Change. Movement. It is the constant in life.
It seems many of the people in my life are heeding an internal call. They are moving — moving on to new jobs, new careers, new homes, new places.
I don’t know if it is spring that urges them in these endeavors or some other something. All I know is that I have been saying, “Good Bye” a lot in the last two months.
Farewell dinners at work for physicians and co-workers. News this week of two more striking out on new adventures. My daughter poised on a career shift and a major move. My other daughter settling into a new home, my grandchildren — new schools. My best friends whom I have worked with for longer than I care to recount are moving on as well. One to a different location within our hospital and another graduates soon with an advanced degree — her world opening up right before her eyes.
I stand on the ground — watching their flight. Remembering the days of my own migrations but knowing this is not my time. My internal alarms are quiet, not sensing the rhythms of energy which guide a soul to take to the wing.
I am a nesting bird these days. If not content, certainly settled in my habitat for now. A resident foul on my own personal pond.
But I miss the flock who leaves me. I am not alone, for sure, but the sound of each voice which departs — leaves a void. A vacuum in my world not so easily replaced as my own days upon this earth grow shorter.
One day change may come to my spirit as well and the urge to migrate may take me. Then I will take flight on my own adventure. That truth is more likely than not.
Because change. Because movement. Because life.