Wonderfuel Issue Number 6 – Start enjoyneering your life

Enjoyneering is the opposite of striving.

It’s not about chasing joy as a future reward.

It’s about designing a life that feels good now.

On purpose.

Enjoyneering means shaping your days so joy has room to show up.

Choosing how you live, not just what you achieve.

It asks one brave question:

“Is this life actually enjoyable?”

Joy isn’t something you arrive at.

It’s something you architect.

And the best part?

You don’t need a new life to start.

Just a better way of choosing inside the one you’ve got.

That’s enjoyneering.

// Quote of the week //

This week, the quote is actually one of mine.

Vibe is what remains when no one’s watching.

It’s how you show up, how you speak, what you tolerate and what you celebrate.

It’s not performance.

It’s resonance.

When your vibe is honest, warm and intentional, it becomes a signal.

The right people feel it and lean in.

The wrong ones drift away and that’s part of the magic.

Because when you’re aligned, you stop chasing.

You start attracting.

If you build the vibe you believe in,

your tribe will find you.

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// The founder diary //

There’s a concept called the Hedgehog Concept.

It’s built on a simple idea:

Greatness isn’t about doing more.

It’s about doing one thing exceptionally well.

The hedgehog commits to one big thing.

The fox chases many.

At its heart, the Hedgehog Concept sits where passion, excellence and sustainability meet.

Looking back, I didn’t discover my hedgehog.

It’s been there all along.

My hedgehog is of course, joy.

Joy was never the reward.

It was the compass.

Even when life got louder and business got harder, joy kept nudging.

Until I realised something simple:

The life I wanted to live, the work I wanted to do and the people I wanted around me all sat at the intersection of joy.

That’s my hedgehog.

Not joy as a destination.

Joy as a way of living.

And when you build around it, things get clearer.

You stop chasing.

You start attracting.

So, what is your hedgehog?

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// The joyful brand – Innocent Drinks //

For me, Innocent Smoothies is one of the most quietly joyful brands around. It understands that joy doesn’t need to shout, it just needs to feel human.

Its tone of voice is its superpower. Honest, playful, a little bit daft and never trying too hard. Those tiny lines of copy on the bottle? They’re not decoration. They’re moments of connection, little smiles slipped into everyday life.

Innocent’s design feels kind before you’ve even taken a sip. Soft colours, friendly shapes, nothing intimidating. It says, “You’re alright. We’ve got you.”

And then there’s the humour. Gentle, self-aware, never at your expense. Joy that feels like a nudge, not a punchline.

Innocent’s magic is in the ordinary. A smoothie on the way to work. A banana you forgot to eat. A moment of lightness in a busy day.

It doesn’t pretend to change the world. It just makes your day a bit nicer.

Joy, for Innocent, is simple, honest and quietly uplifting, the kind that leaves you feeling better than you were before.

// From the archives – ACRO Aircraft Seating //

The aviation seating world is obsessed with hygiene factors.

Comfort. Durability. Maintainability. Cost.

Important? Yes. Inspiring? Not even slightly.

That’s where Acro does things differently.

Instead of obsessing over the seat as an object, with Acro I flipped the perspective.

I asked a more human question:
What if we designed the space around the person?

From that thinking came a powerful new idea, fitting the space around the human.

Not squeezing humans into products, but shaping environments that respect how people actually sit, move and feel.

This shift unlocked a new positioning: We are Spatialists.

Experts not just in seats, but in space itself.

Suddenly, Acro wasn’t limited to aircraft cabins.

They were thinking bigger. Broader. Braver.

Opening the cabin door to opportunities across entirely new sectors where space, comfort and human experience matter.

Less product thinking.

More human thinking.

Acro.

Not seat makers.

(Side note: the small human featured in the image is my son, Max, aged 7. He made his professional modelling debut, took his role very seriously… and was duly paid for his cameo.)

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