John Coleman is not your average performance coach. A flow-state PhD and advisor to the elite athletes of Arc’teryx, he’s also an accomplished backcountry skier, surfer, and father. He’s spent decades studying the edges of human potential, and his client roster includes some of the world’s most high-performing—and high-risk—athletes. He’s friends with creative legends like Chris Benchetler and embodies a rare blend of science, soul, and mountain grit.
We met on a sunlit morning in Sooke, on the southern edge of Vancouver Island. With cortados in hand and the Pacific stretching before us, I expected a great conversation. What I didn’t expect was an interaction that would quietly shift my mindset—one of those rare encounters that nudges you just a few degrees off course, and somehow, points you toward something essential.
John’s current work centres around the concept of “wonder.” I’ll admit—at first, I was skeptical. The word felt a little too soft, too abstract. But that changed quickly.
“One of my clients was in a catastrophic accident and became a quadriplegic,” John told me. “Months later, he had scheduled his medically assisted death. But a week before that date, something unlocked in him. It was one word—‘wonder.’ That word saved his life.”
As John shared this, his voice faltered. His eyes welled up. He may be a scientist, but his heart is deeply, undeniably tethered to his work.
According to John, wonder exists on a spectrum. On the surface, it begins with curiosity. That simple act of questioning—of approaching both beauty and adversity with openness—can reshape how we see the world.
“Humans are quick to blame or shame—ourselves or others. But what if we just observed, noticed, listened, discerned… and stayed curious?”
In John’s framework, wonder is the opposite of judgment. It’s a posture of openness. A choice to meet life’s complexity—not with anxiety or certainty—but with receptivity. This mindset, he says, can fundamentally alter how we engage with challenge, grief, or even opportunity.
One layer deeper, we encounter what most of us recognize as awe. This is the kind of wonder that happens to us—when we’re stunned by the stars, or a sunset, or an act of heroism. It’s visceral, spontaneous, and overwhelming. “Awestruck” is the right word. You’re struck by something bigger than yourself.
But the deepest layer of John’s work—what he calls Deep Wonder—goes even further. It’s not something you wait for. It’s something you cultivate. Practiced. Chosen. Created.
Deep Wonder lives at the razor’s edge between fear and love—on literal or metaphorical cliffs. It shows up in the seconds before a leap, the moments after surviving something extreme, and in the quiet, vibrating aftermath. According to John, this is where many of the world’s top athletes operate. They’re not chasing adrenaline. They’re chasing connection—to something more expansive.
“Deep Wonder isn’t awe that happens to you,” John says. “It’s a state you train yourself to enter. It’s the result of meeting risk with presence. Of choosing curiosity over control.”
What’s powerful about Deep Wonder is that it leaves a residue—what John calls “remnants.” These remain with us, quietly reshaping how we see our own stories. With these remnants, we begin to navigate life not as a set of problems to solve, but as a field of potential. We stop seeing knots as dead-ends and begin to see them as portals.
The truth is—life is hard. It’s full of knots. But we can meet it with dread, or we can meet it with wonder. And that choice changes everything.
The takeaway? Be curious. Cultivate awe. Seek challenge. And most importantly, meet life—its hardship and its beauty—with a sense of Deep Wonder.
You can explore more of John’s work and philosophy at FreeFlow Practice, where he offers insights, coaching, and tools for those seeking to live, lead, and perform from a deeper place.