“We shape our buildings; thereafter they shape us.”
— Winston Churchill
From the moment we wake up to the time we drift off to sleep, our environment holds us. It cushions us, pressures us, mirrors us.
But just as we design our spaces, so too do they design the rhythms of our mood, our energy, and our ability to feel safe. And sometimes, without noticing, we find ourselves bracing - against noise, clutter, pressure, or absence.
The conversation around mental health often points inward: mindset, trauma, cognition, biology. But what about what’s around us?
The subtle and constant influence of light, space, air, noise, mess, order, and human tone?
Let’s step back and notice what we’re stepping into.
The Spaces We Live In
Our homes are supposed to be our sanctuaries.
But a sanctuary can feel more like a holding cell when clutter, chaos, or even emotional tension lingers in the air.
Research shows that disorganized spaces increase cortisol levels, a stress hormone that heightens anxiety and reduces our capacity for emotional regulation.
One 2010 study found that people who described their homes as “cluttered” or full of “unfinished projects” were more likely to feel fatigued and depressed by day’s end.
But this isn’t just about mess. It’s about alignment. Do we feel connected to our space? Is it ours? Is it functional?
Is it a place where we can decompress, reflect, feel safe, or does it silently echo our stress back to us?
Sometimes, reclaiming a corner of stillness in a noisy house is an act of mental health.
The Places We Work
Modern workspaces are often designed for productivity, not people. Open-plan offices can increase distraction and reduce feelings of privacy.
Harsh lighting, impersonal walls, constant pinging it all adds up.
Yet, we rarely speak of the psychological toll of sitting in a grey cubicle for eight hours while pretending our brains are machines.
Remote workers are not exempt either. The collapse of boundaries between home and work can erode both. When your kitchen table is your desk, your body never fully lands in either space.
The environment sets the tone, and that tone sets your nervous system.
Are you working in a space that makes you breathe easier? Or one that makes your shoulders tense?
The People Around Us
Our relationships, too, are part of our environment. Their energy, rhythms, and responses mold our internal world.
A supportive partner, housemate, or coworker can regulate our nervous system with a glance or a gesture. On the other hand, chronic stress from relational tension, silent coldness, microaggressions, emotional volatility, can activate the same fight-or-flight response as physical danger.
Mirror neurons in our brain are designed to synchronize with those around us. When we’re surrounded by calm, kindness, or laughter, we absorb it.
When we’re surrounded by tension, sarcasm, or instability, we absorb that too.
Mental health is not built in isolation, it is shaped in resonance.
Inside and Out
There is something primitive in our connection to the outdoors.
A walk in nature, a window cracked open to let in air, even the sensation of sunlight across your face these things shift us at the biological level.
Studies in environmental psychology consistently show that time spent in green or blue spaces reduces anxiety, improves attention, and lowers blood pressure.
The Japanese practice of shinrin-yoku (forest bathing) is backed by evidence: simply being in a forested environment lowers cortisol and activates the parasympathetic nervous system.
Compare that to hours indoors under fluorescent lights, bombarded by screens. Without natural rhythms, our bodies and brains can lose their tether. Circadian rhythms drift. Mood shifts. Sleep degrades.
Sometimes, the most radical act of self-care is to step outside and look up.
A Person-Centred Lens
We are not passive recipients of our environment, we are co-creators with it.
The person-centered approach invites us to check in with our felt experience:
How do I feel in this room? In this office? With these people?, In this chair, under this light, hearing this background noise?
What does my body tell me that my thoughts haven’t yet caught up with?
Mental health is not just in our head, it is in our spaces, our air, our light, and our soundscape.
And when we become aware, we can begin to shift: rearrange a room, speak our needs, seek green space, create boundaries, or simply pause and breathe.
A Practice: The Environmental Reset
Wherever you are right now, take one minute.
1. Look around. What do you notice first?
2. Listen. What sounds are shaping your attention?
3. Breathe. What does the air feel like?
4. Now ask: What is one small thing I can do to make this space more supportive of my wellbeing?
Sometimes, mental health starts with moving a chair. Or opening a window. Or naming what’s off. Because we are not just minds, we are mammals. And our environment still matters.