When I recently visited my daughter in Israel, I embraced the trip differently than I have in the past. I wanted to experience it with an open heart, rather than the programmed perspective I’ve held onto. I love traveling, meeting people from different cultures, hearing their perspectives, and noticing the ways people live. I’ve always been curious about the world, yet the more inner work I’ve done over the past several years, the more I’ve realized how much these experiences influence both my own healing and transformation and the way I approach my work.
I’ve also realized that in a world that is craving authentic, human connection, it is time for me to share more of my soul with the world..
For a long time, I’ve held back more than I needed to. It’s easy, especially as a business owner, to feel as though there’s a “professional” version of yourself you’re supposed to present. But the relationships I’ve built with my clients, colleagues, trade partners, and team have taught me something very different. I do my best work when I connect with people on a human, heart centered level. I want to know who you are, what matters to you, what you’re going through, and what you need from your home. That connection is what keeps me inspired, and it’s increasingly becoming part of how I think about design.
And that brings me to what Israel taught me about feeling safe at home. Throughout the trip, I found myself paying attention to the places where I felt grounded, comfortable, and at ease, and wondering what exactly about those environments was creating that feeling.
This trip reminded me why.
Paying Attention to What Made Me Feel Good
Because I am so fascinated with NeuroDesign and the connection between our environments and well-being, I find myself observing spaces differently now. I notice what my body responds to before I necessarily understand why I’m responding to it.
One afternoon in Israel, I sat at a restaurant overlooking the city. It was 95 degrees, but underneath a canopy, surrounded by greenery and tucked beneath umbrellas, I felt remarkably comfortable. I could still see the expansive view around me, but I also felt protected and contained.
I could feel myself relax and breathe deeply into my vacation time.
Naturally, my designer brain kicked in. I started looking around and asking myself what it was about this particular space that felt so good. There was shelter overhead, greenery around me, defined places to sit, and an interesting balance between enclosure and openness. Even the angles within the architecture helped create smaller, more intimate spaces within the larger environment.
There was nothing flashy about what was happening. My surroundings were simply giving my body cues that said, you can settle in here.
That’s something I’ve become increasingly enchanted with in my work: the ways our environments impact our mental and physical health, and how they can help us feel safe, grounded, energized, connected, or calm, often without us consciously realizing what’s happening.


Looking for Patterns in a Place Filled With Them
Another thing I noticed myself doing throughout the trip was looking for groups of three.
The “rule of three” has been used in art, architecture, and design for centuries because odd-numbered groupings, particularly three, tend to feel visually balanced while still giving our eyes somewhere to move. Once you start noticing these patterns, you see them everywhere.
And I noticed something else: looking for them was calming me down.
Instead of being caught up in everything happening around me in a noisy, crowded city, I was looking at my environment. I was noticing patterns, shapes, repetition, nature, architecture, and details. I was present.
That experience made the connection between NeuroDesign and my own life feel especially tangible. I’ve spent so much time learning about how our surroundings affect us, and here I was experiencing it myself. I wasn’t deliberately performing some kind of wellness exercise. I was simply paying attention to the world around me, and it was helping me feel grounded.



What Does This Have to Do With Your Home?
Probably more than you think.
We spend so much time talking about what our homes look like. We choose a sofa because we love its shape, debate paint colors, save beautiful kitchens on Pinterest, and think about whether everything “goes together.” I love all of those things (I am an interior designer, after all) but I’m becoming increasingly interested in another question:
How does your home make you feel?
Think about where you naturally go when you’ve had a difficult day. Is there a chair where you immediately curl up? A sunny spot where you drink your coffee? A room that somehow makes you breathe a little easier?
Now think about the opposite. Is there a room you rarely use, even though you can’t really explain why? Does your bedroom make it difficult to settle down at night? Does your living room feel exposed rather than cozy? Is there so much visual stimulation somewhere that you never quite feel relaxed?
None of those things mean you’ve designed your home “wrong.” And please don’t be embarrassed if your answer is, Rebecca, my entire house stresses me out. I’ve been doing this for nearly 30 years. I’m not coming into anyone’s home to judge the clutter, the old sofa, the unfinished project, or the design decision you made in 2007 and now deeply regret. I’m interested in understanding what your environment is doing for you and what it could be doing better.
Creating a greater sense of safety might mean changing the furniture placement so a seating area feels more protected. It could mean softer lighting, more natural materials, a cozy corner, patterns that feel familiar, or bringing in elements of nature. Sometimes a surprisingly small change can shift the entire experience of a room.
The answer will be different for everyone because we’re different people with different histories, memories, preferences, and needs. That’s exactly why I don’t believe in designing every home according to one particular aesthetic.
Design Is Becoming More Personal for Me, Too
The more I grow personally, the more my work evolves with me. I’ve internalized much spiritual growth and emotional healing over the past several years, and it’s changed the way I think about my business. I’m less interested in doing what I’m “supposed” to do as an entrepreneur and much more interested in following my intuition, building genuine relationships, and doing work that feels meaningful.
For me, mental health and design belong in the same conversation. So do vulnerability, safety, joy, grief, healing, connection, and all the other very human things we bring through the front door with us every day. I want us to be able to talk about those things.
I want my clients to feel heard and understood rather than intimidated by the design process. I want someone to be able to tell me, “This room makes me anxious,” without worrying that it sounds silly. I want to know the stories behind the things you love and why certain spaces make you feel safe or unsafe. That’s information I can use to create a home that works for you.
And maybe that’s part of what this trip gave me, too. Traveling has always inspired me visually, but this time I came home thinking just as much about connection. I was even more present with the people I encountered, other cultures, my surroundings, and myself. I let all of it in.
I’m realizing I want to do a little more of that here, too. I want to share what I’m learning, what I’m noticing, where I’m growing, and how all of it is influencing the homes I create. Because ultimately, design is about people. We’re complicated, imperfect, evolving humans, and the places where we live should give us room to be exactly that.
So I’ll leave you with the question I kept coming back to in Israel: Where do you feel safest and most at ease, and what is it about that environment that makes you feel that way?
Pay attention to your answer. Maybe it’s being surrounded by trees, sitting near water, feeling tucked into a cozy corner, or being somewhere with plenty of natural light and room to breathe. There are clues in the places we’re naturally drawn to, and once we start noticing them, we can begin thinking about how to bring some of those same feelings into our homes.
That’s actually why I created The Soulful Space Audit. It’s a free workbook designed to help you slow down and pay attention to how your home is making you feel. We’ll look at things like color, texture, nature, sensory experiences, and the rooms you naturally gravitate toward—or avoid—and start figuring out what your surroundings may be telling you.
DOWNLOAD THE FREE SOULFUL SPACE AUDIT
You don’t need to know anything about interior design to do it, and this definitely isn’t an exercise in finding everything that’s “wrong” with your house. I want you to get curious about your home and your own reactions to it. You may discover that some things are already working beautifully, while others could use a little attention.
And if you finish the audit and realize you’d like some help creating more of that comfort, safety, or sense of you in your home, that’s exactly the kind of conversation I’d love to have.
We’re all figuring ourselves out as we go. Our homes get to evolve right along with us.
