wild wonderful wondering
Vancouver Island 2026
It has been a while since I’ve written. I began this blog in the summer, and somehow, we are already into fall. Life has taken me in other directions—caring for elderly parents and experiencing the loss that comes with this season of life, celebrating my son’s wedding, and planning and teaching Qigong classes. Looking back, I realize my creative energy and need to write didn’t disappear; they simply found another expression. Much of my creative outpouring has come through preparing for and facilitating my Qigong classes. Perhaps this, too, is part of the rhythm of life—sometimes we create through words, and other times, through presence, movement, connection, and simply being with what is.
I did write and keep track of some of my discoveries along the way, but I simply didn’t have the bandwidth to articulate, organize, and share them in a cohesive way. Now, it feels like it’s time to write and share again. I can’t promise it will all be cohesive, though—this wondering may be a little winding and wild. I have no idea where this blog will lead, and perhaps that’s the beauty of it. Isn’t wondering part of wandering? It can take us to places we never expected to go, and perhaps, somewhere deep within our souls, we recognize the eternal and wonderful truth waiting to be discovered.
This is my wish for you, the reader: that somewhere in these words, something resonates and reminds you that wherever you are in life, you are okay. More than okay—you are a Wonder FULL being, whole and worthy, no matter what your mind, your circumstances, or your current season of life may tell you. Isn’t that wonderful? This isn’t about positive thinking or dismissing the hard times. It is about remembering, deep within, that you are made of star stuff—an infinite being of energy, light, and consciousness. So, let’s get wondering…
The word “wonderful” originates from the late Old English word wundorful, a compound formed by combining wonder (from the Old English noun wundor, meaning a marvelous thing or object of astonishment) and the suffix -ful(meaning "full of"). Literally translated, it means “full of wonder.”
I have been WONDERING… and it has been WONDERFUL. Not all of it, though. Some of it has been awful, painful, and deeply unsettling. My body, mind, and spirit have moved through sadness, grief, exhaustion, confusion, and anguish, alongside enormous gratitude, love, and joy—sometimes all at once.
Nature seems to guide me through. God guides me through. Love leads me through. And when I speak of Love, Nature, and God, I experience them as one and the same—part of something so mysterious, grand, and wonderful that words seem inadequate. Sometimes a tree, a lake, a bird, or the wind can say more than words ever could. They remind me of the continuity of life, its imperfect perfection, and our remarkable ability to grow and thrive through adversity and heartbreak.
These past few months have shown me this through the deaths of my precious Mom, Dad, my father-in-law, and my daughter’s dearest friend. These heart-rendering losses have reminded me—or perhaps guided me—to re-member. To remember who and what I am. To recognize that their lives continue around me: in the forests and lakes, the birds and butterflies, the rocks and feathers, the wind and rain, the sun and stars, the moon, the scents, the sounds, and all the moments of wonder and awe.
Grief cracks you wide open. And perhaps life, if we allow it, can crack us wide open even without grief.
Whatever comes, let it come. Keep your front door open and your back door open. Let life move through you. This is where the flow happens. This is where we meet the mystery. This is where we begin to remember who we really are.
Who are we? We are not what we do. I do hope, however, that what you do is fueled by passion and love—the gifts you were given to share. So, ask your heart. Have a conversation with it: “Hello, heart. How are you today? What do you need?” Qigong has shown me a beautiful path of listening and communicating with my body and the organs within it. It may seem strange at first, but it can also be deeply liberating, bringing clarity, lightness, and a greater sense of connection. There is no need to overanalyze, critique, or judge. Simply become curious and allow yourself to listen. Interestingly, modern research is increasingly recognizing the importance of the mind-body connection and its role in our overall well-being.
In Traditional Chinese Medicine and Qigong, we pay attention to the Five Element theory and the relationships between the elements, organs, and seasons. Summer belongs to the fire element and is associated with the heart and small Intestine. The heart is considered the “Emperor,” or ruler, of the body—a powerful Yin organ that needs to be protected from the people, experiences, and demands we expose it to. In the expansive, active Yang energy of summer, it is especially important to create moments of stillness and calm. Learning to do less instead of always doing more helps preserve our energy throughout the year and prevents exhaustion. Burnout can make it difficult to restore our vitality, so sometimes caring for ourselves means saying, “No, I can’t do this.” My candle needs tending before the flame is extinguished. We can keep relighting the candle, but there is only so much wick. We don’t want to wait until there is nothing left to burn.
Grief has placed me on a whole different time warp, and now, somehow, it’s Fall. The timing feels fitting, as TCM offers a beautiful way to understand how the seasons and organs relate and influence one another. Autumn belongs to the Metal element, pairing the lung with the large intestine—a season of refinement, release, and letting go. The lungs are seen as a first line of defense, receiving the energy of the outside world, and are also thought to hold our grief and sadness. To nourish ourselves through this season, we can cultivate inspiration, courage, confidence, and compassion. Paying attention to our energy matters in every season—not only in nature, but in the seasons of our lives.
How we re-energize is really quite simple. The ancients understood that the simplest truths often hold the greatest wisdom, yet we often overlook them as trite or cliché. In TCM and qigong, the body is understood to have its own natural intelligence and rhythm—one we can easily override through our thoughts, habits, and activities. Re-energizing begins by slowing down, breathing, listening to the body, and releasing what depletes us. Rather than doing more, we can learn to work with our natural flow of Qi and return to the wisdom that has always been within us.
What is the Tao and what does it have to do with wondering? The Tao (or Dao) is the fundamental, unnameable principle of the universe in East Asian philosophy. Translating literally to "the way" or "the path", it represents the natural order, the flow of life, and the source of all existence.
In Taoism, wondering is the gateway to alignment with the Tao because it requires letting go of rigid certainty and embracing the unknown.
The Tao Te Ching reminds us that mystery is a doorway to understanding. This idea feels deeply connected to wondering. The Tao cannot be fully defined or understood through the intellect alone. When we allow ourselves to wonder, we let go of the need to have all the answers and become willing to simply experience life as it unfolds.
Wondering also invites us into what Taoism calls the beginner’s mind—a state of curiosity, humility, and openness. Like the uncarved block, we become less attached to our assumptions and more receptive to what is in front of us.
Nature becomes a teacher here. The flow of water, the changing seasons, the opening of a flower, or the movement of the wind all happen without force. In observing nature, we begin to understand wu wei—the art of effortless action and allowing life to unfold in its own rhythm.
Perhaps most beautifully, wondering helps us loosen our grip on control. Instead of needing to know what will happen next, we become curious about what life might reveal. Worry can soften into wonder, resistance can become acceptance, and we can begin to trust the mystery rather than trying to control it. In this way, wondering becomes not a search for answers, but a way of being—open, curious, receptive, and alive to the unfolding mystery of life.
"To wonder is not to doubt. It is to be amazed at a mystery, fully real, that one feels is intelligible though beyond one's grasp."
This profound quote comes from the 20th-century French Catholic philosopher Jacques Maritain. It beautifully captures the essence of true wonder—not as intellectual skepticism, but as a deep and reverent appreciation for the underlying order and mystery of life, something we can feel even when we cannot fully define or understand it.
So, wonder on, beloveds. May your wondering nourish you, open your heart, and keep your Qi flowing abundantly.
May we all wander in wild wonder.
Blessings,
Donna
