I’d Rather Have a Chocolate Bar by Frances Gaudiano

Sophie’s yoga teacher had raved about the cacao workshop. It was to be held at the yoga studio on a Saturday afternoon. Sophie had started taking yoga because she thought it would be good for her anxiety levels. She wasn’t sure a cacao festival would help with that. Didn’t cacao wake you up? Sophie didn’t want to wake up. She wanted to go to sleep – for weeks, maybe even a month or two. She had terrible insomnia. But Juniper (was that her real name?) the yoga teacher, insisted that the workshop would open up Sophie’s heart and help her to overcome all her worries. In one afternoon? That would be great and a lot cheaper than four or five years of therapy.

“You can’t be on anti-depressants to partake in the cacao ritual,” Juniper warned. Sophie wondered if she looked like someone on anti-depressants. There were dark circles under her eyes but she wasn’t despondent depressed, just a bit overwhelmed at times. To be honest, she had tried anti-depressants but they gave her terribly dry mouth and zapped what little libido she had left. She assured Juniper that she wasn’t on any drugs, not even the fun kind. Juniper raised her eyebrows but made no other comment.

Prior to the workshop, one was to avoid caffeine. That made sense as the cacao was a stimulant. No point in being over-stimulated. Unfortunately, by 10 AM Sophie had a banging headache from foregoing her morning coffee. She took a paracetamol and hoped that wasn’t breaking the no drug rule. She had to eat something with the paracetamol or she’d be sick so she had a piece of toast with a bit of peanut butter to keep her strength up. She couldn’t remember if they were supposed to fast beforehand. She hoped not. Maybe she should have read the flyer about the event more carefully.

As it was at the yoga studio, Sophie went in her lycra leggings. She hoped that was the right outfit to wear. When she arrived, she noted that many women were wearing floaty garments like kaftans and harem pants. Sophie stood out in her sleek sportswear. Her stomach knotted in embarrassment. She took a mat at the back of the hall, as far from the front as possible. She didn’t want the leader of the workshop to notice her inappropriate attire. From her distant vantage point, she observed the set up at the front of the room. There were several framed photos, buddha statues, bells, drums and a huge vat. That must be the cacao mixture. It didn’t smell a bit like cocoa. She hoped it didn’t taste awful. She had a sensitive stomach at the best of times and the paracetamol wasn’t sitting well in her gut.

After a few minutes of trying to get comfortable sitting on a pillow in the centre of her mat, Sophie gave up. Her hips were too tight to sit cross legged so she stuck her legs straight out and let her back slouch. A straight spine was required for yoga but this wasn’t a yoga class. It was going to be a long afternoon so she may as well give in to her bad posture now. It was at this point that a young man entered the room and sat amidst the display in the front of the room. He was wearing harem pants as well, quite colourful ones with a lot of stains on them.  His hair was long and in need of a wash. Both arms were decorated with what Sophie understood to be ‘sleeve’ tattoos and each wrist was garnished with a variety of bangles and braided ‘friendship’ bracelets. He must have a lot of friends Sophie surmised.

“Hello, my name is Whitethorn and I am here today to blow your mind.” Do these people get their names legally changed Sophie wondered or are they all the progeny of hippies? Whitethorn continued, “This is the best cacao you can get in England. I can guarantee that because I have tasted cacao from all over South America. This is Venezuelan cacao, it’s even better than Guatemalan cacao.” Sophie was impressed that he could tell the difference. She couldn’t even tell the difference between different brands of coffee and she had tasted a lot of coffee in her life.

“We are going to drink of the cacao and then I am going to take you on the journey of your life.” Uh oh. Sophie didn’t like this. It was beginning to sound like a drug trip. She didn’t want to go on a journey with perfect strangers. She felt her heart begin to race and that twitch in her eye winked into being. She looked around at the other participants. They all looked excited. Sophie took a deep breath. She was going to do this. She was going to enjoy it. She would get something out of it. She better had. It had cost her enough.

“I used to be a drug addict,” Whitethorn was going on with his introduction. Sophie was not surprised at this admission. “Time inside taught me a lot. I read the masters. I started meditating. I did a 12-step program.” You can get a lot done when you don’t have to go to work Sophie concluded. “And I’ve learned from my past lives as well.” Sophie nodded. Past lives were big now. She was going to check out hers as soon as she sorted out this life. “You all just need to let go. You need to let go of everything. You need to stop eating meat and dairy, you need to stop watching the telly. Give up your middle-class values. Stop going to Waitrose. Then you will open your heart and find your path. Your life will be bliss. My life is bliss. Or you can hold onto your shit and come back for 9000 more lives until you get your shit sorted. The choice is yours.”

Sophie pulled her knees up to her chest and hugged herself. This guy was a bit full on. What was wrong with Waitrose? If you looked for the bargains you could get a decent shop in and you got a free Guardian on Saturdays. She’d like to have a blissful life but she didn’t want to completely give up telly. She could give up dairy, sort of, so long as she could still have chocolate. Would that be enough to have a goodish life? She was pondering this when a cup was thrust into her hand. Whitethorn’s assistant, an awfully good-looking young man, was distributing the cacao. Was his name Blackthorn? Sophie didn’t feel it would be appropriate to ask. She took the cup in two hands. It was enormous. How was she supposed to drink all of this?

“As you have been fasting,” So they were supposed to fast! She was on the wrong foot from the moment she put on her lycra. Then she had taken paracetamol and eaten food! This probably wasn’t going to work for her at all. “You’re super hungry and want to neck this. Don’t! Take a few sips first. When we get into the flow of the ceremony, you can drink the rest. We will come around and refill your cup when this one is finished.” Sophie knew for a fact that she would struggle to finish what she had just been given. She took a wary sip and gagged. It was bitter and way too rich. Fatty, almost. She had to drink it though. The workshop had cost £50. This cup of cacao had cost more than ten trips to Starbucks.

Whitethorn began to drum and the nubile youth accompanied him with a chant. They were ordered to join in but Sophie couldn’t make out what they were saying. She moved her lips, pretending to be part of the crowd, fully immersed in the experience. “Louder!” Whitethorn shouted. “Come on. Forgot your years of indoctrination. All that time brainwashed in school. Forget it all!” Sophie paused. She had liked school, especially her history teacher. He had been so nice to her when her dog died.  

Suddenly Whitethorn was beside her, with a jug of the steaming, thick, brown liquid. She pointed to her still full cup. “I’m taking it slowly,” she apologized. He gave her a look of disgust and moved back to his stage. “I’m going to lead you on a journey now.” Sophie didn’t feel like going anywhere with Whitethorn. He had practically sneered at her. It wasn’t her fault she had a small stomach. She would finish her cup of cacao but she needed a bit more time.

The drum started up again and Whitethorn began to exhort them to leave their bodies and travel with him across the sea to the forests of America. What was wrong with the forests in Scotland? They had some lovely trees in the Cairngorms. However, it was the California redwoods for them, where they were supposed to – Sophie couldn’t make out what they were supposed to do in the redwoods. The drum was beating so loudly that even though Whitethorn was shouting, she couldn’t make head or tails of what he was saying. It was exhausting trying. She gave up sitting in a semi-meditation posture and lay down on her mat. She felt someone wave something over her body and saw the beautiful boy waving palm leaves over the prostate bodies. It tickled. It was not relaxing.

The drumming went on for an extended period of time. Sophie’s headache came back and she was starting to feel nauseous from the cacao. She had managed to finish her cup and wanted to point that out but they were supposed to still be on a journey somewhere. She had parted company with the rest of the group in California. Sophie was dying for a pee. She cracked one eye open. Would it be ok to slip off to the loo? She rolled over onto her side and crept out of the room.

What a relief to be away from the noise. She spent ages in the loo, urinating, washing her hands. Then she patted her face with a cool towel. Her face had gone quite red. She checked her pulse. It was a few beats faster than normal. The cacao was having some physical effect but Sophie didn’t feel any spiritual lift. Her heart was working a bit harder but it definitely hadn’t opened.

When she got back to her mat she decided to try sitting again. People were swaying and chanting at this point. Sophie wasn’t much of a swayer. She sat still and massaged her calf muscle. All the weird positions were giving her cramp. “Some of you are holding on! Some of you just won’t let go of your old beliefs. You are choosing to stay stuck. Do you really want to live another 9000 lives on this planet?” Whitethorn was shouting orders again. It was pretty much the same spiel he had given before. He wasn’t a very creative person, was he? Maybe the drugs had destroyed that part of his brain. Sophie was bored. She thought about what she would have been doing this afternoon if she hadn’t come to this workshop. Probably cleaning her house. She hadn’t dusted in two weeks and the kitchen floor needed mopping again. It would be nice to get all that done and sit down with a good book and a cup of tea. She might even put real milk in it.

She took some deep, cleansing breaths and made one more effort to get into the flow of the ceremony but no, she just wasn’t feeling it. This Whitethorn fellow was really irritating. He reminded her of a television evangelist preaching fire and brimstone, only Whitethorn’s threat was multiple incarnations. She looked around the room. There must be 20 people here. 20 people at £50 each. Whitethorn and Juniper had cleared a tidy sum today. The cacao couldn’t have cost them that much. Sophie had seen a packet in the health food store for £8.

Oh dear, now they were getting up and dancing. There were some people with their eyes closed, shifting their bodies trance like to the beat of the drum. Sophie stood up. She moved her weight from foot to foot and felt like a fool. Maybe if she had drunk two full cups instead of just the one. She would have probably been sick though. That wouldn’t have been a beautiful experience for anyone. She had failed. Her heart hadn’t even cracked open a slit and now she felt like she had wasted her money and her afternoon. She was really disappointed and getting less and less fond of Mr. Bossy pants by the minute. She had better leave before she told him to stop shouting and banging that damn drum so loudly. Maybe a walk home in the fresh air would improve her mood.

Picking up her bag, Sophie headed for the exit, only to find Whitethorn himself blocking her way. “So, you are giving up? I knew you couldn’t do it.” She tried to dodge around him but his Adonis attendant was on the other side of him. She could feel sweat trickling between her breasts and her breath came in shallow bursts. She had to leave. Screwing up her courage she lifted her head and looked Whitethorn straight in the face. “I don’t want to let go of it all. I like my life. I was hoping to make it a bit better, but your way doesn’t work for me.”

“You are choosing to give up joy and being one with the universe.” Sophie took a step back. Who did this guy think he was? The second coming? She shook her head. “What I am choosing,” she said through gritted teeth, “is to get away from you. You are a narrow-minded, opinionated and a bully. I don’t want to be like you. If your life is so wonderful, why do you have to drink this awful concoction every day and why can’t you find the time to put on clean clothes and wash your hair?” With that she flounced past him and out of the hall, ignoring the stunned silence behind her.

 Sophie stepped out into the late afternoon, shaking a bit from the confrontation. Maybe the cacao had pumped her heart full of courage instead of cracking it open. She had never told someone off before and decided it was wonderful. Standing still Sophie let a gust of air from the ocean sweep through her and wash away the vision of Whitethorn pushing a room full of people towards his personal vision of eternal bliss.  After taking a deep and cleansing breath, she walked up the road, to the top of the hill and admired the sun sparkling on the sea. A brilliant white gull called above her, heading for the chippy. Now that was an idea! She could get a nice bag of chips and sit on the beach. She didn’t fancy a big meal after all that cacao. Later, she would walk home and finish the book she had started last night. It would be a pleasant evening. Not euphoric, just pleasant. She would, of course, worry when she went to bed. Tonight, it would probably be about whether or not to get solar panels but that wouldn’t keep her awake too long.  Life wasn’t perfect but it was her life and if she had to come back another 8,999 times, well, she would just do her best to enjoy it.

Frances Gaudiano

Image by Stefan Schweihofer from Pixabay A large pot of liquid chocolate with a spoon handle sticking out.