As I was sitting at my desk this morning, I heard a sudden FLUP FLUP FLUP FLUP FLUP FLUP FLUP, which startled me. The sound stopped as quickly as it started. Puzzled, I walked over to the fan, just in time to see two moths flung from the insides of the fan.

How crappy that moment was: two moths, fluttering around each other, zoom this way, zoom that way, and hey, what is this neat air flow, BOOM, dead, bodies flung out of the blades.

I stood looking at them for longer than I should have, pondering what consciousness or awareness a moth may have, what this thing we call life is, and what connections my consciousness might have to these dying bodies. Of course, death and dying and the fraility of all of this has been weighing on my mind recently. Too much death in the last couple years, too much all this in the last couple days. Why does something have to die so that I can live?

The moment passed. The object that caused their deaths became the mechanism by which I removed them from my place, the whole thing making me not happy.

As one does after a really hard workout: one goes for sugar (or in my case, even more sugar).

In my birthday tradition, I went to Sprinkles for cupcakes after my hike. In not my yearly tradition, I ordered only six.

As my intimate circle of friends continues to shrink, I have fewer people to feed cupcakes to on my birthday. I mean, fewer people to celebrate with. Wait, no, that doesn't sound much better. I adore that Martha messages me every birthday. I look forward to outdoors things with her some day.

Anyway, birthday number gosh what the heck is it now, something something prime it is. Time to walk across the park, singing at the top of my lungs, "IT'S MY BIRTHDAY, HAPPY BIRTHDAY! HAPPY HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME. LET'S GO!" while waving a box of cupcakes around.

Again, tradition. You can't break from a tradition this good.

Shame is a heavy burden. It can lighten only when brought to the light.

The worst shame is the one you carry alone, even when your friends and those who support you already know what you are going to say. The worst shame is the one you never needed to carry in the first place.

Tonight, Kris and I had a very similar talk that Andy and I had had on Sunday night. I told him what I had been doing for the last eight years. I filled in gaps when he asked questions, which wasn't often but also wasn't zero. He told me that, yeah, he knew much of what I told him. He asked what was going to happen going forward.

The irony of the timing was not lost on me, but I told him the best I could predict and commit to. I let him know that unless he tells me otherwise, our plans after Vinson are the plans as I understand them.

In not wanting to hurt anyone, I hurt a lot of people. I made a lot of mistakes. In many of the 12 step programs you hear about, admitting what you did to those you harmed, and then making the amends you can, are two of the biggest, hardest steps you can do. Well, I'm not in a 12 step program, but I see the benefit, beauty, release, and betterment of those two steps, so I did them. I'm working hard to be more upfront and honest with people, and to keep my boundaries. That seems to be a thing these last 2-3 years: boundaries, and people learning to set and keep them.

This upcoming year, this training, this mountain, all of it is part of my year of healing. The Year of Healing™ was supposed to be 2022.

It starts tomorrow instead.

I went to the doctor today for my annual physical. I have to say, our medical system is really not conducive to receiving care quickly.

Today's appointment was for referrals for the doctors I actually want to see. While I am happy that I was able to schedule all the tests that I wanted, and receive all the referrals that I also wanted, I'm less happy that it is colonoscopy time. When asked, "Do I want a referral [for the colonoscopy]?" my answer was "No, I don't want one, but I understand that I need one, so yes, I will take a referral." The provider laughed.

I managed to scandalize him again later in the physical, when I let him know that I actively take 1-2 grams of sodium a day. I could see his eyes go from my eyes, to the blood pressure monitor reading, back to my eyes, back to the blood pressure reading, back to my eyes. "Have you always had low blood pressure?" I laughed. "Actually, that's higher than normal," I responded. It was 98/67. Not exactly "high."

I managed five referrals, three tests scheduled, and a whole lot of feeling better about my health. I still weigh too much.