Ignite Curated Spaces by Creating Environments That Inspire

Yesterday was a HUGE day that marked a significant milestone—365 days since the birth of the Wild Wellness Blog. One full orbit around the sun of writing, sharing and breathing life into this sacred space. What began as a gentle whisper has grown into a resonant roar of ritual, reflection and realness. (Click here to read more about that celebration—it sure is a special share.)

Today, I find myself nestled in my cozy writing nook. Essential oils gently diffuse their calming scents, a soft playlist hums in the background and glimpses of sunlight attempts to peek through the blinds. Outside, the gentle fall of rain adds a calm, soothing rhythm, offering a tender stillness to this space. Wrapped in a cozy mink blanket, nursing a head-cold I know will soon pass, I cradle a healing drink in my hands—warm ginger, lemon, honey and a dash of turmeric. Raindrops continue to fall softly, adding to the serenity, as if nature herself is whispering rest and renewal.

This space may not be fancy, but it sure is intentional.
That is what makes it sacred.
That is what makes it work.

Reflecting on this past year, it’s clear that none of this would have unfolded as it has without the environments I have intentionally created—the spaces, both physical and emotional, that granted me the freedom to show up authentically.

Yesterday marked more than a milestone.
It marked a year of words, rituals, vulnerability, creativity, consistency and heart.

When I reflect on how all of this has come to life, one thing becomes beautifully clear. It has all been made possible by the containers I have chosen and crafted—those sacred spaces that have allowed me to show up fully, honestly and as my truest self.

 Today, I want to delve into the essence of curated spaces, sacred surroundings and intentional environments that ignite creativity, peace and presence.

When we shape our surroundings with care and intention, they shape us right back.

As I sit here now—sun peeking through the window, essential oils diffusing away, sipping tea, journal open beside me—I am reminded of something so simple, yet so powerful.

Our environments shape our energy.

I have learned that the clarity I seek in my mind often begins with clearing the energy in the room around me.

When my space feels heavy or chaotic, it’s usually reflecting something within.

A cluttered desk mirrors a cluttered mind.

A closed window can feel like a closed heart. Stagnant, disconnected and yearning for fresh air, new perspective, and light.

Our environments aren’t just backdrops.
They hold us.
They either soothe our nervous system or stir up restlessness.
They either support our creativity or scatter it.

By shifting the space around me, I create space within me.

Space to breathe.

Space to feel.

Space to reconnect and begin again.

Give me an open window, a softly glowing candle, a cozy corner and a cup of something warm… and I can exhale. I can create. I can write. I can remember what matters. I can listen to myself more deeply.

The spaces we create—both physical and emotional are the containers that hold our wildness, our stillness, our creativity, our growth and our healing.
They shape how we feel, how we breathe, how we create and how we connect to ourselves and to the world around us.

Our space shapes our energy—whether we realise it or not.

You know that feeling when you walk into a room and immediately exhale?
When the lighting is soft, the air feels clear, and the energy just supports you in an unspoken way?

That is the power of a consciously curated space.

This brings me to the musings of today, where I am feeling deeply inspired and tenderly aware of the power of curated spaces, sacred surroundings and intentional environments that ignite creativity, peace and presence.

When  our outer world becomes a reflection of our inner truth, something beautiful happens—we soften, we expand, we remember who we are.

Your space holds your story!

Every object around you whispers something.

Some say: Remember your power.
Some say: You are safe to soften.
Others say nothing at all—but carry the energetic residue of distraction, pressure, expectation, or chaos.

I have learned that when I’m feeling scattered, dull or disconnected, it’s not always my mindset that needs shifting.
Sometimes, it’s my space.

A cluttered desk = a cluttered mind.
A chaotic inbox = a chaotic nervous system.
Harsh lighting = a harsh inner dialogue.

On the other side a softly lit room, a clear surface, a vase of fresh flowers, a gentle scent.

That = permission.
That = presence.
That = possibility.

Every space tells a story.
Every object becomes part of the narrative.

Some whisper: Breathe here.
Some offer: Keep going.
Others are heavy with history that ask to be released, so something new can take root and start blooming.

The spaces we create either drain us… or call us home.

Choose what surrounds you with love. Choose what stays with intention.

Your environment is not just background,
It is your sacred support system.

Over the past few years, I have had the honour of stepping into and being part of some truly sacred spaces that have held me both physically and energetically.

Each space leaving an imprint on my heart and soul. Breathwork journeys beneath the stars, where the night sky mirrored the vastness within. Retreats nestled in lush bushlands, where the gum leaves whispered sacred stories of courage. Ceremonial circles where women bared their souls, allowing truth to rise like smoke from the fire. Sound healing rooms that vibrated with ancient energy shaking loose what words could never reach. Cacao ceremonies, where stories were sipped and shared, hearts opened and breath connected us into one rhythm.

These were so much more than just beautiful spaces.

They were intentional.

You could feel it in the placement of a single cushion.
In the reverence of how the room was opened.
In the softness of the rugs, the sacred incense in the air, the warmth of cacao, the circle of blankets and bolsters, the soft grains of sand under feet with waves gently rolling in, the handwritten notes and flower petals placed gently around each circle.

It wasn’t about how these spaces looked.
It was about how they felt.
The way the room whispered, “You can soften here. You are safe to be seen.”

Some spaces stay with you.
Long after the lights have dimmed or the circle has closed, you still feel them etched into your body.
Into your breath. Into your bones.

I remember breathwork circles beneath the stars, wrapped in a blanket, my body trembling with release. I remember silent sunrise ceremonies, barefoot on the earth, where the wind carried our prayers. I remember Spinal Energetics experiences where something ancient stirred in me and my nervous system finally felt safe enough to unwind. I remember womens circles where laughter met grief and strangers became soul sisters in a single night.

I have been held in spaces that shifted something deep inside me. Some spaces held me in such a way that time dissolved.
Not just intellectually, but somatically. Spiritually. Energetically. Emotionally.

These were more than just “events” or “sessions.”
They were portals. They were homecomings.

I remember being wrapped in a blanket in a breathwork circle under the stars, my body trembling as it released decades of unspoken emotion.
No one tried to fix me. They simply held the space and that was more than enough.

I remember a silent sunrise ceremony, barefoot on the earth.
No words were spoken, yet everything was said in the way we breathed together, the way we moved with the elements, the way we honoured stillness like a sacred teacher.

I remember multiple womens circles where tears met laughter and laughter met grief.
Where strangers became soul sisters in a single evening.
Where I was invited to remove the armour, the mask, the expectation and just be.
Be held. Be heard.
Be witnessed in my becoming.

I remember the Sisters in Self-Love Sisterhood Circle that rewired something within me. The language. The rawness. The resonance. The way each woman arrived with her own story, and yet somehow, we all spoke the same soul-language. There was safety to cry without apology, to move without shame, to laugh through tears, and to rewrite old emotional scripts in real time. That space held me. It also nourished me, mirrored me and in many ways it reparented me.

I remember a Spinal Energetics session that stirred something ancient and primal within me.
The care in the space was so profound that my nervous system felt safe enough to unwind, to release, to rise.

I think of many moonlit womens circles where we passed crystals and confessions.
Where no one tried to fix you.
Where “I don’t know” was met with nods of understanding and compassion rather then pressure.
Where your story—no matter how messy—was received as medicine.

I remember the sacred stillness of temples and tombs—places that held not just people, but presence. Spaces etched in stone and spirit. Petra. Kom Ombo. Mount Nebo. The Catacombs and Library of Alexandria. Places where silence spoke, where something wild within me whispered, “You are welcome here.”

There were also sacred spaces, shimmering with divinity. Ta Prohm, where roots embraced ruins. Angkor Wat, where reverence rose with the sun. The Temple of Heaven in Beijing, where harmony echoed in every step. Tam Chuc, a floating prayer in the mist of Vietnam. Cao Dai Temple in Ho Chi Minh City, where East met West beneath a radiant roof.

Each of these spaces, whether beneath the stars, deep in the bush, around a fire, or carved from ancient stone carried a different flavour of the divine. Some whispered. Some roared.

All of these spaces reminded me of what it means to be held, to be seen, to be part of something greater.

Not all sacred spaces are labeled as such.
Some you stumble into.
Some you create in the moment.
Some you don’t realise were sacred until long after you have left them.

Some spaces wrap around you like a warm shawl.
Others shake something loose that has been waiting to be seen.

Then there are the spaces and places you carry with you forever—not because of what was said, but because of what was felt.

I remember intimate 1:1 mentoring spaces where I was seen—not just for what I do, but for who I am.
Spaces that held me through uncertainty, through the messy middles, through expansion I wasn’t sure I was ready for.
But I was.

 I think of Spiritus breathwork, where my body began to move on its own—my spine spiralling, my hands flowing like waves.
Where I met the most tender parts of myself.
Where my inner child rose to the surface and was held—without shame, without rush, without needing to explain.
Where I cried, laughed, and opened wider than I ever had before.

I remember early-morning runs where my breath met the rising sun. Where the rhythm of footfalls created a kind of communion. That space, just me and my feet hitting the pavement, held some of my clearest revelations.

I remember late-night voice notes from soul sisters that landed like lifelines.
Beachside walks with bare feet and full hearts.
Café corners where I journaled with tears falling onto the page.

I have been held in spaces where time dissolved and truth rose to the surface.
Where masks melted and my nervous system could finally breathe.
Where the raw, unfiltered self got to arrive—without performance, without apology.

These experiences have become more than memories.
They are a blueprint.
They have shaped how I hold space for others and how I hold space for myself.

They have reminded me that when intention is woven into the details,
space becomes more than physical.
It becomes sacred.

The spaces I now hold, both in person and virtually are a reflection of the intention, warmth, heart and soul I pour into every detail, shaped by the spaces I have been held in, all the spaces I have created and continue to lovingly curate.

Now I hold space.

The spaces I now hold, both in person and virtually are shaped by every sacred spaces that once held me.
From guiding vision therapy sessions to holding space for intuitive guidance…
From emotional release work and running wild womens circles…
To co-facilitating the upcoming and Spinal Energetics workshop…
To writing this very blog.

I have come to see space-holding as a living art form.
A devotion.
A sacred act of presence.

Whether it’s a physical space I create— with warm lighting, flickering candles, curated playlists, essential oils and the gentle presence of sacred tokens… OR an emotional space held through intentional language, loving presence, nervous system attunement and deep listening…

Every detail matters.

Because I have been held so beautifully…
I now hold with intention.
With reverence.
With presence.
With heart.

As a vision therapist, I have learned that holding space is often nonverbal.
It’s how I position the chair. The tone of voice I choose and the words I offer when a child or even an adult is struggling.
The way I celebrate progress is not in numbers, but in effort.
It’s eye contact. It’s rhythm. It’s attunement.
It’s the little things that say, “You are safe here. You are seen here.”

As an intuitive wellness guide, my spaces become extensions of the nervous system.
They are curated with candles, scent, sound and softness.

Whether I am guiding breathwork journeys, somatic inquiry or sharing tools of emotional intelligence while supporting mindset growth—the intention is the same.

To hold space for someone to remember who they are beneath the noise.
To let them feel it—in their breath, their body, their bones.

Time and time again in different workshops and online offerings, I have witnessed what happens when someone feels safe enough to move…
To release.
To rise.

I have seen healing not just intellectually understood—but embodied.
I have seen joy and grief held side by side.
That is the kind of space I desire to hold forever.

In 1:1 sessions and group offerings, I hold space for not only what is spoken but also all that lives in the silence between the words.
For stories and stillness.
For movement and pause.
For the version of you that you are haven't met yet… but deeply desire to become.

I also hold space virtually through Zoom, Telegram, WhatsApp, voice notes.
Energy travels.
Intention transcends.
Distance doesn’t dim the power of presence.
Even through a screen, hearts can meet.

I also hold space as a wife when we navigate life together with laughter, love and the occasional dance in the kitchen or barefoot in the yard. When we choose softness instead of defensiveness.
When we light a candle at dinner just because.
When our home becomes a sanctuary—not just a space.

I hold space as a friend and soul sister when I listen without fixing.
When I offer tissues and tea or cuddles and cacao. When I laugh wildly and cry quietly.
When I say, “You don’t need to have the words. Just breathe. I’m here.” When I send early morning or late evening audio notes that land like lifelines.

I hold space space through writing like this.
Each blog post is a sacred container.
A quiet offering and space for you to feel seen.
To feel heard. To feel home.

When I prepare a room, I don’t just think about how it looks— I think about how it feels.
How someone will enter and immediately exhale.
How safety will be sensed before a word is spoken.
How beauty and simplicity can open the door to trust, to release, to expansion.

These days, I create spaces with deep intention over perfection.

At home, I have carved out a simple yet cozy writing nook. A space not charge for Instagram but curated for ME!
A mink blanket, fairy lights, rose quartz on the windowsill, a journal nearby, a diffuser, candle flickering beside my journal or laptop and a playlist softly playing in the background.

It’s my sanctuary. My remembering space. My sacred soil.

It’s where I write.
Where I think, feel, unravel and remember.
Where I reconnect to why who I am and what I do matters— and why how I feel while doing it matters just as much.

I treat this space like sacred soil.
It’s the ground from which connection grows.

No matter where I am—a therapy room, a retreat circle, a Zoom call or this quiet cozy corner—I return to the same knowing time and time again.

Intentional space-holding changes everything.

This isn’t about plain aesthetics or symmetrical shelves.
It’s not about having a Pinterest-perfect home or a magazine-worthy workspace.
It’s not about perfection—it’s about resonance.
It’s about energy.
It’s about ritual, intention heart and emotional texture.

It’s all about the quiet results that say, “you are safe here.”

Curated doesn’t mean perfect.
It means intentional.

It means taking the time to ask yourself the following questions.

What do I want this space to support me in doing or becoming?

How do I want to feel when I enter this room—calm, inspired, empowered, nurtured?

Is there something here that feels heavy, outdated or distracting?

Is there something missing that would support me more deeply?

When your outer environment reflects your inner truth, something shifts.
You soften.
You expand.
You remember who you are becoming.

Even the smallest changes can create big ripples:
🌿 Adding a plant or flowers 
🕯️ Lighting that candle you have been “saving”
🌬️ Opening a window and letting fresh air stir up stale energy
🪑 Rearranging a chair
📚 Clearing your bedside table
🎶 Playing a song that moves your spirit

Sometimes, all it takes is clearing a drawer to clear your mind.
Sometimes, one soft light is enough to remember your softness.

Let me remind you it’s not just the physical space that matters—energetic space matters too.

We also curate emotional environments.

Who are you allowing into your sacred circle?
What kinds of conversations are you entertaining?
Where do your thoughts wander when you are not paying attention?

Is your internal space one of tenderness, encouragement, and trust? OR is it cluttered with pressure, criticism and “shoulds”?

Just like we tidy our homes, we can gently declutter our minds.
Just like we light candles in our rooms, we can light them in our hearts.

You are worthy of spaces both inside and out that reflect the truth of who you are becoming.
Your space doesn’t need to be perfect.
It just needs to support your becoming.

Curated energy is just as powerful as curated décor—perhaps even more so. While a thoughtfully arranged room can create visual harmony, it is the energy we bring into a space that truly sets the tone. The way a space feels—the warmth in the air, the calm in the corners, the sense of being seen and safe lingers far longer than the colours on the walls or the cushions on the couch.
Energy might be invisible, but it is deeply felt and when intentionally curated, it becomes the true heartbeat of any environment.

This extends far beyond furniture or colour schemes.
Beyond physicality, emotional spaces matter deeply.

Who do you allow into your space?
What kind of energy are you holding onto?
What boundaries protect your peace—and which ones need reworking?
What rituals help you return to yourself when the world feels too loud?

Are you surrounding yourself with voices that amplify your power—or quiet it?

You get to choose.
You get to curate.
This is your environment.
Your energetic home.
Your sacred ecosystem.

Just as you thoughtfully arrange a room or clear a surface, you can also tend to your inner world.
Your internal environment—your thoughts, emotions, expectations and beliefs—can be lovingly reshaped.

When your emotional space feels safe, soft and inspired… everything else follows.
It’s not about perfection. It’s about alignment.
It’s not about control. It’s about intention.

Curated emotional spaces hold just as much power as physical ones.
They remind you that you are the gatekeeper of your energy, the artist of your atmosphere, the steward of your soul.

If you are feeling the call to breathe new life into your environment, let this be your invitation.

To shift your space. Gently, soulfully, intentionally.

Not for the world. For you.

You don’t need to renovate your life to refresh your energy.
You don’t need a perfect home or minimalist aesthetic to create sacred space.
You just need to come home to your space—with presence, softness and a whole lot of heart.
You simply need to infuse it with you.

When your space is aligned, your energy expands.
When your environment feels nourishing, you naturally soften.
When you feel safe in your space, you come home to yourself.

Here are some of my favourite rituals I return to often that are gentle, intentional and soulfully woven.

Open a window. Let the wind carry out what is no longer needed. Invite the elements to stir anything that is stuck.
Clear one surface. Just one—your desk, dresser or bedside table. Let that clarity ripple outward.
Light a candle. Whisper a blessing as you strike the match: “May this space support my creativity and peace.”
Play music that stirs your soul. Let the vibration do the clearing.
Use scent as a portal. Essential oils, incense, or fresh flowers—what smells like presence to you?
Release stagnant Energy. Let go of all that you have outgrown—not just physically, but symbolically.
Curate a "ME' corner.” Add a flower, a stone, a photo, a poem. Let it become an altar of becoming.
Rearrange something small. A chair, a pillow, a corner. Shift the energy. Shift the story.
Write a space blessing. “May this space hold what I’m ready to become.” Tape it inside a drawer. Whisper it into the walls.
Bless your space out loud. Offer quiet gratitude for how your environment holds and reflects you.

Look around.
What is asking to shift?
What is calling to be honoured, dusted off, rearranged or released?

Let your space reflect the woman you are becoming.
Let it be a mirror.
A sanctuary.
A muse.

Let it hold you in your stillness and ignite you in your unfolding.

Small rituals.
Big shifts.
Let your space become a sacred companion in your becoming.

Let today be a mirror. A muse. A sanctuary.
What is your environment reflecting back to you?
What is it holding? What is it ready to let go of?

Let your space reflect the woman you are becoming.

Let it hold you in your stillness and ignite you in your unfolding.

Let today also be an invitation—
To pause.
To notice.
To reflect on your surroundings.

What’s supporting you? What’s suffocating you? What wants to shift?

You don’t need to renovate your entire life—or your home—to reclaim your energy.
You just need to return to your space with intention, love, and reverence.
To infuse it with soul because when your environment reflects your values, desires and dreams— you feel it.
In your body.
In your breath.
In your bones.

The way you care for your environment is a reflection of the way you care for yourself.
And when you curate with heart, your space becomes a sanctuary.
A container for creation.
A temple of becoming.
A place where you can rise.

You deserve to be held in spaces that ignite your creativity, nurture your peace and honour your becoming.

I open my heart and smile widely for all the sacred environments we curate with care, courage and wild intention.

With spaciousness and wild devotion.

With love, light and a freshly lit candle.

xx Hannah

Visit the homepage of The Wild Wellness Blog to explore more soulful reflections, reminders and rituals that nourish your wild and honour your becoming.