The Power of an Inspiring Environment: How to Shape Our Space for Self-Growth

Have you ever walked into a room and instantly felt calm, inspired, or recharged — as if the space itself understood what you needed at that moment? I’ve had that feeling a few times, and it’s stayed with me. Over time, I’ve come to believe that the environment we live and work in isn’t just a backdrop. It’s an active participant in our growth, shaping our mindset, our emotions, and even the rhythm of our everyday lives.

In my own journey of self-growth, I’ve noticed how much the spaces around me affect how I think, feel, and create. I’ve come to appreciate the power of intentional environments — not grand or perfect ones, but thoughtful, personal ones. The kind of space where your mind feels safe to wander, where you feel both anchored and free.

And the truth is, creating that kind of environment doesn’t mean starting from scratch or making dramatic changes. Sometimes, it’s the smallest shifts that make the biggest difference — clearing a corner, bringing in something meaningful, or letting go of what no longer serves you.

Learning to Listen to Your Environment

When I slow down and really pay attention, I notice how much my surroundings shape my energy. A cluttered desk tends to mirror my anxious thoughts. A quiet, light-filled room helps me breathe more deeply. When I’m surrounded by beauty — a favourite book, a postcard from a friend, a plant that’s somehow still alive — I feel more like myself.

Our environments speak to us in subtle ways. They can encourage reflection, inspire action, or invite rest. They can hold space for healing or spark creativity. And in many ways, they also reflect what we believe we deserve.

What Changed for Me

At one point, I realised I was always pushing forward — constantly teaching, producing, delivering. I’d been working non-stop for six years, moving through university roles in Leeds, Reading, Durham, and Glasgow. I was proud of my work, but also tired. Drained, even. I’d given so much that I forgot what it felt like to receive — to learn, to rest, to recalibrate.

This year, I allowed myself to slow down. I stepped away from teaching and entered a new environment — another university, a new degree, a different circle of thinkers and creators. It was like walking into a new room, mentally and physically. And suddenly, I felt a shift. I could breathe again. I was absorbing more than outputting. My space — both around me and within me — began to change.

Small Shifts, Big Impact

As I moved through this slower, more intentional season, I started to make small changes in my physical environment that mirrored the internal ones. I let go of things I didn’t need. I added objects that made me feel grounded — a candle, a sketchbook, a photo from a trip that made me feel brave. I noticed which corners invited me to write, and which ones made me anxious. And slowly, I began to create spaces that supported the version of myself I was becoming.

It wasn’t just about what looked nice — it was about how it all made me feel. I played music that helped me focus, opened the window more often, and lit incense when I needed to reset. I let my space become a reflection of who I wanted to be — calm, curious, open.

The People Around You Matter, Too

While our physical spaces matter, so do our social ones. I began reaching out to people outside my usual circle — those in neuroscience, psychology, design, and even tech. I joined conversations that stretched my thinking. I listened more than I spoke. That experience reminded me how much we need perspectives outside our own fields to grow well. We’re not meant to grow in isolation.

The more I surrounded myself with new energy — new people, new environments, new ideas — the more I felt myself come back to life. I became more open, more creative, and more aligned with who I want to be as a researcher, educator, and human being.

Letting Your Environment Evolve With You

Environments are not static. They’re allowed to evolve — just like we do. You don’t need a perfect home, a fancy office, or a big budget to make a difference. You need presence. You need intention. And maybe a little curiosity about what small shift might invite more calm, more focus, or more joy into your day.

As I move forward, I want to hold onto this lesson: that spaces — both inner and outer — deserve care. That we can choose to make them more nurturing, more inspiring, more alive. And that in doing so, we become more alive too.

We grow better when we grow gently. And sometimes, all it takes is rearranging a corner to remember who we really are.