🪞 Ask Yourself:
- What does your body know about the systems you move through daily?
(Who they’re built for. Who they leave behind. Who they exhaust.)
- How have we normalised designing schools, workplaces, and cities that undermine wellbeing—then blamed individuals for burning out inside them?
- If wellbeing were a civic responsibility—not a personal indulgence—how would your leadership, your design, your policies, or your business shift?
🚶♀️Step Forward
🛠️ EXPERIMENT: Interrupt the Architecture
Choose one built environment, system, or workflow you move through daily—your calendar, your email etiquette, your tech stack, your meeting structure.
Then ask:
- Was this designed for thriving—or for throughput?
- Where is urgency built in? Where is dignity designed out?
Now, make one friction-level intervention—not to optimise it, but to interrupt its logic.
Some examples:
– Remove back-to-back meeting defaults
– Reclaim one hour with no Slack, no tasks, no justification
– Invite your team to name what’s draining vs nourishing
– Swap “catch up” blocks for “restorative space” on your calendar
The goal isn’t productivity. The goal is presence.
Interrupting is design. It’s where new pathways begin.
🌱 Small Challenge
⚡ This week’s Wellbeing Move: Trace the Wellbeing Gap
Pick one space you move through regularly—your workplace, your Slack thread, your local market, your family group chat.
Then ask:
– Where is wellbeing assumed—but not actually designed for?
– Who here gets to thrive? Who is just enduring?
– What kind of care is missing—and what would it take to make space for it?
You don’t need to fix it.
Just name it.
Because sometimes the most radical act is refusing to pretend it’s working.
Seeing the gap is how new systems begin.
WISDOM WHISPERER
The opposite of complexity is reductionism… not simplicity. Simplicity is complexity with grace.
Nora Bateson
Why this whisper? Because wellbeing isn’t a checklist—it’s a living web of rhythms, relationships, and interdependencies. Every time we flatten our wellbeing into solo habits or isolated metrics, we strip it of the richness it demands.
This is your reminder: True wellbeing requires embracing complexity with grace—not reducing it to something controllable. Systems that hold—not just scale.