DreadlockNomad: "If not for the last minute, nothing would get done."

April 27th: Date of Departure.

I made the decision to bring my final paper/ agricultural research project to reality February 27th - except without the help of grants as originally written. I purchased my ticket to Toronto on March 3rd. I figured it would be nice to go back to the city I love and visit people before heading out for a few years. I sat down and counted the number of days until my departure scheduled for April 27 . The checklist of items to do before then seemed relatively manageable with proper planning. After all, I am an experienced Project Manager - and since this is my life, it should be easier than managing people and tasks in a professional environment.
Not so much.
After making a list of tasks to prepare for this trip and tools needed during this trip, I decided on an online registry that could be linked easily into FaceBook. I created a Craigslist ad for the moving sale and put out the word to my immediate social circle of my project, my plan and my last day.

I started sifting through the boxes I hastily packed nearly a year ago after leaving my ex-husband. This was the first task I under-estimated. I had no idea it would take so long for me to make a decision on what to keep, what to give away, what to throw out, what to sell. Storage was not an option. No where to storage it, no money to pay for it and no interest in returning to retrieve it.

The second task was figuring out how many days I needed to dedicate to these tasks of sorting, compiling, delivering, selling, packing and re-packing. I made the mistake of thinking it was possible to maintain my current schedule, de-materialize my life and pack pertinent items into a 6000 cu.in backpack, a smaller day pack and a carry-on sized duffel bag AND still try to take on a few selected gigs for extra cash for the trip. Not at all wise.

6 hours before I planned to be on the Blue Line en route to O'Hare, I was wondering around on State street desperately seeking a small duffel bag to fit the books I couldnt cram into my giant backpack or smaller day pack. After 4 stores and 2 hours travel time via public transport from Garfield Park to the Loop - I still have to find homes for the remaining items that didn't fall into any category of: keep it, ship it, pitch it, sell it or donate it piles -AND- clean the apartment as well as say my good-byes to the landlord and return the keys.

In hindsight, this whole process would've been MUCH easier if I had good friends present to join me in the sorting and pitching process. When people have no emotional or sentimental attachment to possessions, it makes it that much easier to get rid of it. Somehow, I feel parting with most of what I owned would have been much easier, faster and efficient with friends present.

I had one friend in particular, who I aptly nicknamed, 'Pixie'. She has been ever-present during major times of need. Just like an angel during my time of need, she came by and helped me stay on schedule, through stuff out, pack stuff up, and clean my apartment - then whisked me off to the blue line. She was the only one there - while others who've called themselves my friends, said they'd show up at different times throughout the whole de-materializing and didn't. I had no time to track them down or follow up to ask why. Selfishness and flakiness couldn't make it on to my radar when I had so much left to do.

I left for the train having to ask my landlord to hold boxes for me that I intended to send to Canada to one of my best friends houses and one to Barbados for my cousin full of gifts, etc - but I ran out of time AND money to ship any of it.
I was officially an hour passed where my agenda had me on the train to O'Hare and Pixie is whisking me down the street to the blue line. As she pulls in front of the station, I leap out, strap up my giant backpack, grab my rolling day pack and swing my new duffel bag over my shoulder. I thank my dear friend for helping me pull off the impossible (again) and I am hauling ass down the ramp towards O'Hare bound train.
I am too exhausted to pay much attention to the stares I'm getting. But I could only imagine the sight of me with all these bags strapped to every available piece of my torso and limps. I finally get on the train and sit. Let out a deep sigh of relief and take a mental inventory of all I'm taking with me. I have my clothing and first aid in one pack, my electronics and notes in another and finally my books and reference stuff in the duffel bag. Then it hits me - I forgot my culinary and horticulture measurement tools in a suitcase carry-on in Pixie's car.
Damn it.
If I go back, I miss the plane.
It's too large/heavy to ship and I don't have the money for it.
$1500 in knives and $50 in measurement and other culinary tools. There is nothing I can think to do at the point, I have to stay focused. Relax for now and focus on getting on that plane.

Next, meet Danny B for drinks at the airport.
My sweet friend Daniel thought it would be sad for me to go to the airport alone, especially for such a big deal. So he skipped a class to see me off.
We had a half-baked plan to meet on the train. I would get on at my stop (Kedzie-Homan) and call him to let him know I boarded. He lived close enough to the Blue line that he could leave his house and get there before my train arrived at this station. The problem was I was supposed to be on the last train car, or count the number of cars I was from the front. Whoops.
In all my haste to make that train, racing down that ramp with all my packed weight, as soon as I saw the train and I heard the signal indicating "the doors are closing" - made the leap onto car with the doors closing a split second behind me.
I forgot to count the cars.

Again, I'm sure it was quite the sight for people to watch in wonder what the hell I was doing with all this luggage, running to the door every time the train stopped and doors open, me waving my arms wildly at Daniel who would leave one car and run up to the next at every stop. Eventually we were together on the same car and we made it to the airport.

At check-in, I weighed my bags individually. My massive pack was 46.7 lbs, my day pack was 42.3 lbs and my duffel bag was 33lbs. Daniel pointed out that I've been carrying over 100lbs on my person. I didn't care - I was more excited that I didn't have to pay overage for weight because I SWORE that huge backpack had to be about 72lbs.

Off to drinks, after borrowing one of those airport issued luggage carts, we rolled it and my two remaining carry-ons across the front lawn of the Hilton. We laughed at how ridiculous we must have looked doing so. We went in - found ourselves a quiet table in the corner and drank Greyhounds and Rum beverages. Since we seemed to have so much time on our hands (1.25 minutes) before I should go back and wait to board - we ordered food. Amazing how multiple vodka and rum-beverages make time fly. Before we knew it, what seemed like 25 minutes later - we were begging for the bill so I could run to the security gate because the plane was schedule to depart in 25 minutes. Daniel gave me a huge hug and bid me farewell, horrified that I was going to miss the last plane to Toronto and wouldn't be able to leave. I was too distracted at how touching it was to have someone value me and what I'm doing enough to sacrifice the time out of their day to be present. I had no idea how close we were cutting it until after I got out of the security section to see the plane is leaving in 7 minutes. Of course, the gate that I needed was literally 15 gates down the long corridor.
When I reach the gate, I saw the check-in airline dude slipping the lock on the door to the plane and brushing his hands in the universal sign of having been satisfied he completed a task. When he turns around and sees me standing and panting behind him - I couldn't figure out if I had just scared the shit out of him or if it was the look of a man to just realized he locked his keys in the car.
I ask, "Is that bad?" Referring to the fact he just engaged 3 locks on the door to where I was supposed to be.
He says, "I think its too late."
I say while looking him sternly in the eye, "Wrong answer - please check."
He worked quickly to disengage the latches and screams into a walkie that there is one more.

I get on the plane.
I can't remember if the person sitting beside me was male or female, young or old.
I couldn't tell you the ethnicity of the person or if there was anyone sitting beside me at all.

My last thoughts sitting on this plane on my way out of Chicago, that the last 3.5 weeks of sleeping 2-3 hours per night, working extra hours, taking on new clients and obsessing over every last detail was to get to this moment. I made it.
I was so grateful and so beyond exhausted - I was unconscious before the wheels of the plane left the runway.

Now I have permission to dream.

SunshinesBest.com has been HACKED!!!

To anyone who has either Googled my site to look me up -or- has visited regularly to find more information about me or what I do - I am sorry to report the site has been hacked by someone who has nothing better to do with their time.

I've already left for my trip and with all that's going on - imagine my dismay to have learned that my website was gone. I worked on it for hours to see if I could figure out how to repair or save it with the wonderful and patient techs at GoDaddy.
Alas, it wasn't merely ONE file affected...it was the entire database.

I had no choice but to take the site down, until further notice.

In the meantime, I have my blogs.
This one: itismyrealname.INFO
and the blog that will contain details of my research project: DreadlockNomad.INFO.

I am in Toronto now. I've been here nearly a week, so the research project hasn't technically begun but I have been collecting tid bits to share of why I love Toronto so much and why I call it home.

More to come...

Gluten Free? Wheat free? Visiting Chicago?

This is by no means a complete list.
I just haven't gone out as much as I'd like because I spend most of my time working and traveling. But, in the time I've spent in this city - I have met some really kick ass people and eaten some tasty gluten free yummies.

Someone, who is suitably named, but shall remain nameless *wink* sent me a message a few hours ago asking about places to check out in Chicago when she comes into town.
So - here is it - the start of a living list of the Chicagoland GF noteworthy.

My suggested resources for Chicago are as follows:
* Lou Malnati's - My favourite GF Pizza in Chicago, if not the US. NOT for vegetarians or those watching their waistlines. The crust is made of sausage...yeah. Awesome.
>>> http://www.loumalnatis.com/

* Marcello's & Sons - Another awesome GF pizza spot in Chicago (scroll down to read GF options) >>> https://marcellos-northave.foodtecsolutions.com:9443/

* Bruce Zarlengo is passionate and adorable - as well as a restaurant reviewer for Celiac Sprue Association (CSA). You can get his reviews if you are a member (I think) ...http://csagc.park-ridge.il.us/restaurantlist.html

* I LOVE THIS CHICK! This woman is pure love, my favourite GF/Special Diet resource in all of Chicago. Lisa, of Lisa Cooks Allergen Free, is as beautiful in spirit as she is knowledgeable. She also hosts regular gourmet dinners showcasing restaurants that cater to "us". >>>http://lisacooksallergenfree.com/

* Jen Cafferty, founder of the Gluten Free Expo >>> http://gfreelife.com/

Let me know if there someplace you've found that is also worthy of note. Spread the word!!! It helps EVERYONE!

*smootches*
:s:

Bold, brilliant, beautiful child...Listen.

S.A.D. (Standard American Diet) = Bullshit. Find another way to sustain your life.

The Standard American Diet doesn't work.

Diet: from L. diaeta "prescribed way of life," from Gk. diaita, originally "way of life, regimen, dwelling," from diaitasthai "lead one's life,"...
(source: Online Etymology Dictionary)


Question: Why?
Sunshine's response:
There is no such thing as a 'standard' American. What's sad is that this crap is peddled around the world have countless effects on human societies in more ways than one.

Question: What are a few examples of what constitutes the standard American diet?
Sunshine's response:
Highly processed foods that cannot be found in nature in its completely refined and marketed state.
i.e.) Granulated white sugar, soda, conventional cold cuts, hot dogs, processed cheese products, chicken nuggets, pre-sliced, soft, sweet, bright white sandwich bread, candy and scores of other mass produced food, saturated with unnatural, non-beneficial additives, preservatives to benefit a prolonged shelf life to feed an often overfed nation more and quickly.

Question: What is the difference between the 'Standard American Diet' (a.k.a. 'Feed') and food.
Sunshine's response: The difference is knowing the difference between Food and Feed

Food, as in REAL food goes bad. It will expire.
Food, grows. Plant or animal.
Food, nourishes the human body by providing what it cant create by itself.
Food can be found in nature, in whole or its ingredient form and can be consumed raw, cooked or reasonably prepared without excessive processing or commercial refining.

Feed, was created for the benefit of mass-production, consumerism and prolonged shelf-live with the end result of making more and saving more money.
Feed, serves immediate satisfaction but leaves the nutritional needs unmet - body requires more.

QUOTE: Michael Pollen says, "if your great/grandmother wouldn't recognize it - don't buy it/don't eat."

Question: If this is all you know, how do I work my way around it?

Sunshine's response:
First, know your food. It goes into your mouth.

If you suspect that a food or group of foods makes you feel unwell - I would suggested evaluating your diet to see what you consume more than other.

Should your goal be to eat healthier - start reading the labels on the store bought products. If you don't know what it is, or where it comes from, how it's made - don't eat it until you can do some research. In many cases, once you know what it is and think about the effect it may have on your long term or short term health - you might look at what you consume a little differently.

I was successful in identifying what foods work for me and what don't with the assistance and guidance of a Naturopath after months of inaccurate diagnosis from doctors.
The method instrumental to through the employing T.E.D. (The Elimination Diet).
Basic menu for 14 days, recording how I felt through out the day for each of the 14 days.
This menu included:
* Brown or Basmati Rice
* Kidney beans, Black Beans or Garbanzo/Chick peas
* Lean protein: chicken breast, salmon or halibut, haddock (NO TOFU)
* Any dark leafy greens, lettuce secondary
* Any citrus, Lemon, lime and grapefruit
* Any herbs, spices, salt or pepper (not pepper sauce, bouillon cubes, spice mix packets)
* Olive oil, vinegars
* Sweetener: honey, agave nectar (absolutely no refined sugar)
* Grill, Roast or bake, Stir fry or pan fry with little oil

After the 14 day period of this sort of this lifestyle which restricts your body consumption of the essentials, re-integrate one of the common food allergens or suspected food items ONE per 10 days. Keeping notes or a journal is an important part of this diet because you'll need to track changes. Record anything and everything - even if you feel it may be irrelevant. Note things like headaches, itchiness, irritability, lethargy, constipation, bloating, frequency (or infrequency) of rest room visits, cold sores, hiccups, acne break outs, stomach aches, sniffles, congestion to the head or chest, lethargy, mood changes, dry mouth, thirst, cravings, sore muscles, muscle spasms, changes to your skin. You never know what can be symptom until you abstain then reintroduce the food item responsible..

Take notes of how you feel after you eat the re-introduced food. After you've reintroduced all possible trouble items review your journal and determine if you felt better without certain foods in your diet.

RESOURCE: The ALCAT Laboratories have a test checking against over 250 food items from around the world and they grade you on what food items you should avoid based on mild, medium or high reactivity.

POWER of RECOGNITION and CHANGE
* Keep a humble mind: You don't know now, what you don't know. This means there is an opportunity present...a gift.
* Knowing will make the difference: Support of web, books, internet, friends, co-workers, meet-up groups
* It often takes small steps to successfully integrate a new habit.
* When cooking and eating: Remember moderation, variety and mindfulness.
* Try any food (especially if it's one you don't like) prepared in different ways. (raw, cooked-boil, marinade, steam, oven roast, grill, paired with something that benefits or changes the flavour or texture, stuff it inside something, wrap it outside of something.)

More

Eat more dark leafy greens. (2nd runner up is BEANS!)
Understand how proteins, carbohydrates (fiber), fats, sugar, salt work in the body.know the rules of saiety: (1) fiber (2) water (3) protein
Eat produce that grows within THAT season.
Be mindful of quality AND quantity. How MUCH you are eating versus what you are burning and storing during the day is a best practice for maintaining a healthy lifestyle and more balanced with nature.
Drink 2 liters/2 quarts of water per day. Lemon in your water at waking and before bed can benefit your intestinal and overall health.
Challenge yourself to walk 30-60 minutes 5 days per week, minimum.

QUOTE: Dawn Jackson Blatner, my health and wellness mentor and author of 'The Flexitarian Diet', says:
30 minutes of exercise for disease prevention
60 minutes of exercise good for weight maintenance
90 minutes of exercise good for weight loss

Less

Avoid Refined Sugars- instead try raw honey, agave nectar, maple sugar, date sugar.
Minimize Alcohol - break down the word "Intoxicant" - toxic is the root because it is a diuretic and deprives the body of oxygen. Try cooking with teas, fruit juices, molasses vinegar (ie. Pomegranate, banana)
* Avoid fats that are solid at room temperature, try avocado oil, grapeseed (both flavourless) oils for high smoke point, peanut oil. coconut oil, sesame oils have a nice flavour, olive oil is great for raw applications, flaxseed oil for butter, nutritional yeast for a cheese substitute. (A student in one of my classes shared that tip with me! - thx xo)
* Be mindful of your eating schedule and what it is you are consuming when. This can help you take better control of the quality of foods you eat, track if you are eating out of boredom or an emotional trigger and identify when you are practicing excessive snacking.

Cooking/Food Prep methods to master

Living food/Raw diet: Try NOT cooking. If its a vegetable, chances are that can be consumed without heat preparation, try it. (NOTE: there are few exceptions, like Cassava, so do your research before hand.)
Stir fry: High heat, warm through a food without cooking cooking it through (i.e. over-cooking veggies). Do be sure to cook meat, poultry, seafood completely before stir-frying your veggies and starches.
Steam: Fast, no oil. Awesome and make for beautiful, fresh looking presentation.
Pressure cookers: ROCK! Worth the investment.

A Personal Note: Forms of freedom

I just sold 90% of what I own less than 14 days ago.
I had no idea how much shit I've collected over the years. Anyone can say that, I suppose. But I mean it. Let's go back.

I have drawn, sketched and painted since before I knew myself. My earliest recollection of my acknowledgment of any artistic ability was in foster care.
I was about 7 or 8. My memories include being moved and inspired to draw a glass of water in a window sill, the hunt for blank paper which I found and liberated from the back of an encyclopaedia, and a pencil with accessible lead. All of the old school No.2 pencils in the house seemed have broken lead and of course, there was no sharpener anywhere to be found. I would pick the wood away from the tip in tiny pieces where the lead had previously been until it was exposed a millimeter or two. I would proceed to the front porch to 'sharpen' the pencil using the edge of the step to smooth and expose more of the lead until I could get enough to draw.
Mission accomplished. Almost.
The eraser on these much coveted found objects would: (a) have the eraser bitten off (b) have been used until it was below the metal or had been pulled out completely and would only be discovered once I tried to erase something and had holes torn in the paper. That sucked. OR (c) have been so old or misused to the point it was greasy and/or hard - which left unsightly streaks that looked like skid marks on my budding masterpiece.
After all of this work, which in my mind back then could be equated to the labour of a grand harvest at the end of a long growing season. The pay off was worth it.
I could sit with the rewards of my hunt and finally draw a picture. Self sufficiency is a type of freedom.

I'm confident, as a child, I drew many pictures which I would show to the nearest adult, secretly dying for their approval and shock reactions of pride and wonder. They would tilt their heads, with plastic smiles and offer half-sincere, half-patronizing compliments on my abilities as an artist. Not this time, this one, this portrait, on this day would make ME proud. I could feel it.
I wouldn't care what anyone thought. Not this time. This was the first time I attempted to draw something from life.
As I started drawing, I recall my hands moving with a confidence and knowledge that was beyond me. I seemed to know what to do without ACTUALLY knowing what I was doing. There were challenges that I came across that I had trouble executing, like how to represent light and shadow. How to represent foreground, middle-ground and background. How to create shade and the effect of fading light?
The answers came in the form of a man called, Dad. I believe he came for his routine visit while I was working on this piece. I remember being frustrated with my inability to recreate on paper what I saw in the window. One of a half dozen positive memories I have of my father, he took me onto his lap and showed me what began the development of an addiction, my talent, my best friend intangible, what I call 'my first love', creating art. Dad showed me how to shade, how to fade, how draw different forms of edges, how to render light, how to be efficient with my movements and effort (shading with my fingers and how to erase). Talent recognized, skills developing, knowledge acquired.
This was and is, a form of freedom.

Armed with my new knowledge, I finished this piece. And in my 8 year old mind - it was an exact, photographic rendering sketched by my very own hand. I sat a patiently represented light and shadow of sunlight through water. I mindfully captured every detail of the droplets and how they glowed from behind, inside and throughout. To me this was beautiful and drawing it was the only way I could keep it.
I carefully saved this picture to show my Dad when he came to the home for another one of his visits and I also wanted to send it framed to my mom. It was suggested that I hold on to it until my next visit with her. I don't remember how long it was before my social worker took me up to Bedford Hills for our visit - but I do remember looking at that picture everyday.

I remember going through all of the check points, getting searched and scanned by the guards. Some would compliment my masterpiece. I'd politely smile, feeling this time their words didn't matter. I wasn't there for their feedback.
I walked up the hill and sat waiting in the waiting room with so much anticipation I could barely stand it.

When Mom came out, we did our normal exchange of hugs, kisses and greetings and before asses could hit seats, I shoved my perfectly sketched glass of water into her hands. My mother sat and stared so a few moments. I couldn't breathe. I wanted her to say something, anything. She finally let out a sigh and showed it to my social worker. If there was ever a genuine reaction witnessed through the eyes of a child, it was this one. My mother was so amazed and seemed to be shocked silent.
Then words left her lips that played through my life at different points over and over again and brought a new clarity every time I thought about it. My mother told me that this work was beyond good, it was absolutely wonderful and it shows that I have inherited my fathers talent. At this moment, two truths were revealed to me.
#1) Talent was a new word to my 8 year old consciousness. The fact anyone had anything to say to me that was remotely positive had my complete attention and sometimes, even affection. #2) Which had the most impact - was that I have something from one of my parents. I was connected to someone. Words cannot express how hearing those words and that realization made me feel. I can only speculate and regurgitate all of the psycho-babble I've heard over the years about the 'why' it still gives me a wave of chills and emotion to this day. But whatever, it moved me.
Knowing this somehow, gave me a type of freedom.

My relationship with my visual art has been like a long-term relationship. A love that I can't deny even when out-of-sight. When we get back together, it's almost like we never parted - but better. Then life gets in the way and we lose touch again. I think learning to take breaks and discover and develop other interests was paramount to my development. This was a type of freedom.

I grew up (sort of). I began a career. As an ever-curious, highly ambitious person I worked hard and earned an income which matched my efforts. This was a major feat and far cry to the lifestyle I had as a child considering growing up in foster care and such. I could now afford what I wanted and needed. I bought ridiculous art supplies and indulged in my love of stationary to a near obscene degree. I've always very practical but also believe money was means. This was a type of freedom.

I followed through with exploring what could be done with my visual art on a deeper level. I did the art shows and galleries in the US and Canada. Enjoyed some media attention in Toronto and Seattle. Participated in charity events and even had my work printed on calendars and greeting cards. Two of my best memories associated with this period of my life was: (1) having someone run by my booth at an art fair in Toronto and pass a number of prints laid out on my table. He stopped short of passing me and doubled back to take a closer look at some of my work. He asked if this work was by an artist, who's name he struggled to remember for a few and then recalled. "Is this by 'Sunshine'?", he said still looking down, sifting through prints. "I've seen her work before but never met her, she's one of my favourite artists." I was shocked silent (trust me, that's rare) and before I could say thank you or introduce myself, he said, "I've gotta go - I've got this food for someone over there and she's going to kill me." And he disappeared. I was numb. (2) Was in Seattle. I had art work hanging in a sassy, hip, expensive clothing boutique on First Avenue. I became friends with one of the people who ran the shop. She called me at my corporate gig one day to tell me that a woman was standing in front of her who came into the shop to browse. This woman looked up and saw my work on the wall and exclaimed, "Oh my god, is this artist from Toronto?!! I was at one of her shows! I LOVE her work!" Awesome. I dabbled in photography a bit and bought more stuff to support that habit. I even traveled a fair amount and acquired even more stuff in addition to knowledge.
This whole experience was a type of freedom from the corporate life I was living at the time. Wanting to do something that offers someone something that is of value to them, something small but would make them smile or feel good. Creating art freed me from my usual head space, sharing art made me feel positively connected to others. This was a type of freedom in a society where so much is private, guarded and 'safe'.

Before moving to Seattle, but after 4 or so years of selling cars in Thornhill, Ontario - I discovered a need for a change, growth into a new area. I recognized my on-again off-again pattern with my art. I wanted to seek out new creative avenues, a different form of expression. Enter culinary arts. I saw value in learning to do more that boil, bake and fry foods. If I could go to a restaurant and be wowed to the tune of $28 a plate, I too can learn to do the same. I found part-time classes in Toronto and the rest is history. A new passion discovered, a new addiction ignited. Learning techniques and ways to be efficient, natural treatments and preparation methods of food that could effect texture, flavour and appearance all completely absorbed me. Preparing food with creativity, mindfulness and love spoke to me on so many levels. I could prepare something that people will put into their mouths and make them happy and healthy. How freaking awesome is THAT?!! I was still in the IT industry as either as a Project Manager and my income allowed me to indulge completely in acquiring all practical tools and devices a cook would love. More and more stuff accumulates. The ability to cook well, while being mindful of the many resources and options available to me is a form of freedom. Freedom from dependency on others to feed me and freedom from dull, boring food.

So, fast forward to Chicago. I met someone in Seattle. We got married. He followed me to Toronto. I followed him to back to his home here in Chicago. After nearly 5 years of a trying marriage, filled with opportunities of introspection, growth, and self-discovery. I walked away from the marriage. Sometimes the most clarity comes from the most painful or extreme experiences. Having my skull fractured in two places at the hands of my husband brought that clarity to me. Leaving a negative situation because you love yourself enough to preserve your life is a form of freedom.

Since leaving him, it would be an act of minimalism to refer to my life as a struggle. I know I've come along way since October 2008. But I could not have foreseen the strength and fearlessness I have found since then. A large part of that is the healing that came from furthering my education. Thank you to the Chicago Botanic Garden for the Windy City Harvest program, where I earned an in-depth education in Sustainable Urban Agriculture and Horticulture. I believe this saved my life when I felt I hit rock bottom. Education is a form of freedom.

The final project for this program asked students to detail from beginning to end a way to utilize this knowledge to benefit their community. Some students focused locally, others had plans of relocation to other cities or states and incorporated that into their projects. My mid-term project detailed how to help Garfield Park and solutions for food deserts in the West side of Chicago. Since I consider the earth and its inhabitants my community - I focused on developing the idea of the Global Community Knowledge Project. In short, as a member of WWOOF and HelpX, I would provide farm labour in exchange for accommodation and food. During my stay at each site, I would research and record details related to local and traditional sustainable agriculture techniques. The locations of my selected sites would be places where there is still indigenous culture and traditions are present and employed. While here, I would collect data on fertilization, IPM (Integrated Pest Management), irrigation, post-harvest handling and storage/preservation techniques. I would record information related to foods I discover along the way and recipes. Basically, the study of food from the farm to the fork in cultures around the world. Some information would be shared publicly via blogs, workshops and classes.
The collection of records from my trip would be published via book and possibly a documentary. After the increasing and steady decline of the economy and the effects that it has had on my business - I decided to go ahead and make this project a reality without grants and follow through with self-funded and with the support of friends. Why wait? Following through with a dream, without fear, hesitation or doubt is a form of freedom.

I leave April 27, 2010. I head back home for a few days then I'm off to start my research adventure. I've got a one-way ticket booked and my trip begins in Barbados.
This is why I've sold nearly everything I own. Liberating ones self of material possessions is a form of freedom.

Writing honestly, communicating openly, even when it's hard to do is another form of freedom.

For more information about the Global Community Knowledge Project, if you wish to track me through my blog or wish to show support to help me get around from place to place via donation, visit: http://globalcommunityknowledgeproject.blogspot.com/ -OR- www.DreadlockNomad.INFO.

Thanks for reading.
:s:

Special Diet Solutions: Starting with your heart, mind to find your way

I was born of people who come from the Caribbean and South America. I was raised in foster care between the US and Canada - with and by people from all over the world: Africans, Italians, Jews, Germans, and others. As I grew older, I traveled and absorbed knowledge from the people of other cultures and varied ethnicities. This contributes to who I am and how I see the world. This is the foundation of my perspectives in life, from relationship with food to my relationships with people. We are all connected. We share emotions and joys. We breathe, we sleep, we eat, we endure challenges and hardships, we have questions. I believe there are answers to many of our questions or concerns - we should look into each other to find them.

When I was diagnosed with Celiac Sprue, I felt as most do once told that something they love is not good for them. A range of emotions are experienced and thoughts race through your mind - it can be traumatic. As an adult it can be overwhelming, imagine being a child having to cope with living with food allergies or intolerances, something you understand even less. Stages that I've experienced and people who have shared with me during my travels and classes are as follows:

* Shock ("No, it can't be true - what will I eat?)
* Denial ("They *doctors* may be wrong, 2nd opinion is in order")
* Guilt ("What did I do to cause this? Did I eat to much ___?")
* Anger ("What the hell? Why does EVERYTHING seem to have ____ (insert food to be avoided here)
* Bargaining ("Maybe if I only eat a little...maybe if I only buy organic versions...maybe if I pray...)
* Depression,  ("I don't know what to do, what to eat, I'm too scared to try new things, I've tried new foods/ingredients suggested to me or things I've found and they don't taste good/come out right...)
* Reflection  ("I remember when I ate these things, I used to be so good at making this, I miss this so much)

* Loneliness ("No one understands me - what it is like for me, my friends / my family don't "get it"...)

And for some, this is where they remain for weeks, months or years after diagnosis.

"Experience is not what happens to you; it is what you do with what happens to you". Aldous Huxley

Food for thought:
     1. Chances are some culture, somewhere, doesn't eat that (what ever it is that YOU are no longer unable to consume)- and they thrive.
     2. At some point everything was new to you. You had no experience with it.
     3. Just because it's new to you, doesn't mean you won't like it.
     4. Look for supportive networks. Whether they exist within your current social circles or not.   You'll be amazed what resources are out there when you take the time investigate what exist.
    5. Believe solutions exists, take action on the belief that there ARE answers, maintain a sense of humour and keep at it. There is always an opportunity to learn something new.

Then you will see changes begin...

* Upward and Onward - You might not notice it at first. You'll start feeling a little better, a little more organized, physically you'll feel a bit better and see things a little differently.

* Acceptance and Hope - Learning to adapt, accept and work through your reality takes time. Once you stop on occasion and take measure of your progress, you'll recognize your accomplishments and see your potential. Acceptance does NOT = skipping down the street, giggling with delight  and sheer happiness. You will be stronger and more knowledgeable than before you started and feel more confident moving forward.

Should this look familiar to you - it's because these are the stages of loss and grieving. Depending on who you talk to - these may vary - but this is the feelings associated with loss are shared by many no matter the context. The contexts and causes of heartache and pain are as numerous as the paths to healing. Through reflection alone or support from others. Whether special diet needs, death, divorce, violence, abuse, loss of any kind - find a path towards healing that works for you and move forward.


You are the only one who can start the process to get you where you want to be - and you are worth the effort of learning, growing and healing.