In life's darkest corners, rituals of hope flicker like steady lanterns. These aren't grand ceremonies, but rather small, intentional acts we perform to keep faith alive when circumstances tempt us toward despair.
Hope rituals anchor us to possibility. The journal entry that begins "When this passes..." The empty chair kept at the table during separation. The workspace maintained during illness. These quiet ceremonies aren't denial—they're brave declarations that the story isn't finished.
Rituals don’t guarantee outcomes, but they do remind us that we have the capacity to envision them. In this way, the simple act of watering a plant, saving a seat, or lighting a candle becomes a statement: darkness, sadness or disappointment does not get the final word.
