Hope and Wonder

Wonder is not exactly knowing.

“The world is full of poems,” Mary Oliver said, “but you have to be quiet to hear them.”

An important lesson for humans who all too often thrive on noise. Strategic thinking and commercialism abound, but all too often, we don't consider curiosity and wonder.

“Hope” is 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.

What do you think this poem is about? Is it literally about a bird? What do we think about as we read Emily Dickinson's poem? What does it make us wonder about? Flying and singing songs? What if it isn't at all about a bird, but rather an untangible, untouchable feeling of hope?

What, then, is hope?

Is it to wish for your life to be better? Is it to feel more? Or less?

Let's think about the beauty that is around us. What in nature gives you hope and why?

A child's answer: Seashells because they are beautiful and it feels like the ocean is surprising you with a gift when you find one.

An acorn starts small but grows into a big, strong oak tree. I want to be like that when I grow up.

What is hope to you? I’d love to hear about it.