Mental wellbeing is a real topic of concern in architecture. A recent survey by The Architects’ Journal revealed that over 52% of architecture students expressed concern regarding their mental health.[1] When one considers the long hours, the competitive nature of the course, as well as the sheer duration of study, this perhaps isn’t that surprising. The “all-nighter” attitude of most architecture schools exacerbates the problem, as studies show a lack of sleep reduces the mind’s resilience to issues such as anxiety and depression.[2]

Yet this aspect of the architectural education system isn’t showing any sign of changing. What can architectural students (and their professional counterparts) do to minimize the impact that architecture has on their psychological wellbeing? I would argue that the answer, at least partly, can be found in the practice of mindfulness.

For several decades, a set of oriental practices and techniques have strongly infiltrated the western world. A new program that, as architects, we must start solving more often, and that poses interesting challenges from the point of functional, environmental, and aesthetic.

These disciplines are completely focused on the human being, as they seek to work and satisfy their physical, psychological and spiritual needs, and that's why it seems important to analyze how these needs are being met spatially by architects. Many of the operations taken in these spaces create enabling environments for reflection, introspection, healing, and therefore could also be applied in other relevant programs, such as housing, educational, hospital, and even office spaces.

This article seeks to draw lessons from some projects already published on our site, in order to perform a kind of guide for designs that helps our community of readers to find inspiration more effectively.

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