I had been working in the architecture and design industry for 12 years. As senior editor for three commercial design publications, I became completely immersed in what my co-host on “Architects as Healers Buildings as Medicine” refers to as the CULT-ure of architecture.
Over the course of my career as a journalist, I became intrigued by the intersection of place and well-being. I was fascinated by the power of designers, architects and the built environment to transform collective health outcomes. That’s what prompted me to become a WELL AP, and now I’m a WELL faculty member.
Another defining moment happened at a design industry event in Chicago. I glanced over just in time to witness an internationally known architect collapse from exhaustion. Doctors told her nothing was wrong with her—”just stay hydrated,” they said. So instead of thinking, “Oh my God, what is wrong with this industry when I’m seeing so many sick and burned out people literally collapsing in front of me?” I thought to myself, “I must not be working hard enough.”
In fact, many architects are burning out. They’re quitting their jobs without having another one lined up just so they can regain baseline health. A 2021 survey of architects showed 96% were burned out. And according to the Bureau of Labor Statistics, the average tenure of an architect is 1.6 years—the same as a fast-food restaurant worker. How are we going to continue to attract and retain top talent in our industry when we’re not ministering to the people who are basically ministers of public health? I find it ironic we are doing these “WELL buildings, Fitwel and LEED buildings” to advocate for human and ecological health, but yet, as an industry, we’re not embodying that.
My journey
As I was working harder to keep pace with my super-human architect colleagues, it’s not surprising that the curtain call came on my caffeine-fueled career in the emergency room. I had panicked to the point of hyperventilation, the tops of my thighs were going numb and there was fluid collecting between my skin and my organs. I had been so tired for months, but too anxious to sleep. After years of searching for answers, I would come to find out that this episode was brought on by a case of long-undiagnosed Lyme’s disease, exacerbated by severe burnout.
During that ER visit, the doctors ran some tests and told me there was nothing wrong with me—“just don’t eat so much salt,” they said. So I soldiered on, trying to work full-time, parent full-time, be part of household full-time. Brain fog sabotaged my creativity: I couldn’t focus long enough to compose a sentence, let alone write a column, feature or department for my magazines. I was living on coffee. And then when it was time to sleep, I was exhausted but I couldn’t turn off my brain. Part of chronic sleep deprivation and long-haul Lyme disease is inflammation—both cause anxiety. Both of these conditions make it very difficult to get any rest or absorb nutrients.
As part of my recovery, my Lyme doctor prescribed me medication, meditation and sleep. I had to teach myself how to sleep, so like any good Type-A patient, I researched everything sleep related—and I hired a Buddhist Monk! I focused on the micro practices that I needed to sustain creativity-on-demand while avoiding burnout. I’ve been practicing yoga since my early 20s so I also completed my yoga teacher training—something that I had let fall by the wayside when life got too busy. I realized that the principles of yoga, which focuses on the foundations of health, movement, conscious breathing and rest, is essential to human sustainability.
Just putting in a tiny little bit of mindfulness around these few practices gave me huge results. I was giving 20% effort in the form of mindful micro practices, but I was experiencing 100% vitality in terms of results. And I thought, OK, I love teaching well-being through yoga, through the body, through breathing, through mindfulness, through movement, through the ability to rest, restore and recover and through just being generally mindful of the things that contribute to my ability to flourish creatively.
That led me to discover how I might also minister to the architecture and design industry. In her search for answers, my architect friend who collapsed in Chicago discovered that RIBA has a well-being toolkit for professional architects. I took lessons learned from my own personal burnout and recovery to create the A&D wellness toolkit website and the “A+D Toolkit for Daily Creative Renewal” CEU. They focus on holding boundaries around the foundations of health in order to sustain creative vitality. They’re friendly reminders of how the foundations of health profoundly impact the neuroscience of creativity.
My experience inspired me to write “The Sleep System: 28 Days to Better Sleep.” It’s a pragmatic guide to designing the sleep that you love because it uses design thinking to deconstruct unhealthy sleep habits and reconstruct a healthy sleep hygiene. It’s 21 daily tips and sleep hygiene methods—all evidenced-based.
I will delve more deeply into these practices in the next installment of this column.
Megan Mazzocco founded Wellbeing X Design to help architects and designers sustain creativity-on-demand with neuroscience-backed practices. Her work links individual well-being to overarching sustainability goals and demonstrates design’s impact on collective health outcomes.
The post Lack of emphasis on well-being is killing our design professionals appeared first on Floor Covering News.
Lack of emphasis on well-being is killing our design professionals Posted First on https://fcnews.net
No comments:
Post a Comment