Finding My Way Back: Sound, Healing & Nourishment

In 2025, my world shifted when I was diagnosed with breast cancer. What followed was one of the most challenging -- and unexpectedly transformative -- years of my life. This is a story of how I found my way back, through meditation, a vegetarian kitchen, and the simple but profound act of listening to my body. I hope some part of it speaks to you, too.

Life Has a Way of Guiding Us

Life has a beautiful, sometimes mysterious way of nudging us toward our greater purpose. While I was joyfully sharing sound baths with my regulars in the past years, I was also quietly dreaming of reaching further — recording sessions so that those who couldn't attend in person could still experience the healing power of sound. A recording may never fully replicate the magic of a live session, but I believed wholeheartedly that something is always better than nothing — and that even a ripple of healing is worth sending out into the world.

An Unexpected Chapter

Then life handed me a plot twist I never saw coming.

In March last year, I had to pause my live gong bath sessions — because my chemotherapy began. I had never imagined I would be the one to fall ill. My entire life had been devoted to nourishing others, so a diagnosis of breast cancer felt, at first, almost impossible to reconcile. And yet, there it was.

After careful reflection, and with deep consideration for my family, I chose to follow the conventional treatment path. I had my hesitations, knowing full well the weight of its side effects. But I trusted the process — and I believed it was the best decision for me at the time. I own it fully.

I planned a sabbatical, initially hoping to return to my gongs in eight months. I even shared that intention on my website. And in the meantime, I thought — why not record sound baths during treatment? I wanted to offer them freely on YouTube, so that healing could continue to flow to anyone who needed it, regardless of where they were in the world.

When the Body Speaks Louder Than Plans

As it turned out, I couldn't. And that was a lesson in itself.

The challenges were twofold. Physically, the treatment took far more from me than I had anticipated — I had deeply underestimated its toll on my overall wellbeing. Mentally, I simply didn't have the capacity to set up recording equipment or work through the technicalities. So I did the most courageous thing I could: I rested. I surrendered. I put everything on hold.

My treatment stretched beyond the original timeline, completing in January 2026 — though I was told I had achieved a complete response as early as December 2025. I had intentionally allowed extra breathing room between each phase — between chemotherapy and surgery, and between surgery and radiotherapy — because my body was asking for it, and I chose to listen. I’m grateful I did.

Listening to My Body — A Philosophy, Not Just a Practice

The chemotherapy portion of the journey was undoubtedly the hardest. I could feel my vitality being dialled down, almost like a dimmer switch slowly turning. Before beginning, I researched thoroughly and devised what I'd call a hybrid approach — one that honoured both the medical protocol and my body's own intelligence.

I kept open, honest communication with my doctors throughout. I never made changes without research or a second opinion. And yes — sometimes I made choices that weren't popular with my medical team. But I only pushed forward when my gut spoke clearly, and I always took full responsibility for those decisions. Remarkably, my doctors ultimately agreed with me in many cases, acknowledging that certain treatments or medications were precautionary, with statistically insignificant benefit for my specific situation. They supported me, and for that I am grateful.

'Listen to your body's wisdom, which expresses itself through signals of comfort and discomfort. When choosing a certain behaviour, ask your body, "How do you feel about this?"' -- Deepak Chopra, Ageless Body, Timeless Mind

My body had always been vocal. From a young age, I avoided pharmaceutical drugs where possible — even painkillers made me nauseous. To manage a headache, I'd sleep it off, supported by Chinese medicine and breathwork. So when I was given Filgrastim after my first chemo cycle and experienced palpitations severe enough to call 999, it confirmed what I already knew: my body does not take kindly to drugs. I had to choose my battles carefully.

The Numbers Behind the Journey

My chemotherapy plan was 8 cycles. Here is how it unfolded:

• After the 2nd cycle, scans showed the tumour had shrunk significantly — but my white blood cell count was too low, so the 3rd treatment was delayed by a week to allow recovery

• My body weight dropped from 48kg to 39kg

• After the 3rd cycle, both white and red blood cell counts were critically low — I required a blood transfusion before continuing

• After the 3rd cycle, I could no longer feel the lump at all

• I ultimately completed 6 cycles (rather than 8), supported by the blood transfusion, and achieved complete response

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The cancer was gone. And I believe — with every part of me — that how I cared for my body played a meaningful role in that outcome.

You Are What You Eat

Before treatment began, I researched every possible side effect of chemotherapy. The two I feared most — and felt I could actively work to prevent — were constipation and vomiting.

I experienced neither.

I attribute this, in large part, to a decision I made at the very start of treatment: I switched to a vegetarian diet. And what unfolded from that choice was nothing short of transformative.

When my body was already working so hard to process powerful drugs, my plant-based meals asked nothing extra of it. Instead, they supported it — gently, lovingly, from the inside out. I could feel my body responding with gratitude to the lightness and nourishment of every meal. My gut felt cared for. My energy, though diminished, was steadier than it might otherwise have been.

Since last year, I have learned an enormous amount — about vegetarian cooking, about nutrition, and about the profound connection between what we eat and how we heal.

During this time, I discovered a book that deeply resonated with me: The China Study by T. Colin Campbell, PhD and Thomas M. Campbell II, MD — a landmark work based on a 20-year epidemiological study in rural China, linking animal-based food consumption to chronic illnesses including heart disease, diabetes, and cancer. It advocates powerfully for a whole-food, plant-based diet — not just to prevent disease, but potentially to reverse it.

One finding that struck me personally: the book argues that genetics account for only 2–3% of total cancer risk, and that cancer development can be effectively switched on or off simply by altering the amount of animal protein consumed — regardless of genetic predisposition. As someone with a family history of breast cancer and a 15-year-old daughter, this was both sobering and deeply empowering.

Cooking With Heart — For My Daughter, and For You

I want to build something lasting from this experience. I'm planning to share my go-to vegetarian dishes — newly discovered ones, long-time favourites, and the occasional indulgent treat. Mostly Asian-inspired, because that's the heart of my kitchen. Sometimes fully vegan, sometimes with an egg — but always rooted in the spirit of plant-based nourishment. The non-negotiables? Simple. Delicious. Full of heart.

I am not a medical expert. I am not a chef. I am a sound healer, a cancer survivor, a mother, and someone who has spent the past year learning — through lived experience and voracious reading — what it truly means to nourish a body back to life.

My deepest motivation is my daughter. In two years, she'll be heading to university. I want her to carry with her a library of Mum's recipes — wholesome, easy, and genuinely delicious — so that healthy eating feels like a joy, not a chore. I want to inspire her to make choices that protect her health long before she ever needs to think about illness.

And I want to share all of this with you, too — because what heals one of us has the power to ripple outward and nourish many.

Coming Home

Early this year, I felt my energy returning — and with it, an irrepressible pull back to my gongs. In March, I was invited by London Business School to play for them. It was, in every sense, a homecoming.

I am back. The sound baths are flowing again. And I would love for you to join me.

Whether it's through the resonance of a gong, a simple vegetarian meal, or the quiet act of listening to your own body — healing is always available to us. Sometimes it just asks us to slow down long enough to receive it.

Healing is always more powerful when it’s shared. I look forward to co-creating that space with you. 

Watch This Space

I'll be posting regularly, with my recipes and thoughts.

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I'm not here as a medical authority — please always consult your healthcare professionals and do your own research. I'm simply sharing my journey, in the hope that some part of it lights a path for yours.