Crying with the Chickens

Life gets heavy sometimes, ya know? Whether it’s the inside stuff—health scares, family stress—or the outside chaos like, oh I don’t know, the insane state of our world or our charming HOA being ridiculous (again), it all piles up. And some days, it’s just too much. My heart feels like it’s carrying a drogue stone, and I need a way to let it out.

Journaling? Not for me—traumatized by the time my mom read my diary (never recovered). Primal screaming in the woods? Uh-uh, that sounds like a horror movie setup. And chatting with an AI about my deepest, most vulnerable feelings? Nah, I’ll pass.

So I go cry with the chickens.

When everything feels like too much, I head out to the coop. I sit in the sun, feel the breeze, and just watch my fluffy little flock scratch around like the world isn’t on fire. And no, it doesn’t magically fix everything. But somehow, it does help. The quiet clucking, the soft rustle of feathers, the occasional gentle pecks to my feet—it all works like a balm on my soul.

Do chickens heal a hurting heart? Not exactly. But holding my favorite hen in my lap, stroking her soft feathers while she coos softly, brings a quiet kind of peace. The pain doesn’t vanish, but love starts to crowd it out—one peck, one soft cluck at a time.

It might sound cheesy but I don’t care.

If you’re a fellow tender-hearted, deeply-feeling human just trying to survive the chaos, find your thing. Whether it’s chickens, crochet, crossword puzzles, or crying into a cup of tea—whatever gives you peace, grab it. The world’s heavy enough. Spend time in your happy place.