Gratitude February (End of Month 2) // Getting Better at Being Alive

February seemed to fly by in a hurry. I can't believe March is already here and spring's just around the corner. It seems like yesterday that I was waking up on New Year's Day to go hiking.

At the end of my last post about my experience maintaining a Sober January, I talked briefly about how I planned to go into the month of February with a mindset of appreciation, nicknaming the month Gratitude February. It passed in a similar kind of time-lapse as Sober January, in which the first few days seemed almost stagnant until the habit came into form, and then became almost second nature.

I decided to implement gratitude into my daily practices last month because I felt like I was getting so caught up in my day-to-day existence moving toward something that I forgot how to say "thank you" for the things I already have and am.

Part of the reasoning in my decision to practice gratitude throughout the month, rather than choosing to participate in a different 30 (or, in this case, 29) day challenge is that the importance of appreciation has been a reoccurring lesson in my life. Also, I've been incredibly fortunate to meet some really amazing and successful people throughout my life, and a common thread among them, when asked about their successes, is that they practice gratitude on a regular basis. 

Being appreciative for what you have and are is an incredibly freeing and important practice in fostering a healthy mindset. How many times have you woken up on the wrong side of the bed and gone on to have a terrible day, because you're stuck dwelling on what's wrong? Think about that on the opposite end of the spectrum. What would happen if you woke up and said "thank you" for the day ahead? And at night, instead of thinking about all the stresses the day brought, what does it feel like to be appreciative of the things that went right, even if not according to plan?

That's what I wanted to find out.

It seems really simple, and it started off as such. I kept a journal for the first few days, detailing my experiences each day in an attempt to highlight the good and the lessons in them, and then meditating/thinking about an appreciation for them.

On February 1st, then, it seemed appropriate to make the following statement:

I am grateful for my growth so far, and my ability to periodically examine my behavior and adjust in accordance with my highest good.

I felt good about that statement. It seemed like an efficient mindset to have going into a month of gratefulness.

Everything was going according to plan. I was chugging along every day, making notes in my journal and remembering to say "thank you" throughout the day, and then, about a week into the month, I got my feelings hurt.

I think I'm pretty resilient when it comes to people saying and doing things that aren't very nice. Usually it's easy for me to brush something off, because one of the tenants that I hold very close is something that Wayne Dyer, one of my favorite speakers, said:

How people treat you is their karma. How you react is yours.

So, since I keep this quote in the back of my mind, going about social relationships is usually pretty easy, because it removes the air of seriousness out of most things. That's a double-edged sword, I guess, because it can be a blurry line between carefree and jaded. 

Still, I tend to think of myself as carefree when it comes to relationships, whether it be platonic or otherwise. But in early February, I got hit out of nowhere, which, admittedly, hadn't happened in at least a few years. I was moving along all excited about someone, too preoccupied to notice that a bus was headed for me at like eighty miles an hour, and then bam. It felt like a ton of bricks to the chest. It sucked.

I whined about it a lot. It was easy to complain because it's always easy to complain when something goes wrong. I spent a lot of time alone in my car thinking about what would've/could've been if I'd just done x or y differently. Still, though, I was committed to maintaining a month of gratitude, so every day I kept making notes in my journal about the things I had to say "thank you" for... even if, when I first sat down to do it, I didn't feel very appreciative of anything. 

It's easy to get caught in that mindset, especially when things are happening that are seemingly out of your control. But there's a silver lining and finding it just depends on changing your perspective.

Last February, my good friend Jim passed away. He'd been terminally diagnosed seven months earlier, and though I saw him almost every day for over a year prior to his passing, he didn't tell me (or anyone else, for that matter.) It was only after his death that I found out he'd known, and it shocked me. He lived with such vigor and enthusiasm for the finer things in life (beer, whiskey, Spanish girls) that you wouldn't have guessed anything was wrong. He laughed a lot. He complimented people, even when I thought they were shitty. He told bad jokes, and then retold them. He spent too money on Johnny Cash on the jukebox, and then insisted on dancing as it played, and he didn't care who was laughing at him. Looking back on all of his positivity despite his diagnosis seems miraculous. He didn't just wake up on the right side of the bed. He lived on it.

So I spent a lot of February remembering Jim, too, and at first it seemed a parallel thread to the practice of gratitude in my daily life. The older I get, though, the more I realize that there are rarely (if ever) occurrences/experiences that are independent of another occurrence/experience. Life has a flow to it, and everything is connected.

I don't think it's a coincidence that the anniversary of Jim's death fell in the same month as my gratitude practice, because the more I thought about it, the more I realized that Jim had been my greatest teacher of wholehearted appreciation. He truly lived that saying:

It's the little things in life.

 So, when I thought about him and the way he went about his final months, I was able to put my mindset into perspective. I still felt a little bummed about the person who'd run me over, but with some consideration, the vehicle seemed less like a bus and more like a compact car. A Fiat, perhaps.

In choosing to see the silver lining like Jim, I wrote things like:

I feel grateful to have a friend who lets me vent and who is just generally there for me.

and:

Today I am grateful for the lesson of inner strength through experience, regardless of how unpleasant or harrowing the experience seems. I am grateful that time and perspective has allowed me to stay soft, choosing love instead of fear.

 and:

 Today I am grateful for every moment that has led me o this moment right here, right now. I am grateful for what is yet to come.

In writing those things, as the month went on, the Fiat that hit me seemed less like a compact car and more like a bicycle.

And now it just seems like a stone. There's a bruise, sure, but it's not going to leave a mark - just a memory of that time some asshole and threw a rock at me, but I forgave him anyway.

I believe I would've come to the same conclusions about the gratitude if I hadn't done a month of practice. All roads lead to the same place, but I'm grateful that I chose this experience now because it's done a lot to lift off some heavy weight from my shoulders. It's made me feel lighter, and removed some of the seriousness of things that occasionally go wrong.

The most rewarding result, though, is that I've noticed a shift in my own mindset. Prior to this month, I felt deprived in certain areas, but after saying "thank you" as often as I could throughout February, I feel that I've shifted into a state of abundance. I feel like I have more than enough of everything.

And I'm grateful for it. I highly, highly encourage all of you to try this for yourselves. Keeping a journal worked for me, but even setting a reminder in your phone for the same time every day can be an efficient way to remember to practice appreciation at least once every 24 hours. Watch how your life changes before your eyes.


I'm nicknaming March The Minimalist Month, because I plan to downsize the number of things I own. I feel like this practice will be freeing and positive in a different way - I'm hoping that by decluttering my physical space, I'll be decluttering my mind, too. Look for that post at the start of April.

Have a good month! :)

Sober January (End of Month 1) // Getting Better at Being Alive

It’s February 3rd. The first month of 2016 flew by! How have the first 33 days of the year treated you? Have you made any changes? Do you feel any different?

I’m big on resolutions - but not the kind that are based from desire to be something different. Rather, I prefer to set goals that I can work toward throughout the year, that deliver gradual results over time rather than get me to some distant end-point in an unforeseeable future. That’s why I think resolutions like “eat less junk food” or “run 5x a week” usually fail - they’re complete lifestyle changes that don’t really deliver measurable results, except a consistent dread of actually engaging in your resolution.

Resolutions shouldn’t feel like that; instead, they should make you excited and like you’re on the path aligned with the greatest version of yourself.

In 2014, I resolved to take 12 trips over 12 months.. Not only did I do it, but I actually surpassed my goal, hitting 17 that year.

• January 2014: Weekend trip to Kalamazoo, Michigan
• February 2014: Spur-of-the-moment, middle-of-the-night trip through Indiana and Kentucky to Nashville, Tennessee (funny how life works. Here we are, two years later.)
• March 2014: Dubuque, Iowa
• April 2014: Los Angeles, California, to visit an old friend
• May 2014: San Diego, California
• June 2014: San Diego, California
• July 2014: Hopped on the second leg of Vans Warped Tour:
• New York, New York
• Wantagh, New York
• Hartford, Connecticut
• Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania
• Detroit, Michigan
• Minneapolis, Minnesota
• August 2014:
• Milwaukee, Wisconsin
• Laramie, Wyoming
• Salt Lake City, Utah
• Denver, Colorado
• September 2014:
• Portland, Oregon
• October 2014:
• Grand Rapids, Michigan
• Baton Rouge/New Orleans, Louisiana
• November 2014:
• Milwaukee, Wisconsin

I don’t know how this happened, but I do know that when you decide to do something, the entire universe conspires to make it happen.

In 2015, I simply decided I’d move out of state. I’d wanted to try a new city for almost five years, but had lacked the courage to actually go through with it. I had no idea how or with whom I’d move, just that I was going to. I had to.

And, as I said, the entire universe conspired to make it happen. The year started off slow enough - I had just put out my eBook, Sisters, Strangers and Slaughter, in December of 2014 and was taking the first few months of 2015 off work. I’d left my job at the end of 2014 in a huff and had no immediate desire to reenter the workforce, and my book royalties allowed me a slight comfort, albeit a limited one. I spent the majority of January in a state of confusion, and then decided that February would be productive, and got to work on my second book, a collection of twelve short and self-depreciating but funny stories about growing up in a middle-class family on the southside of Chicago. (It’s still not finished.) I was going to the library a lot to work, and it was there that I met a person who had a profound impact on my life.

I believe everyone we encounter, however briefly, has a lesson to teach us. Vibing with someone feels good and it lets us know we’re on the right path. Some teachers are more evident than others - for me, this one hit me like a ton of bricks. I called him LG, and when I told him I’d given him that nickname, he smiled and said, “yeah, life’s good.” He introduced me to the concepts of living in accordance with your highest self and teachers like Ralph Smart and Wayne Dyer. I spent a good month with him, learning and breaking through old habits and patterns I hadn’t recognized before, and then whatever we had dissipated as fast as it started. I didn’t realize it then, but the perspective I developed during that period of my life was something I’d hold onto long after the period ended.

In March 2015, I was recruited to help open a bar/restaurant across the street from Wrigley Field. I hadn’t planned on getting back into tending bar, but the promise of the money that would come with a Cubs season in such close proximity to the field lured me in. We opened the place on April 5, opening day, and the summer flew by with a rush of sweat, beer and more money than I knew what to do with (and, okay, a couple parking tickets.)

In June, I took a short road trip. The first stop was Nashville, where I stayed with an acquaintence from Warped Tour. We played the ukulele and guitar, got drunk in his kitchen and talked about the concept of sustainable food production. He got excited and led me to his backyard, where he showed me sprawling beds of every crop imaginable and his chicken coop. That night, as midnight came and went, I was standing in the yard marveling at the abundance of nature with a live hen in one hand and a Guinness in the other. He then gave me one of his plants in a small container and said “this should do well inside - here, take it.” I still have it on the curio cabinet in my bedroom.

After I left Nashville, I headed for Atlanta, where I stayed for a night before setting off for Myrtle Beach, South Carolina. I stayed in a hotel on the beach for two days and walked the boardwalk endlessly, but my mind was still on Nashville. Something was stirring in me, and as I went to sleep with the door open on that second night, I made the decision to move.

After checking out of my hotel, I loaded the car and set off for Charleston, West Virginia. Sometime during the drive, I texted my friend (now roommate), Megan, something like: “hey, if you’re still down to move to Nashville, let me know.”

She’d mentioned earlier that year that she wanted to move, but a lot of people say a lot of things without ever making a move toward actually doing them - so I didn’t expect it to pan out. The night I got back from my roadtrip, though, I went with her to see The Menzingers at The Abbey, and we talked a little bit about potentially moving.

“I’m like 80% sure at this point,” she said.

“I’m down,” I said again. “Just let me know. If we do move, I want chickens.”

(I still don’t have chickens, but maybe in time.)

The next two months flew by. Everyone was talking about how well the Cubs were doing - which meant they’d made the playoffs - which meant more money in my pocket thanks to an extended season.  In August, Megan and I went to scope out some houses in East Nashville, where we wanted to live. We found our house on Labor Day and signed a lease set to start on October 1st.

On Oct. 21, the Cubs lost their fourth game to the Mets in the postseason series and were eliminated from the playoffs. I left work that night and drove through the empty streets of Wrigleyville, looking around with what seemed like new eyes. It was the last time I’d experience the area as an active participant in it; even though it had existed before me and would continue to exist after I left, for that period, it was mine.

It took three trips to and from Nashville to get my things there. On the first night, I slept on the floor on a Mexican blanket I purchased from a gas station in Indiana for $6. I lit a candle and read some of Thoreau’s Walden & Civil Disobedience, before falling into a half-sleep state and waking only hours later to the sun. I went out the next day and bought a new bed. After it was delivered, I headed back to Illinois.

I’m now entering my fourth month of living here, and I’m only starting to reflect on all of the things that had to come together for me to end up right here, right now. Deepak Chopra said it nicely with the following:

“There are no extra pieces in the universe. Everyone is here because he or she has a place to fill, and every piece must fit itself into the big jigsaw puzzle.“

I believe that to be true.

So I did it - I fulfilled my 2015 “resolution” to move to another state. All the pieces came together as they needed to because the universe conspires to provide whatever you choose.

Keep in mind that there’s a difference between “choosing” and “desiring,” though, and the results of each are often quite different.

So that brings me to 2016. This year, I’ve decided to resolve to do smaller things that ultimately impact the whole of myself. Each month, I’ll be embarking on a mini-resolution intended to change my thoughts and behaviors to better align the person I am with the person I choose to be. Of course, there is an overarching theme (or, big goal) that each of these mini-resolutions fall under, but I’m keeping that resolution private until the end of the year. For now, I’m happy knowing it’s at least in the works.

So, for January, I did an experiment: no alcohol consumption for the entirety of the month. Prior to beginning my month of sobriety, I was a moderate drinker, having about 5-7 drinks per week. I’ve also been in the bar industry for six years, and haven’t gone more than a week without drinking since I turned twenty-one. This, then, was a huge change and challenge for me.

So how’d it go?

January 1st and 2nd were easy - I went on two hikes to bring in the year, and the fresh air and exercise felt good in combination with abstaining from alcohol. Someone from home was visiting, so it was a bit difficult to say no to drinks when we went down to Broadway to watch bands, but I substituted water and felt at least like I was somewhat comfortable.

I still went out. Megan also wasn’t drinking, so it helped to have someone else around who was sober. I realized the social aspect of drinking is the reason I most commonly engage in it - not particularly because I want a drink, but because I don’t want to be alone. In large cities, it’s easy to find something to do other than going to a bar, but here, most coffee shops close around 6 P.M., and unless someone is willing to have you over (or you’re willing to host), your options are very, very limited.

Also, on one particular Monday after work, I really, really wanted a margarita. I settled for tea instead.

And then I drank tea the next night, and the next. Now, it’s a habit in itself.

But at the end of the second week, I started to notice a difference in the way I felt.

I went to bed early and got up early. My sleep pattern changed, and I woke up with more energy than I can ever remember having. I also had a lot of free time that I had previously spent either in bars or slightly intoxicated, which basically means I wasn’t being productive.

Physically, I noticed a difference as well. I was able to increase my running speed and endurance, and though I didn’t lose much weight, I was able to increase my time at the gym because I felt so much better and gain muscle instead.

It truly was a great month, and I’m appreciative of the perspective it provided in terms of learning that consumption of as much alcohol as I was drinking (though it may not even be considered that much to some) really affected me from a mental and physical standpoint.

I had a glass of red wine on February 1, 2016, and felt the effects of the alcohol almost immediately. I woke up the next morning more tired than I’ve been since the first week of sobriety. I also noticed a slight headache throughout the day. But I had a hell of a lot of fun when I was drinking it - more social, a little lighter.

So moving away from this, I think drinking something I’m going to reserve for special occasions. I’m not anti-alcohol; I’m just more aware of how the substances I put into my body affect the way I feel.

If you’re curious, just try it for yourself, even for a week. Even if you don’t think you’re a heavy drinker, you will crave alcohol, but when you push through that, you’ll realize how good you feel without it.

So Sober January was a thing. Now that it’s February, where does that leave me? With another goal, of course.

For the duration of this month I’ll be keeping a daily journal of things I’m grateful for and reflecting on how my life is improved by recognizing the good qualities in everything that happens - even things that are seemingly unfortunate. My belief is that no experience is inherently “bad” no matter how hurtful it feels. So, with this experiment, my guess is that by the end of the month I’ll be able to better reflect on how having a balanced, grateful mindset allows for a more peaceful life, which is what we all ultimately want.

That said, I’m calling it Gratitude February. I’ll post and analyze my thoughts on the process and outcome at the start of next month.

I hope you’ve all enjoyed the start to 2016, and encourage you to develop an idea of things you’d like to do for yourselves each month this year as well. 30 days is an easy commitment, and you can start whenever you’d like. Develop an idea for something you’d like to change, or a habit you’d like to develop, and start tomorrow - remember that it doesn’t have to be the first of the month (or the year!) to begin living in alignment with the highest version of yourself.

Feel free to leave me comments with any questions or ideas you have for a 30 day challenge!

America's Unhealthy Relationship With Food

The relationship between humans and their food is complex.

Food isn’t something we simply consume to sustain ourselves. There’s diets, lifestyles, and beliefs that influence what we put into our bodies. Additionally, there’s cultural factors that affect our dietary choices. Let’s think about food in a cultural context. It brings people together for celebrations, business meetings and family traditions. Recipes and habits are passed down from parents to children, and can survive over many generations - strangely, sometimes much longer than the humans who keep them.

Food is literally one of four things we need to survive and thrive - so why do we have such an unhealthy relationship with it?

Take a look at these statistics to give this question some perspective:

• Since 1970, our daily diets have grown by approximately 600 calories, which is enough to add 31 pounds to each person every year.
• 45 million Americans engage in dieting every year, and spend an astonishing $33 billion dollars on weight-loss products. 95% of these dieters will regain their weight within 1-5 years.
• Empty calories from added sugars and solid fats account for 40% of total daily calories for kids aged 2-18.
• 42% of 1st to 3rd grade girls want to be thinner. (This is so sad.)
• According to a report published in 2011, more than half of all adults will be obese (they’re already overweight) by 2030.

So hold up - what’s the issue?

I wasn’t really aware of the issues associated with food until I was entering my freshman year of college. When I first enrolled, I declared a journalism major - though I’d eventually change it - and one of our summer assignments leading up to the first semester was to read Michael Pollan’s The Omnivore’s Dilemma: A Natural History of Four Meals as an example of creative nonfiction. It was a great example of a factual piece that was both ethical and interesting, but, journalistic example aside, the content was mind-blowing. It is still a book I keep with high regard on my bookshelf, and I’ve read it with such frequency that the pages are dog-eared and stained with coffee.

In The Omnivore’s Dilemma, Pollan explores the history of the human diet while reporting on a parallel thread - the average North American’s current diet. He points out the vast space between where we started (natural foods we grew, gathered, and hunted ourselves) and where we’re at (super processed foods with added sugar, fat, starch, preservatives, chemicals…). Looking at the entirety of human history (in which people lived mostly healthy lives on a day-to-day basis), how did we get here in a period of just 40 or so years?

Sure, there’s plenty factors that influenced the way we eat today, but what I believe had the most impact on the food crisis we face today was the demand for convenient meals at the precise time that the major food conglomerates were lobbying the government for regulation that favored them.

Here’s a condensed timeline that explains what happened:

December 7, 1941: Japan bombs the American fleet in Pearl Harbor, Hawaii.

December 8, 1941: The United States enters WWII, leading to an increased number of enlisted men. Employers desperately needed to fill their positions and began to hire women to replace the men that traditionally held roundhouse jobs. Child care facilities and pre-cooked meals that could be purchased and reheated at home became useful in a way that they’d never been before, and simultaneously became the new normal.

September 2, 1945: The war ends and men come home and resume their jobs. Women are forced back into the household, but have learned that they can help support themselves/their family and care for their children thanks to the new convenient developments.

1947: The “radarange,” the first microwave oven, is put on the market for $5,000.

1953: The number of women working equals the number of women working at the height of WWII.

1960s: Aluminum cans are sterilized for the purpose of storing commercially available foods. Irradiation is first used to sterilize dried fruits and vegetables. Diet Pepsi goes on the market. Green Giant frozen vegetables in butter sauce go on the market. Monsanto Company begins manufacturing Agent Orange for the United States to use as chemical warfare in Vietnam.

1971: Americans are on an economic disadvantage on a nationwide scale. Hamburger Helper and Betty Crocker are all the rage because they’re inexpensive and convenient.

1972: The FDA bans Red Dye No. 2 because studies show it may cause cancer. High fructose corn syrup becomes prevalent in snack foods and beverages.

1979: 1% of American households have microwaves.

1980: Aspartamene, an artificial sweetener, is approved by the FDA. Lean Cuisine frozen dinners go on the market.

1983: Monsanto scientists publish a report stating that they are the first to successfully genetically modify a plant cell.

1985: Monsanto aquires G.D. Searle & Company, a life sciences corporation that focuses on pharmaceuticals, agriculture and animal health.

1986: 25% of American households have microwaves.

1988: Monsanto conducts field tests on genetically modified crops.

1990: The Nutrition and Education Act is passed, forcing food manufacturers to list ingredients on the packages of their products. GMOs become widely prevalent in the 1990s.

1997: 90% of American households have microwaves.

2000: “Low-fat” and “fat-free’ start to appear on the packages of processed foods. Pressure from consumers forces manufacturers to cut fat content by reducing high-fat ingredients, like butters and oils. To keep their foods appealing, they added artificial sweeteners, preservatives and artificial flavors.

2002: The Washington Post publishes a front-page report on Monsanto’s legacy of environmental damage.

2008: 95% of American households have microwaves.

What all of this means is that we have a nexus of nutritionally barren (but “convenient, low-fat”) products on the market and a major chemical company (one that also developed the bovine growth hormone to make cows grow at an unnatural and alarming rate) producing and controlling 80% of the country’s corn market and 93% of the country’s soy market.

Unfortunately, despite a few scandals that were quickly covered with multi-million dollar PR fixes, most of this flew under the radar.

If you take a stroll around your supermarket, you might notice the labels that scream out at you from the packaging. They may claim "low-fat," “healthy alternative” or, my personal favorite, “natural.” The average American is easily duped by these labels, which essentially mean nothing. In fact, the products that make these claims can be even worse for the human body (considering their artificial ingredients) than their full-fat/processed cousins.

The only labels that really mean anything are “Non-GMO Project Verified*” and “USDA Organic.”
They look like this:

Despite what your grandmother says, these labels aren’t a conspiracy to get more money out of the collective consumer pocket. They’re more expensive because their production is more expensive. In addition, no food manufacturer can simply claim that their products are free from GMOs or organic; these labels are earned after a lengthy and thorough application process that ensures the products are kept to the standard. This process costs money. That’s why you’re paying more for an organic avocado than you pay for a non-organic one.

USDA organic is a valid stamp developed by the FDA after being made target by activist groups demanding these legislations. This labels help you understand, at the very least, that your food isn’t sprayed over thousands of times with pesticides that were developed to kill living organisms.

Non GMO Verified, on the other hand, is a label that ensures your food isn't genetically modified. The organization responsible for this is a third party that tests for the absence of GMO risk. Verification is maintained through an annual audit. Here's a list of products already verified by the Non GMO Project.

Eating clean, organic and non GMO foods are just the beginning to eating a nutritionally sound and sustainable diet, but they’re a step in the right direction. Awareness of these issues is necessary on a nationwide scale so that people can really understand - and adapt to - the fucked-up food landscape of America.

Remember that laws aren’t always a reflection of the collective consciousness of society. Sometimes, they’re an expression of who holds the power. In this case, the food manufacturers that are producing nutritionally deficient foods to steal consumer money and laugh behind their backs.

In the capitalist market, every dollar counts and every single person is responsible for how they spend their dollars. One dollar = one vote. Stop giving your dollars and votes to corporations that are raping human health and the planet.

Here’s a few suggestions for how to start living a healthy, sustainable life:

• Limit frozen and processed foods. Cook meals using fresh, organic ingredients as often as possible.
• Avoid medicating yourself with traditional pharmaceutical solutions, which interfere with your ability to listen to your body’s signals. If you have a headache, you don’t need Tylenol. You need more sleep, more exercise, or more fresh air, and less sugar, caffeine, or alcohol. If a problem persists, there are natural, holistic ways to solve most ailments.
• Grow some of your own produce, and don’t use pesticides. This way, you have at least some fresh, organic produce that you know for a fact is 100% natural. Buy your seeds only from organic, non-GMO seed companies! If you don’t have outdoor space, volunteer at a community or urban garden (lots of these will allow you to take home produce in exchange for your time.)
• If you aren’t ready to give up meat, buy only organic, hormone-free and grass-fed varieties. Still, consider a vegetarian or vegan diet.
• Educate yourself. Here’s a few books that’ll get you started:
• The Omnivore’s Dilemma: A Natural History of Four Meals by Michael Pollan
• Natural Health, Natural Medicine by Dr. Andrew Weil
• Fast Food Nation by Eric Schlosser
• The World According to Monsanto: Pollution, Corruption, and Control of the World’s Food Supply by Marie-Monique Robin
• Food, Inc. by Peter Pringle

This post may sound negative, but I’ll end this with a quote by David Icke:

“Terms like ‘good’ and ‘bad’ are extremely simplistic in what is a far more complex situation. Truth can’t be negative. It can only be truth.”

*Edited 01/09/16. I was incorrect in my original comments about the Non GMO Project label. I said initially that it was a government organization that did the testing, but the organization that enforces and maintains standards is a private, third-party organization.