The truth is, this blog was supposed to have launched before the end times, I mean Covid. You know, back when we were all rubbing elbows trying to wave down a bartender, eating free meals enjoying samples at Costco, and packing ourselves into airplanes, with no hand sanitizer in sight.
In 2020 I was living large. I was going to have a real Cubano sandwich in Miami, fried fresh-caught grouper in Islamorada, and get a little drunk on oyster liquor, wine and my full and fortunate life in California. I was starting to plan a future trip to Africa that was to have included a once-in-a-lifetime safari, a memorable stay at Giraffe Manor, and a stroll on a faraway beach in Zanzibar.
I was always looking towards the next new restaurant or amazing meal, and planning some kind of trip, big or small—it didn’t matter. The important thing was that I was going somewhere—anywhere— by plane, train, or automobile, and I was living as large as my life and income would allow.
I love crowded bars, talking to strangers, and being immersed in newness. A refreshing dip into the sea of humanity is something I craved from time to time. I was adventurous and spontaneous and, now I can say, probably a little bit germy. Those were the days, eh?
A couple of things happened.
The elephant in the room is, of course, COVID-19. Life changed the third week of March 2020 (for us here in the United States anyway) squelching plans for handshakes and hugs, girls’ nights and family celebrations, not to mention crammed coach seats, food tours, squat toilets and elephants, giraffes, or whatever else I could get my dirty hands on.
Fast forward to current day, it’s obvious that we will no longer take such things for granted.
The larger, more threatening elephant was this.
In 2019 I’d stepped into a new, albeit short-lived, role as a publisher of a local food magazine to which I’d given a couple thousand hours of my life and attention. For about seven years, it was a side hustle and a passion project. It was a gateway to important conversations, cool people and memorable experiences. Coronavirus didn’t help that situation either. The result was a sudden and jarring ending to which I will simply say it didn’t work out. It remains one of my proudest accomplishments.
This blog sat patiently dormant for about a year. It had a few other clever names and there were many stops and starts. You know how it goes. Anything you want to do for yourself is always at the very bottom of the list…behind real paying work, laundry, flossing.
I never gave it life—it was too easy to drop it down my list of urgent priorities until it was, like other things, just another reason to feel like I wasn’t accomplished, or interesting, or …fill in the blank with your own favorite self-criticism word. (Imposter syndrome is real and debilitating and it’s a beast I must conquer if it kills me.)
One night, a new name came to me like a whisper in my pre-COVID slumber, when sleep was easier and deeper. There’s a saying, “when the student is ready, the teacher appears” (advice so good that it’s attributed to many people), so I guess right now feels a little like that. A few months and some enlightening “Aha moments” later, the new name now seems prophetic.
There was indeed a seminal moment which, thanks to a separation agreement, I won’t spend the time to elaborate. Suffice it to say that my lowest point became an unexpected gift. I am not the same as before. My expectations are higher. My dreams are bigger. My eyes are open and my bullshit meter got a major tune up. I am not going to shrink to fit the mold, apologize for problems I don’t own, or suffer people who take without giving.
Meet me here, at My Fork and The Road.
Food. Travel. Choices. Growth.
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