Hope lives in the little things; the quiet starts, the small steps, the gentle rhythms.

Hope is always alive, though it’s not always loud or obvious. Lately, it’s been quietly walking beside me. I find it in my morning rituals, in the rhythm of a favorite song, and in those fleeting conversations that remind me we’re not as disconnected as we sometimes feel.

Sometimes hope is as small as a flicker of belief in what’s still possible. I’ve come to recognize it more, to sit with it, and to let it guide me forward. And more than anything, I’ve learned to protect it. To water it through writing, through connection, and through the simple act of paying attention. Nourishing hope whenever I feel its presence.

Whatever this day brings, may we each take a moment to recognize the hope already living within us and give it the care it deserves.