I'm not suggesting we need constant stimulation or dramatic life changes. Instead, I believe that small creative disruptions to our routine can help us feel more interesting and interested, more engaged, know ourselves better, and fill our cup to have more to give to others.

Why do certain spaces make us feel immediately at ease, while others leave us subtly unsettled? As someone used to traveling and moving through countless public spaces, from sterile airport lounges that heighten anxiety to rural hotels and downtown cafés where time seems to expand, I've become increasingly curious about how intentional design shapes our internal landscape.

There's a paradox I've been sitting with lately: it takes tremendous energy to slow down. Counterintuitive, isn't it? We imagine slowness as some absence of effort, but I'm finding it's quite the opposite.

Minimalism isn’t just about aesthetics—it’s a lifestyle choice that invites simplicity and mindfulness into our environments. By intentionally reducing excess and curating meaningful elements, we create spaces that support mental clarity and calm.

This summer, I got to escape NYC at random occasions and without any agenda and headed to different towns across the Catskills area, and what I found there was more than just a few weekend retreats. It was a reset.

What if you seized the opportunity of the current downtime to travel in your own idiosyncratic way? We’ve cooked up a list of super useful tools to help you do just that.

Feeling uncreative, unproductive, and altogether uninspired?
Discover our list of tips to reignite the spark.

Feeling uncreative, unproductive, and altogether uninspired?
Discover our list of tips to reignite the spark.