Searching for Peace in a World Full of Self-Help and Sarcoidosis

I was wandering through a bookstore last night—you know, the kind where the smell of paper and ink makes you feel smart even if you have no intention of buying anything. I walked past the new releases table and was practically avalanched by self-help books. Titles promising everything from “reclaiming your power” to “how to love your inner wombat.” I turned the corner and noticed the self-help section had exploded—books for every possible crisis, symptom, and cosmic alignment. It made me wonder… what exactly are we searching for with all this help?

Then I remembered: blogs. There are so many medical blogs out there with enough detail to make my cardiologist sweat. Every disease you can spell has a corner online. Millions of people visit them daily—not just for facts. They’re looking for something else. Sure, we might want answers. Maybe a cure. But it’s deeper than that, isn’t it? I know because I’ve been one of them.

My own blog—my little corner of the internet—began as a way to process living with sarcoidosis, heart failure, and, once upon a time, pulmonary hypertension. (Yes, it reversed. Don’t ask me how. Even my doctor shrugged like it was a cosmic glitch.) It’s not flashy, doesn’t go viral, and doesn’t have sponsored ads for $300 vitamin subscriptions. On a good day, I get 20 hits. Once, 35. That is until one random day when it suddenly exploded with 135 views. Overnight. I checked my stats like they owed me rent. Was I Freshly Pressed on WordPress? Did Oprah tweet me? Did my mom finally share it on Facebook? Nope. None of the above.

So I investigated, like a chef trying to figure out who stole his mise en place. What was different? The content? Not really. The tags? Yes. All my usual suspects were there—sarcoidosis, chronic illness, heart failure, etc.—but one stood out like glitter in soup: peace. I’d added “peace” on a whim, and suddenly people poured in, not because I wrote a medical masterpiece, but because I’d tapped into what we’re really craving.

We can scroll through endless pages of symptoms, follow every wellness influencer selling celery-green cleanses, or even hoard enough self-help books to build a fort—but at the end of the day, we want peace. Not just the absence of disease. The kind of peace that lets us breathe through every appointment, pill bottle, flare-up, and “but you don’t look sick” comment. Peace that sits with us when chronic illness becomes the third wheel in every relationship. Peace that says, “Yes, your body is chaotic, but your soul doesn’t have to be.”

And as a writer, a chef, and someone whose body treats my medical chart like a suggestion, I’ve realized my blog isn’t just about sarcoidosis or heart failure. It’s about saying: you’re not alone. You’re not dramatic. You’re not failing. And no, you don’t need to buy another self-help book today. Sometimes the most helpful thing is reading someone else wrestle with the same chaos and still find a way to laugh. (Or mutter sarcastically in the kitchen. That works too.)

So here we are—years later, still living, still hearting, still breathing the borrowed air. And that little old post with a small word like “peace”? It reminded me: we don’t need to be gurus or medical experts to give someone what they need. Just honest, flawed, and human. The peace is in the presence.

So …

If you found a slice of peace here, tell me—what are you really searching for? Drop a comment, share this with someone who needs it, or hit subscribe so you don’t miss the next messy, heartfelt rant from your favorite sarcastic chef with sarcoidosis.