Wonder: At the Intersection of Fragility and Possibility

Last week in Jackson Hole, Wyoming, I found myself returning again and again to a feeling I want to consciously seek more often: wonder.

Not excitement. Not achievement. Not certainty.

Wonder.

That sense of encountering something larger than ourselves—something that stretches our ordinary ways of understanding who we are and how we belong within the world.

Psychologists describe wonder and awe as emotions that arise when we encounter something vast, something that expands our perspective and challenges our assumptions. Research suggests that experiences of awe can quiet self-preoccupation, increase generosity, foster curiosity, deepen our sense of connection, and enhance meaning and well-being.

Perhaps wonder feels so restorative because it reminds us that our individual lives are small in the context of the universe, yet capable of participating in something profoundly meaningful.

Wonder belongs to our uniquely human capacity to create, collaborate, imagine, and continually extend what is possible. It invites an appreciation that beauty, connection, and contribution often exceed our ability to measure them.

During my week in Jackson Hole, wonder seemed to appear everywhere I turned.

Butterflies, Belonging, and Conditions for Flourishing

At the Grand Butterfly Gathering, ACL™ Global partnered with The Trueness Project to celebrate connection, beauty, and our shared humanity.

The weather was cold, wet, and windy—far from ideal conditions for butterflies.

During our live ACL™ gathering, participants from around the world watched as I held butterflies in my hands and carried them to the shelter of a nearby tree until conditions improved.

There was something profoundly moving about holding such delicate beauty and recognizing how much flourishing depends upon the conditions surrounding us.

A butterfly that cannot yet fly because the conditions are wrong. It felt like a metaphor for being human. Often growth isn’t about trying harder. It is about finding the right environment. The right relationships. The right community. The right conditions in which to unfold.

How often do we interpret our struggles as personal shortcomings when perhaps what we need is greater support, understanding, or belonging?

Perhaps flourishing is less about becoming someone different and more about discovering where and with whom we can become more fully ourselves.

When Stories Take Flight

Wonder appeared in another unexpected form during the launch celebration for Wings of Purpose: How Vision and Intention Propel Success.

For a brief moment, my chapter appeared on a screen in Times Square.

Seeing my face, my words, and this message about Awareness, Courage, and Love displayed in one of the world’s most recognizable places felt surreal—not because of visibility itself, but because it represented something larger.

Twenty-one authors coming together to share stories of resilience, purpose, loss, leadership, hope, and possibility. Stories of pain transformed into meaning. Stories gathered together and released into the world with the hope that they might accompany others through difficult seasons.

The hope behind the book is simple.

That readers standing at a crossroads, rebuilding after loss, searching for meaning, or sensing a call toward something greater might find encouragement and companionship within its pages.

Perhaps wonder emerges when we recognize that our individual stories can become part of something much larger than ourselves.

That what we have lived through may one day offer guidance, comfort, or inspiration to someone we may never meet.

Wonder in the Presence of Nature

And then there was Yellowstone National Park. I watched Old Faithful erupt—steam and pressure hidden beneath the earth until they burst skyward.

Nature has a remarkable way of repositioning us within the vastness of time and existence. We are reminded that beauty exists independently of our accomplishments, our productivity, or our certainty about what comes next.

Mountains endure. Geysers continue their ancient rhythms. Wildlife moves through landscapes that have existed long before us and will continue long after we are gone.

Perhaps this is why wonder can leave us feeling both smaller and larger at the same time.

More humble.

And more alive.

It reminds us that we are participants in something far greater than ourselves.

And yet our lives matter deeply within that larger whole.

An Invitation to Notice Wonder

Wonder is not reserved for extraordinary trips, breathtaking landscapes, or once-in-a-lifetime experiences. It can appear in music. In art. In conversation. In acts of kindness. In watching someone discover their own strength. In witnessing courage.

In being fully present to beauty that might otherwise pass unnoticed.

Wonder may not remove life’s difficulties. It does not erase uncertainty or eliminate pain.

But it can help us remember that even amidst complexity, there is still beauty to witness, mystery to encounter, and meaning waiting to be noticed.

And perhaps that remembering helps us live more fully. With greater appreciation. Greater openness. And greater gratitude for this brief and extraordinary opportunity to be alive.

Some Questions to Contemplate

If these questions resonate, perhaps your heart can sit with them:

When was the last time you experienced wonder?
What helped you feel it?
Was it found in nature, art, music, a conversation, an act of kindness, or an unexpected moment of connection?
What might change if you treated wonder not as a rare occurrence, but as something important to notice and cultivate?
What conditions help your own spirit unfold and take flight?