I Wonder...

May 29, 2026

If we’ve chatted over the past few months, there’s a good chance you’ve heard me talk about Dr. John Coleman. He’s a fascinating guy, and I’ve had the pleasure of working with him in connection to the work he’s doing with major international brands like Arc’teryx.

It’s actually difficult to explain exactly what John does. He might be the only performance psychologist on the planet with a PhD in “Wonder”… and surprisingly some very serious global organizations are paying attention.

At first glance, the idea of embedding “wonder” into a high-performing culture sounds a little abstract, maybe even indulgent. But it turns out the impact of his work is anything but.

What John is uncovering has profound implications not only for human wellbeing, creativity and connection, but also for leadership, innovation and performance.

After spending time with John in planning sessions on the West Coast last month, I found myself getting a little philosophical on the flight home. Maybe because I realized how rarely we leave space for curiosity and awe in leadership conversations anymore.

So I figured I’d share a thought or two here.

My goal? I’m not entirely sure. Maybe just to instill a little wonder into your day.

The world feels increasingly obsessed with explaining, measuring, controlling and reducing everything around us. In the process, I think we’re forgetting how to simply stand still in the presence of something we don’t fully understand.

But wonder remains available to us, if we’re paying attention. It lives in small places: the sound of rain, a blade of grass, the face of someone you love, a meaningful conversation, a mountain view that makes you feel small in the best possible way.

And somehow, it’s also expansive enough to hold the biggest things imaginable: the stars, the ocean, the history of the universe, and our brief moment inside it.

Wonder can hold joy and grief. Beauty and suffering. Creativity and destruction. Fear and love. In fact, it may be one of the only things large enough to hold all of it at once. And I think this matters more than we realize.

Because without wonder, we become certain. Narrow. Cynical. We stop asking questions. We stop noticing. We stop being astonished by life itself.

Perhaps wonder isn’t a luxury reserved for children, artists, explorers and astronauts.

Perhaps it’s a survival skill.

A reminder that even in a world that can feel fractured, noisy and unresolved, there are still things worthy of awe. Worthy of curiosity. Worthy of tenderness and hope.

So give it a try.

Next time you, your team or your organization feels stuck, or confronted by one of life’s knots, just say the words:

“I wonder…”