It’s a strange feeling to bare one’s soul publicly — to share life’s hardest chapters rather than the highlights: music, books, teaching, travel, friendship.

But here I am.

In 2021, I was diagnosed with cancer. The treatment was rough, but successful — and I’m deeply grateful for that. Since then, however, life has become even more complicated. In the span of just a few years, I lost my mother, father, sister, uncle, and stepfather. My only remaining sibling is now battling cancer, as is a beloved uncle. The family home is gone. There’s no longer a safety net — emotional or otherwise.

Amidst this grief and upheaval, I’ve developed a rare, non-contagious lung infection. The only available treatment in Western medicine comes with brutal side effects — organ damage, loss of vision or hearing, extreme nausea. Even doctors hesitate to prescribe it; my pulmonologist described it as “hell.”

Meanwhile, I’m also experiencing chemical and fragrance-triggered asthma attacks that leave me barely able to breathe or stand. I live alone, and there have been moments I’ve been truly afraid.

I’ve turned to other kinds of healing — acupuncture, Chinese herbs, Ayurvedic treatment, homeopathy, nutritional support — all out-of-pocket. These therapies aren’t cheap, and they’re not in my budget. But I have to try. I’m doing everything I can: walking, meditating, practicing the breathing exercises I learned through years of vocal training.

What I miss most — and fear losing — is my voice.

Singing has been at the center of my life. Some of you know me through The Moors, Trouz Bras, my teaching, writing, or my current project Devandaurae — an exploration of early Celtic vocal and instrumental traditions in sacred and cultural context. I’ve spent over a decade researching and performing this work. I still have so much I want to share. But I need to be able to breathe to sing. I need to heal.

There is no partner, no car, no family to lean on. Just me — and maybe, with your help, a way forward.

This GoFundMe is to help me cover immediate medical expenses and essential care. But I also want to build something sustainable and reciprocal. In the coming weeks, I’ll be launching a Patreon — a space where I can share music, writing, reflections, and research in return for ongoing support. It will be a way to stay connected with those who’ve walked beside me in this time — and to begin, slowly, building beauty again.

If you’re able to contribute here, or share this with someone who might, I’d be deeply grateful. Thank you for reading. Thank you for caring. And thank you, especially, for helping me hold on to music — and to hope.

With love,

Sharon