Hope

Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune--without the words,
And never stops at all,

And sweetest in the gale is heard;

And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.

I've heard it in the chillest land,
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.

Although Emily Dickinson is not one of my favorite poets, this poem has been running through my mind the past month. For some reason these few stanzas that I read in high school creeped into the back of my head and won't go away.Oddly enough, I'm not complaining. Hope has been the one thing I've been able to hold on to through anything, and I've needed it the past few weeks.

Life has been crazy. I am so lucky to have TWO amazing jobs in this economy, but to say it is overwhelming is an understatement. I've always been a perfectionist who does everything 110%. But, throw an extra job in there and I feel like I'm running around with my head chopped off because there are not enough hours in the day to do everything. The dishes usually aren't done. The laundry is all over the floor. And, the mail is stacking up on the counter. My amazing mother-in-law brought me a gallon of milk and I wanted to cry tears of gratitude because I hadn't been to the grocery store in a week. 

There have been a few times when the stress comes out in the form of tears (thanks for that mom!). I just hold on to the thought of that thing with feathers that perches in the soul. I like birds well enough, but even better than that is my new (not so) tiny (anymore) kitten, Pi.He is usually sweet and adorable.

How can you not love a face like that?