I always find it hard to believe that her work which seems so "modern" was written in the 19th century.

People in the Middle Ages used to practice the art of sortes Virgilianae, which meant closing your eyes, flipping through Virgil's Aeneid, and letting your finger select a passage at random. Bibliomancy was a way of finding insight and guidance. I guess the Magic 8-Ball is our version of bibliomancy, but I prefer my volume of Dickinson's poetry. Despite never having gotten much out of her father's house, she has an understanding of the borderlands of human feelings that resonates with me, like some clever aunt who can say things much more pithily than I can. Keep a book of her poems around with you so that you can flip to a poem randomly every so often: you'll be surprised at the small treasures you'll unearth there.