Nothing to report today.

I am having difficulty organizing a cohesive list of what my goals are. I remember two quips about goals. One was, “You’ve got to name it to claim it.” And the other was, “You’ve got to pursue your dreams because your dreams cannot pursue you.”

As a newly minted 53 year old, I attest that I have always had difficulty sticking with a plan, let alone having any methodology to achieve any goals I have set for myself.

My primary goal needs to be my health. I’ve always been obese and I’ve been diabetic for the past 15 years, which I have failed to manage properly. To begin my fitness journey I will walk four miles today. My fiancé, Daniel, and I weighed ourselves and took each other’s measurements on August 7th. These will be our baseline for tracking our health improvements in the following months. I will schedule an appointment with an diabetic specialist and work with them to get the medications needed to manage my blood sugar levels.

So that is goal number 1. Next will be to apply S.M.A.R.T. goals to aid in my success in achieving this goal, or rather, creating new habits that will foster a healthier lifestyle.

And bending down beside the glowing bars,
Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled
And paced upon the mountains overhead
And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.

William Butler Yeats “When You Are Old”

I spent the Fourth of July on the Rez with my family. My mother’s family has a long history with this land; my great-great-great-great-great grandfather was a trapper and in 1814 married a Native woman named La Petite Okanogan and my family’s been here ever since.

French, Irish and Native American traditions run deep in my family, and I have a strong bond with this part of my heritage.

One thing I realize is that people may come and go in your life, but family is always there, no matter what. I am so grateful to still have both my folks in my life and I’m grateful to have all of my family that have been there for me all this time.

Shake hands, we shall never be friends, all’s over;
I only vex you the more I try.
All’s wrong that ever I’ve done or said,
And nought to help it in this dull head:
Shake hands, here’s luck, good-bye.

But if you come to a road where danger
Or guilt or anguish or shame’s to share,
Be good to the lad that loves you true
And the soul that was born to die for you,
And whistle and I’ll be there.

A. E. Housman 

I think the days are winding down of seeing my therapist. We’ve been having our weekly sessions now going on almost three months and I’m finding that I have less and less to talk about. Take today for instance, I was done talking only a half-hour into our session.

Having a therapist was the best thing I could have done. In the beginning I was broken and feeling helpless. Today, I am in a great place and very happy. I found that moving beyond a bad relationship is pretty straight-forward; it’s finding and reconnecting with oneself and creating strategies that make sure you don’t make the same mistakes again that takes time.

On top of that, Seattle Pride weekend was a revelation. I had so much fun and met so many great guys – guys that wanted to hang out and get to know me. I’m not interested in dating – although I’m in a good place, my heart is still broken. But I’m definitely ready to make some more great friends. And there’s one fellow in particular, that I think, sometime down the road, might be someone I’d like to spend a lot more time with, but I’m enjoying what life is offering at the moment.