on my CDs that my cancer became really public other than with my close friends and family and then working to set up the Indie Music For Life non profit put it out there even more.

A friend of mine with breast cancer just sent out an update e-mail to friends and family. She began her message with an apology for her recent lack of communication. But she assured us all that she's been out of the loop not because she's felt sick or tired. It's because she's been too busy with normal life. And that's a good thing, she says.

This friend wasn't so sure how she would fare -- both physically and emotionally -- when she was first diagnosed with cancer. But she seems to have done a champion's job of rolling with the punches. Sure, she's had ups and downs. But she is overwhelmingly positive and hopeful. And jumping off my computer screen as I read her e-mail were at least seven bits of hope that tell me she is doing just fine despite all that is unbelievably hard about breast cancer.

My friend just had her first infusion of Taxol. A breeze, she calls it. One. So easy on her body -- two -- that she headed right out and took her daughter communion dress shopping. Her little love looked beautiful, she wrote. Like a mini-bride. The mother of the mini-bride then -- three -- turned a sad moment into a comforting one when her daughter asked, "Mommy, who do you think will bring me wedding dress shopping?"

I guess the concept is happy -- the public urging for our world's policy makers to make cancer a top priority -- but the fact that becomes all too apparent on this World Cancer Day is quite sobering. More than seven million people die from cancer and close to 11 million new cases are diagnosed worldwide each year. In 2006, cancer killed more people than AIDS, malaria, and tuberculosis combined.

So today is both happy and sad. But for now, let's focus on the happy.

The Geneva-based International Union Against Cancer (UICC) and member organizations in 86 countries are launching a five-year campaign to impart life lessons to children so they can prevent cancer later in life. Parents are critical in this campaign and must take an active role in teaching their children techniques for saving their lives.

Forty-three percent of cancer cases can be prevented through healthy lifestyles that begin in childhood. The World Cancer Campaign slogan -- Today's Children, Tomorrow's World -- underscores the possibility that a concerted effort among world leaders, parents, and their children can make a real difference through four key actions -- providing a smoke-free environment for children; ensuring children keep physically active, eat a healthy diet, and avoid obesity; educating children about vaccines for virus-related liver and cervical cancers; and limiting children's exposure to the sun.

Former First Lady Barbara Bush, Her Royal Highness Lalla Slama of Morocco, Nigerian President Olusegun Obasanjo, and tennis star Steffi Graf are some of the powerful voices powering this campaign that UICC president Dr. Franco Cavalli says can save so many lives if embraced by those at the highest decision-making levels.

"Complacency and inaction on the part of world community will effectively contribute to more than 10 million deaths every year by 2020," he said.

Today marks the beginning of National Breast Cancer Awareness Month. And today, I realize how aware I am of breast cancer -- how much more aware I am than ever before, compliments of a personal encounter with a disease that snuck up on me with no warning and thrust me into a two-year battle that physically, has just ended. Emotionally, the trek continues. But it's not horrible and it's not disabling -- anymore. On most days, it's enlightening, empowering, strengthening.

I think it's the brush with mortality that woke me up to the privileged life I live. Cancer allows me to wake in the morning feeling alive. It allows me to fall asleep at night feeling thankful. And every day, I am totally, completely, acutely aware of how absolutely lucky I am to be living.

There was a time when October was nothing more than another month to me -- a month that stood out only for the onset of autumn and falling leaves and halloween and trick-or-treat. Now I know October for Breast Cancer Awareness Month -- the month belonging to millions of women living with breast cancer and the millions who need to prepare for a possible breast cancer strike. It's a powerful month, jam-packed with events and activities and promotions and media attention. It's a sad month, marking the loss of life for so many who could not conquer an evil disease. It's a happy month, symbolic of life that goes on despite this same evil disease. It's a month that allows me a lifetime membership. A month that will always be on my radar. A month I can call my own -- a month I am proud to call my own.

If I could go back in time, I would not repeat my journey with breast cancer. I would choose a different path -- one free of disease and treatment and the fear that comes with it all. I would choose the route where my children would never hear me say, "mommy has cancer." The route where there would be less worry about dying, less worry about how my kids would do without me, less worry about how all my loose ends would be tied up without me here to tie them. I would choose another direction in a heartbeat. But there are some things I do treasure about my trip down breast cancer lane -- some things I do not wish to give back, even if given the chance to choose a different path. They are the hidden treasures I discovered along the way, in the midst of a harrowing, sometimes horrendous battle. There are many treasures that have come my way -- and I'm sure there are more to come. Here are seven of my valuable finds.