In the western world where I live, the long dark nights of December bring the light and festivities of the close of our calendar year. People honor and celebrate in many ways and meanings. It is as if we are all aboard a train that is traveling through this territory, whether we like it or not.

Despite the particular problems facing the nation or the world - and despite our personal faith or lack of it - a call for cheer falls upon us all. People at various stages of living with multiple myeloma may have their own unique experience of this time of year.

I recall this time of year a few years back when I was preparing to return home after a long hospitalization. Well-meaning friends suggested decking my apartment with an abundance of holiday adornments.

It was not what I wanted, and I had to kindly discourage their efforts. My attitude was not at all “bah humbug” or grim. I just wanted to have my full experience without distraction - the unpleasantness of feeling unwell and the joy of continuation. I did not need to pretend anything other than that.

We now reside in a consumer environment that pushes each holiday into mass consciousness earlier and more intensely - especially Christmas. We refer to “the holidays” to cover every possible ethnic version of winter festivities.

The one common denominator seems to be good will, peace, and cheer - sentiments we are in dire need of everyday.

I am especially fond of the word “cheerfulness,” a condition that is not limited to special occasions. This term has been widely used by a well-known meditation teacher (Chogyam Trungpa) as an antidote for laziness and depression.

This attitude is not a forced happiness in the face of pain and suffering. This “conditional” cheerfulness is a temporary state of mind, like pleasure and pain - something that must be revved up by organizing our world just so.

Alternatively, “unconditional” cheerfulness is a discipline of compassion and wakefulness - intentionally working with the everydayness of life as it happens.

My life happens to contain a “chronic illness” called multiple myeloma. This is my path. Remaining alive and vital despite the multiple myeloma is central to who I am now.

Cheerfulness offers a state of evenness. Highs and lows need not toss one about in a storm. The Mayan prediction was quite entertaining as 12/21/12 approached, but as most of us suspected, an end of the world scenario would have been a little too Hollywood.

None of us get off that easily. Instead, we will turn our calendars to the year 2013 and carry on with our individual stories. I wish all of you many cheerful days ahead.