The Awe-Walk Chronicles
I used to measure my days in a very specific kind of strength.
For a long time, I thought being strong meant being unstoppable and doing it all on my own. It was about how much I could carry, how fast I could move, and how far into the future I could plan. But then, a life-altering health journey stripped all of that away. When my body finally said “no,” the ground I was standing on didn’t just shake, it vanished.
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In that space of rebuilding, my definition of “well” had to change. I realised that the strength I really needed wasn’t about pushing harder; it was about the ability to be still, present and see what was in front of me.
Lately, I’ve been taking lessons from a much smaller, much more present mentor in that department. My daughter, Tilly.
A few weeks ago, we went for a walk. In the past, a walk to me had a destination and a pace. It was a way to get from Point A to Point B while staying productive (checking emails, replying to texts, writing to-do lists). But to Tilly, a walk is an adventure.
We hadn’t even made it to the next block before the “walk” came to a standstill.
Tilly had found a stick, not just any stick, but a very specific one that she immediately declared a magic wand. Within seconds, she started waving it around with total conviction, shouting “Abracadabra!” and turning everything in her path into her favorite animals.
In that moment, I felt that familiar, old itch to hurry her along or check my phone. I had a mental grocery list of a million things to do. But I looked at her, totally lost in this world she’d just built out of thin air, and I knelt down to her level instead. I leaned into the game. And for a second, the mental clutter evaporated.
The Science of the “Micro-Moment”
It sounds like a big, heavy concept, but emotional fitness is actually built on these tiny moments of Awe. When we experience wonder, whether it’s a vast landscape or the total creative absorption of a toddler, something incredible happens in our brains. Our “default mode network” (the part of the brain that rants about our fears and to-do lists) actually quietens down. We experience what’s called “the small self.”
When that self-focus shrinks, our connection to the world gets bigger. Our stress hormones dip. Our sense of peace rises.
Training the Muscle
Tilly doesn’t have to work at this. For her, wonder is a default setting. But for those of us who have faced seasons of burnout or health battles, awe is a muscle we have to intentionally re-train.
That’s why I’ve started practicing the Awe-Walk. It’s not about physical distance; it’s about internal expansion. It’s the practice of walking without a destination, of appreciating things you’ve passed a thousand times but never truly noticed, like the way the light hits the trees or the sound of morning birds.
It’s remembering that we don’t have to go to the ends of the earth to feel “elevated.” We just have to be present enough to notice the magic that’s already here.
More soon,
Jacqueline x
P.S. I’m currently deep in Phosphorescence by Julia Baird. It’s a beautiful exploration of how we find our own internal glow when things go dark. Highly recommend it if you’re looking for a weekend dive.
A Note on ELEVATE: As this brand starts to take shape, we are working hard to build the physical spaces where this kind of “re-training” can happen. We are currently developing our Retreats, Workshops, and Corporate Sessions, all designed to help you find your way back to that childlike sense of Awe. We can’t wait to share more soon.
