The thing with feathers

“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. 

(Emily Dickinson)

I suppose this isn't the most original blog post idea - an Emily Dickinson poem.... but it still means the world to me: HOPE! When your hopes are dashed, all you have left is hope.... and the only direction left to go, that makes any sense at all, is still forward. When your old dreams are all but dead and buried, it seems that all there is, other than wallowing, is new. 

And that is really the point here: new. New at 42. I just turned 42 a couple weeks ago. It was an easier birthday than the last few were, I suppose. I didn't let myself get anxious about it this year. It did make me think quite a bit though, especially as I spent many hours in road travel over my birthday week. The road is a mighty fine time to do some good thinkin'. I've known a while now that it's time to bury a big huge dream - one that held many dreams within that broken dream - and reconcile with my present reality, all while trying not to be so terrified of the unknown future. In the midst of all of this whirling through my 42 year old brain, it occurred to me that new... new is what I need. Not a new me, the old me is generally okay... the old me has some good things going on, but the old me - well, it's time she rediscovers a spirit of newness.

I argued with myself about this idea because I'd rather sit in my chair and be depressed about all that cannot be, but I felt a strong urging to issue myself - and accept - a challenge to seek out and appreciate the new. I've felt a need to actively remember that life is as beautiful as it is harsh - and to keep moving forward.

So, the challenge: do 42 new things before I turn 43. They do not need to be big or profound, though they might be. They can easy or hard. They can be silly or even edible. They can even be old... as in things I haven't done in three or so decades. Basically, they just have to be within the spirit of newness.

I also have to document these things, because it's the only way I will stay accountable. This is particularly important because I honestly don't want to do this. It sounds too big and I feel that everything I've tried in the last several years has been a massive failure. I'd much prefer to dwell on what I can't have - and wonder why practically everyone else gets to have what I can't have. Yet I don't want to continue to prefer that, so here I am, starting a new blog to signify this new start. Here we go!