It’s the start of February, and while the world made its resolutions weeks ago, I didn’t. No grand declarations. No forced commitments. Instead, I’ve been sitting with something quieter—the art of deciding.
Not once. Not just at the start of the year. But as a practice. A way of meeting my life, moment by moment, and asking: If I were choosing this again, would I?
What lands for me about this approach is it isn’t about fixing or striving. It’s about choosing—fully, consciously, and with the twinkling curiosity of expansion.
The life I am IN isn’t built on autopilot. It’s built by deciding. Again and again.
What if I decided everything again?
Not just the obvious things—work, relationships, where I live. But the quiet, sneaky things. The stories I tell myself. The rhythms of my days. The roles I play without even realizing it.
I used to think big change happened in bursts—new work, moving countries, life pivots. But lately, I see it differently. Change isn’t a moment. It’s a practice. It’s the willingness to sit with your life, look it in the eye, and ask: Would I still choose this?
That question is thrilling. And terrifying. Because when you ask it honestly, some things don’t survive.
This is where it gets real.
Deciding Again: The Courage to Let Go
I used to hold onto things because I thought I had to—commitments, ways of being, even identities that no longer fit. Yet, when I understand that my past doesn’t own me. I get to decide again.
And so do you.
That’s what I want to offer here—not some abstract concept, but a real, living, breathing practice. One that I am in, right now on February 1, 2025.
I’ve been reading The Last Word on Power by Tracy Goss, and one of the core ideas in the book is this: We are only as free as we allow ourselves to be.
Let that land for a second.
The limits we experience? So many of them aren’t real. They’re inherited. Learned. Reinforced by repetition. And the second we realize that—we become dangerous. Because we can choose something different.
But my mind fights it. It whispers, Aren’t you grateful for what you have? Why want more Hope?
Can I Be Grateful and Still Want More?
There’s an old story I was taught—that if we want more, we’re somehow ungrateful. Bah to that. Gratitude and desire are not enemies. I see them as soulmates.
Gratitude roots us in presence. It lets us see and appreciate where we are. But desire—desire is the thing that pulls us forward.
Shouldn’t I just be happy with what I have? But then I realized—I am. I love my life. I am beyond grateful. And because I love it, I want to keep growing it. Expanding it. That’s what life does.
And that means asking: Is what I’m building truly mine? Or is it a dream I’ve inherited from someone else?
What’s Yours vs. What’s Theirs
I have spent so much of my life filtering my choices through the lens of what should make sense. What others might approve of. And I’ve gotten really good at knowing what people expect of me.
But this process—this deciding again—it’s breaking something open.
Because when I slow down, when I get still, I can feel the difference between what is mine and what I’ve been carrying for others.
And that difference? It changes everything.
When I feel what is truly mine, I don’t need to hustle for it. I don’t need to prove anything. It’s not a chase. It’s a creation. Which brings me to something I’ve been learning the hard way…
Satisfaction and Ambition Can Coexist
I used to believe ambition came from restlessness. From a hunger for more. But that’s not it.
The most powerful growth doesn’t come from chasing. It comes from knowing.
I’m learning that I don’t have to choose between deep contentment and big dreams. I can be wildly at peace and wildly in motion. Both.
I don’t need to feel like something is missing in order to create something extraordinary. I can love my life as it is and stretch into something bigger.
Living On Purpose vs. Living By Default
So much of life happens on autopilot. Routines. Roles. Patterns. And for a long time, I let momentum carry me.
But I’m not interested in that anymore.
I am committed to living on purpose. I want to know that every choice I’m making—how I spend my time, what I build, what I say yes and no to—is mine. Not a script I inherited.
And I have to tell you—this process? It’s not comfortable. It’s raw. But I would rather sit in the discomfort of waking up than the numbness of sleepwalking through my life.
And one of the biggest shifts I’ve felt? It’s moving from scarcity into anticipation.
Anticipation Over Scarcity
I used to grip things tightly, afraid that if I let go, I wouldn’t get more. But I’ve learned something radical:
Life keeps meeting me where I am.
Every time I’ve released something—an old belief, a way of being—what’s next has always arrived.
Scarcity tells us to cling. But anticipation? Anticipation is trust.
Trust that expansion is always on its way.
Letting Go to Let More In
Who I was last year—five years ago—that Hope got me here. But she is not the one who will take me where I’m going next.
And that’s true for you, too.
We hold on to old versions of ourselves because they feel safe. But real transformation happens when we loosen our grip. When we trust that the next version of us—the one waiting just beyond the edge of the known—is worth stepping toward.
So I’m asking you what I’ve been asking myself, over and over this year:
If you were deciding again, right now—what would you choose? And are you brave enough to choose it?
A Simple Practice: Deciding to Want What You Already Have
I want to offer you a practice—one that’s been reshaping how I see my own life.
It’s simple, but don’t mistake that for small. The way we hold what we already have changes everything about what we create next.
Here’s how it works:
Write down what you already have that you once deeply wanted.
The relationships, the home, the work, the freedoms—big or small. The things that, at one point, were just a dream.Now, decide to want them again.
Not just to appreciate them, but to actively want them. To see them with fresh eyes. Because when we choose to want what we already have, we live in a state of fullness, not longing.Next, add to this list: what you want and don’t yet have.
But here’s the key—write it from a place of anticipation, not lack.
Instead of “I don’t have this yet,” try:I can’t wait to experience this.
This is unfolding for me.
I am growing into the person who holds this.
Why does this matter?
Because the energy we bring to wanting changes how we receive.
If we frame desire as something missing, we stay in scarcity. But if we frame it as something expanding—something already on its way—our whole posture shifts.
This isn’t about forcing positivity. It’s about training your mind and body to live in sufficiency, while stretching into expansion.
Try this for a few days. Notice how it feels to want what you have. Notice how it shifts the way you hold what’s ahead.
And if you do? Let me know what opens up.
Hope Sparks Spotlight
The photos in this post are by Kristine Cofsky of Convergence Studio. I’ve had the honour of collaborating with her to support my clients amplify their spark in storytelling and photography. Her ability to translate vision into imagery and storytelling is nothing short of magic. Check out her and partner Devon’s latest collab with me: Lost River.
Yes, it’s a new retreat spot I’ll be offering Hope events in 2025!
See you next week. If you enjoyed this read, please invite your friends.
In your corner,
With love,
Hope
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