Building Wellbeing: Designing Spaces for Healing

Japan, one of the places known for its high longevity, is critically facing a demographic shift. As the aging population continues to grow, so too does the demand for thoughtful, well-designed spaces that support elderly care. Traditionally, caregiving was woven into the fabric of family life, often falling on the shoulders of female members in a patriarchal society. However, as a traditional big family structure largely dissolves and the nuclear family becomes the norm, elder care increasingly relies on social welfare services and specialized facilities.

Humans and pets have long shared a deep and inseparable bond—and today, how we live alongside them is becoming increasingly important. Beyond offering companionship, pets are now often regarded as life partners, providing powerful support for mental health and emotional well-being. Yet it is not only the emotional connection that matters: the way we design and curate spaces for cohabitation with them plays a critical role in shaping meaningful spatial relationships between humans and their animal companions.

The internal environment is the focus of this second article about designing for noise to improve well-being. According to several recent studies, noise in cities has become an increasing hazard to health. Environmental noise, that is, noise from traffic, industrial activities, or amplified music, which reaches internal spaces, is not merely an annoyance. It has been linked to cardiovascular disease, diabetes, dementia, and mental health issues. As the world urbanizes, more people are exposed to excessive levels of noise. In medium- and high-density housing, in office buildings, and in schools, noise pollution can emanate from internal as well as external sources.

As the global population continues to surge, cities become increasingly complex ecosystems, dense and bustling environments home to millions of people. Today, more than half of the world's population lives in cities, which is expected to grow dramatically in the coming decades. This rapid urbanization presents a complex set of challenges for the architects and planners tasked with creating spaces that can accommodate urban residents' lives.

Work always evolved, adapting to the tools, technologies, and social structures of its time. In the earliest human societies, basic survival was the driving force behind labor, with hunter-gatherers dividing essential tasks to meet elementar needs. The Agricultural Revolution marked a turning point, introducing permanent settlements and specialization, which led to the emergence of labor division in ancient civilizations. As time progressed, the Middle Ages saw the rise of the feudal system, while trade and guilds laid the groundwork for a monumental shift: the Industrial Revolution. This era transformed work from artisanal, home-based production to centralized, large-scale factory systems.

Around the world, different cultures have developed unique ways of understanding and experiencing healing. Far from being merely a physical process, healing encompasses emotional, spiritual, social, and architectural dimensions. Healing spaces—whether physical, symbolic, or natural—reflect each culture's values, beliefs, and ways of life. Exploring these cultural approaches not only broadens our perspective on health but also encourages us to reconsider how we design environments that nurture care and well-being.

A good conversation can make time feel like it's passing more quickly. But is this effect solely due to the verbal exchange, or could our perception of time be shaped by the spatial conditions surrounding us? There are environments that, due to their scale, distribution, and atmosphere, are conducive to meeting, listening, or pausing, thereby influencing the human experience. Perhaps it's not the words we share, but the space in which we speak that truly shapes our understanding of time. Some sociological theories about our society and the built environment go beyond considering it as a mere physical container and suggest that architecture, in its very duality, can act as both an inhibitor and a catalyst for our temporal experiences, impacting our wellbeing.

The term "biophilia" understandably conjures images of buildings engulfed by vegetation and integrated into natural landscapes. In modern architectural discourse, the concept has come to be associated with the incorporation of greenery into built environments, yet such applications represent only a sliver of biophilic design's true scope. Inarguably, nature plays a central role in biophilic design. However, its influence stretches to often-overlooked strategies that involve spatial configuration and environmental patterning. "Invisible" biophilia frequently leads to positive health outcomes for occupants, working impactfully beneath the surface.

How is it possible to achieve emotional well-being in public spaces? What role do public spaces play in promoting urban well-being? Considering that sports practices can be a vital component in creating healthy public spaces, skateboarding, one of the most globally recognized urban activities, offers an alternative for building opportunities for the physical, recreational, social, cultural, and even professional development of multiple generations.

As cities continue to grow and daily realities shift rapidly, people are turning to new and evolving ways to maintain their well-being. While promoting active lifestyles has long been a focus for many planners and architects, through pedestrian- and bike-friendly cities, parks, and fitness or sports centers, recent times have shown that these publicly valued facilities are not always accessible. A clear solution has emerged in recent years, accelerated by the global pandemic in 2020. Both homes and workplaces have begun to adapt their interior spaces, incorporating designated areas and equipment to support physical activity and provide opportunities for movement during the day.

According to several recent studies, noise in cities has become an increasing hazard to health. Environmental noise, that is, noise from traffic, industrial activities, or amplified music, which reaches internal spaces, is not merely an annoyance. It has been linked to cardiovascular disease, diabetes, dementia, and mental health. As the world urbanizes, more people are exposed to excessive levels of noise. How can urban design and architectural strategies help to prevent this?

Public spaces are more than just physical voids in the urban fabric—they are stages for social interaction, cultural expression, and collective memory. In times of social fragmentation and environmental stress, these spaces can serve as catalysts for healing, offering safe environments where communities can reconnect. Through thoughtful design and participatory processes, public space interventions can rebuild trust, promote mental well-being, and foster a renewed sense of belonging among community members.

Wellness and healing spaces are shaped by cultural traditions, geographical contexts, and social structures. Across the world, certain practices have been deeply rooted for centuries, like Roman baths, Turkish hammams, and Japanese onsens, while others evolve by drawing inspiration from rituals or redefining their own concept and image of a healing environment. Europe, North America, and Oceania are characterized by a focus on personal journeys, self-care, and often luxurious wellness spaces. Asia shapes the prevailing global perception of wellness through meditation-based healing, inner reflection, and holistic retreats. In Africa, wellness is deeply rooted in ancestral traditions, integrated with nature, and centered around community and social interaction. The commonality worldwide lies in sensory engagement, relaxation, and holistic healing, often tied to nature. But what does wellness look like in Africa? What are the healing spaces that shape it, and what architectural languages define wellness from north to south?

In contemporary urban development, the concept of Privately Owned Public Space (POPS) has gained increasing prominence. These are spaces that, while built, owned, and maintained by private developers, are legally required to remain publicly accessible. Often the result of negotiated planning incentives—such as zoning bonuses or increased floor area—POPS have become especially prevalent in dense urban environments where land is limited and demand for public amenities is high.

The intersection of architecture and medicine profoundly shaped modernist design, where transparency, light, and air became essential tools in the pursuit of health. Emerging from the tuberculosis crisis of the late 19th and early 20th centuries, the sanatorium evolved beyond a medical facility into a testing ground for architectural innovation. The necessity of fresh air, sunlight, and sterility transformed these spaces into prototypes for modernist principles, influencing spatial organization, material choices, and design philosophies that extended far beyond healthcare.

With modern medicine, it may be difficult for many people today to imagine the devastation caused by Tuberculosis (TB) just about 100 years ago. Initially associated with insalubrious, overcrowded conditions, just in Canada it caused the death of approximately 8000 people annually in the late 19th century.  During this time, before more advanced treatments were discovered, prescriptions from doctors involved sunlight, fresh air, and rest. As a response, sanatoria were established. These were places where patients could be separated from the community to manage their disease. One testament to that legacy stands in the heart of Montreal: the former Royal Edward Laurentian Institute, later known as the Montreal Chest Institute. Born from crisis, it has since become a symbol of resilience, transformation, and innovation, shifting from a space of isolation to a thriving hub for research and entrepreneurship in the life sciences.

Sometimes, the simplest solutions are the most revolutionary and impactful. During Brazil's energy crisis in 2002, mechanic Alfredo Moser developed an accessible and effective way to illuminate indoor spaces during the day. Using only a PET bottle installed on the roof, filled with water and bleach, he harnessed the refraction of sunlight to bring brightness to spaces previously immersed in darkness. In self-built homes, where successive extensions often compromise natural light and ventilation, this solution makes a significant difference. Named the "Moser lamp," the invention produces illumination equivalent to a 60W bulb and gained worldwide recognition through various reports. Since then, the project has continued to evolve and adapt to the needs of modern communities, transforming lives through a solution that is as simple as it is highly intelligent.