Luxury wellness likes to believe it has cracked the code. Marble floors. Whispered voices. A robe so thick it could survive a mild winter. Someone offering you cucumber water while asking—very seriously—how your intention is feeling today. And to be fair: some of it works. Some of it works beautifully. I say this as someone who has spent years inside the machinery—opening spas, running them, directing them, loving them, occasionally

For two years now, Vancouver Island has been quietly re‑educating me. I arrived with city reflexes still intact — the habit of comparing, of measuring places against more polished versions of themselves. Victoria, with its flowerbeds and façades, its carefully tended charm, is often held up as the Island’s thriving heart. Nanaimo, by contrast, is spoken about in gentler, sometimes apologetic tones. It’s trying, people say. It has potential. But

Mental health awareness has never been higher. We speak openly about anxiety, burnout, and depression. We encourage self-care. We normalise struggle. Campaigns remind us to check in on one another. Celebrities share their stories. Companies roll out meditation apps and mental health days. And yet, the environments we design — socially, economically, geographically — often intensify the very conditions we claim to care about. We live in a world that