The October Project Conclusion

I am meant to tell people about their food.

It’s been nearly two weeks since the end of October. It seemed like The October Project ended some 10 days before the close of the month, what with my not posting here since Day 20. But that wasn’t the case. I may have gone dark here, but I was building on some light in the real world.

While I took October as a sabbatical, I actually spent the last week on vacation. Like, a real vacation. It was the first time totally away away from my everyday responsibilities in over 2.5 years. And honestly, the only way to be really away is to be out of the country, out of (affordable) cell service range and with the dogs in the care of a good friend. I made sure to check all those boxes as I allowed a jet plane to carry me away.

I did take my computer on my journey, as I was still following my five-chapters-per-week program. It just so happened that the day I had scheduled myself to write a chapter about homemade Oreo cookies, I had participated in a modern rendition of a Mayan cacao ceremony.

Below is a portion of a chapter I wrote right after that ceremony.

“Women have been generalized in our society to love chocolate. We all supposedly love chocolate madly and deeply. Those commercials for Ghiradelli Chocolates featuring a working woman pulling a caramel-filled chocolate square from a secret stash in a desk drawer? Those t-shirts that say “Love and Chocolate” or “You can’t make everyone happy, you’re not chocolate”? Wine and chocolate nights for single gals or the yoga and chocolate tastings—all of it marketed for women.

“I literally just now came out of a cacao ceremony held along the banks of Lake Atitlan in Guatemala. This is the Mayan home of cacao. Millennia ago, all around this lake, Mayans traded in cacao along with all sorts of other goods. Cacao was and is again becoming revered for its energetics—medicinal and otherwise—here and beyond.

“Cacao is not chocolate. And while I do enjoy a piece of dark chocolate flaked with sea salt or laced with the taste of orange, cacao is something I can get behind.

“What am I doing here in San Marcos La Laguna at a cacao retreat? I’m here for the yoga, not necessarily the hippy dippiness of the community. But what came to me after the ceremonial sipping of the cacao—as we were guided through meditation on our beingness on this earthly plane—is that I am to tell people about their food. What that means, I’m not really sure. I am a communicator. I am a writer of stories. Am I the next gen of Michael Pollan and his method of writing about food? Not at all. He’s got that book form covered. Food bloggging? I’ve done my version that, too. I’m not a chef and others are way more qualified to share food preparations.

“So, what form may my information sharing take? Good question.

“I’m not a long-form research writer. I’m a sharer of information. I want to share with people where their food comes from, the people involved with its production, the future of their food and its impact on the planet. All in short form. Having that information is important so people can make informed decisions about what they take into their bodies. And it’s important to the planet, so that we as individuals can organize and make informed decisions about how their simple need to eat has not-so-simple implications for the world in which we live.

“I full-on agree with Michael Pollan: Eat food, not too much, mostly plants. Let’s do that. Let’s learn more about that food we’re eating and how it arrived at our markets and on our plates. Tell you what—I’ll help you figure it out.”

Simple, right?

I want to thank everyone who made The October Project a goal, and then a goal acheived. I wrote the first draft of a memoir. I ran a 5k for the first time in years. I created this October Project community. And I realized a path forward after being confused for years, decades even, about my contributions to the world. In some way, shape or form, it’s about food and the people who dedicate their lives to creating it.

Thank you, one and all, for being on this journey with me. You are each and every one a blessing.