Leaving my Beloved Porch Swing

By now, we all know that my porch swing is a literal object, but it's also a figurative place from which my tales are spun.

I will soon have to leave my literal porch swing behind, which brings me great sorrow. I have spent many hours in it, reading, writing, drinking tea, coffee, wine, sitting with friends, discussing life, watching the bees, lightening bugs, listening to neighbors' drama from afar. Finn has come to love the porch just as much as I, while he constantly scans his surroundings for pesky cats and squirrels who threaten his domain with their very existence.
Finn has also become quite fond of his backyard, which looks like the secret garden and allows him to roam wild and free within the confines of a chainlink fence that is mostly covered by greenery. I have become fond of it too.

I have come to love the tiny house we live in, with its historic presence, high ceilings, authentic molding, and original wood floors.

The thing is, none of these things belong to me. I rent them, and they have provided a great life and solid shelter and protection for us for the last year and 3 months, accompanied by the outstanding human beings who are my landlords. I have been truly blessed in the landlord department, both here and in Eureka Springs.

(Just a pic of my porch at my FAVORITE time of year.) 

Every time I have moved on to a new path in life, I have been ready to go. I have been able to detach from the current home or town or life, and move on to the next with blind ambition and gusto. This time is different. I came here because I love this town and the people in it. I'm close to my family. I thought I would be here longer, but the time to move on has come suddenly, and honestly, has arrived as a saving grace from some of the things I found I could not live with in my current life. I will not be speaking of those things here, but because of them, I know in my heart that it's time to go.

You may be a believer in coincidence, but I am not. I happened to be here when my aunt was diagnosed with colon cancer and spent her last days in a hospital right here in Hot Springs, where I could be close. I was in the room with her when she passed. I may not have been able to be there if my life path had not led me back home for this short period of time. I would not have been able to be there with her for her first and only chemo treatment, and I may not have made it in time for her to recognize me before the end so I could talk to her one last time. These are blessings that I was guided here to receive, although I did not count them blessings at the time.

I have learned some invaluable lessons from my current job that I will take with me forever and will make me a better employee and possibly one day, a better employer/manager/director. I have met and developed friendships with some amazing people, and those relationships will not die just because I take a new opportunity in a city not far away.

My family will still be close, and I will be centrally located to many of those I love- center of the state, and practically the center of the country, give or take a few hundred miles.
Hopefully, this new opportunity will allow me to travel more yet live more frugally while building my career and solidifying my future. There is no way to tell for sure, but I have high hopes.

There is meaning in every move you make. Change is painful and challenging, and that's the only way we grow. One of my best friends recently reminded me of that. It is so true.

So, this is my shout out of thanks to my literal porch swing for opening a writing door for me. I will be sitting in it as much as possible until the time comes for me to leave it, as it is my muse and I want to soak up all it has to offer before moving on.
I'm certain a new muse will present itself, but I will always have the porch swing as a figurative place in my mind. In other words, the name of this blog is NOT changing. :)