My wife and I don’t travel as much as we used to – the mobility issues and my own arthritis make it more complicated than it once was. But when we do stay in hotels, I’ve started paying attention to something I never noticed before: which places actually help you feel rested versus just giving you a bed for the night.
It started a couple years back when we stayed at this hotel in Grand Rapids while visiting our grandson. Nothing fancy, just a mid-range place near the hospital where he was having minor surgery. But something about the lobby made both of us feel calmer the moment we walked in. Natural light from big windows, some kind of water feature that sounded like the creek behind my dad’s old house, plants that looked healthy instead of fake or dying.
My wife, who’s usually anxious about sleeping anywhere except home, slept better than she had in months. I found myself actually sitting in the lobby reading instead of hiding in our room like I usually do in hotels. Made me start thinking about what makes the difference between places that feel institutional and places that feel… well, human.
Since I’ve been reading about this biophilic design stuff, I’ve realized that most hotels are designed like hospitals – sterile, controlled, cut off from anything natural. Makes sense from a maintenance standpoint, I suppose. Easier to clean, fewer things to break, everything standardized. But there’s something missing when you seal people into these artificial boxes.
<blockquote>What I’ve learned from modifying our own house is that small changes in how a space connects you to natural rhythms can make a huge difference in how you feel. Turns out the same principles apply to hotels, though most of them haven’t figured this out yet.</blockquote>
I read about this hotel chain called 1 Hotels that’s built around bringing nature into the guest experience. Sounds like marketing nonsense until you dig into what they’re actually doing. Reclaimed wood, living walls, natural ventilation systems that let you breathe actual outside air instead of recycled hotel atmosphere. The kind of thing that would have seemed like unnecessary frills to me ten years ago, but now I understand why it matters.
The research is pretty convincing once you look at it. Biophilic elements in hotels don’t just make people feel better – they actually change stress hormone levels and improve sleep quality. These are measurable effects, not just touchy-feely stuff. At one hotel in Miami Beach, they found that adding some natural elements to their lobby increased the time people spent there by over forty minutes. Restaurant revenue went up eighteen percent because guests wanted to stick around instead of rushing through.
Makes perfect sense when you think about it. We didn’t evolve to live in sealed boxes under artificial lights. Put people in an environment that acknowledges we’re living creatures with biological needs, and we function better.
But there’s a right way and a wrong way to do this. I’ve stayed in places that think they’re being nature-friendly by sticking a sad houseplant in the corner and hanging some nature photographs on the walls. That’s not connection to nature – that’s decoration. Real biophilic design is about creating spaces that feel alive, not just spaces that contain living things.
I experienced the difference firsthand at a place we stayed in Northern California last fall. The building materials – stone, wood, metal – felt natural under your hands. Windows opened to let in actual breezes instead of forcing you to rely on air conditioning. The lighting changed throughout the day to match natural rhythms. Nothing dramatic, but everything working together to make you feel like you were still connected to the outside world.
Contrast that with a resort we tried in Florida where they’d spent a fortune on fancy landscaping outside but sealed the buildings like space stations. You had to make a conscious decision to “go experience nature” by leaving your room. The architecture fought against any natural connection.
From my own experience modifying our house for aging in place, I know how much difference these environmental factors make. Better natural light helps us both sleep better and feel less depressed during Michigan winters. Being able to see trees and birds from inside makes even mundane activities more pleasant. Having some connection to outdoor air and natural temperature variations just feels better than living in a completely controlled environment.
Hotels that understand this are incorporating things like natural ventilation systems that create gentle air movement, lighting that gradually shifts color temperature throughout the day to support natural sleep cycles, and materials that age naturally instead of trying to look artificially perfect forever. None of this is complicated or expensive technology – it’s just paying attention to how humans actually function.
The maintenance challenges are real, though. Hotels can’t expect guests to water plants or adjust environmental controls properly. Everything needs to work automatically and be bulletproof. That’s why what they call “passive biophilia” makes the most sense in hotel settings – design elements that deliver nature connection benefits without requiring guest interaction. Natural materials that regulate humidity, acoustic treatments that mimic natural soundscapes, views carefully planned to maximize connection with outdoor landscapes.
What’s encouraging is seeing some hotels move beyond just minimizing environmental impact toward actually contributing to ecosystem health while still delivering good guest experiences. They’re calling it “regenerative hospitality” – properties that make the natural environment better, not just less damaged.
<blockquote>At our age, travel is less about collecting experiences and more about finding places that actually restore you. When you stay somewhere that acknowledges your biological needs instead of just providing basic services, you feel the difference immediately. You sleep deeper, wake more refreshed, engage more with your surroundings.</blockquote>
The business case seems solid as more travelers become conscious about wellness and environmental impact. But honestly, the most convincing argument is just how different you feel when you stay in a place that gets this right. It’s not about luxury amenities or fancy décor – it’s about feeling genuinely restored instead of just temporarily housed.
Since I’ve been paying attention to these things, I’ve started seeking out hotels that incorporate biophilic principles, especially when we’re traveling for medical appointments or family visits that are already stressful. The cost difference is usually minimal, but the impact on how we handle the trip is significant.
Makes me think about how we’ve designed so much of our built environment to ignore our fundamental need for connection with the living world. Hospitals, office buildings, most hotels – all sealed boxes that treat people like machines that just need climate control and artificial lighting. But we’re not machines. We’re living creatures with evolutionary needs that go way beyond thread counts and cable TV.
The hotels that understand this are creating memorable experiences not through luxury amenities, but by making guests feel genuinely restored and reconnected. That’s what travel should do, especially later in life when you’re dealing with all the challenges of aging. Places that work with your biology instead of against it make all the difference.
Robert is a retired engineer in Michigan who’s spent the past few years adapting his longtime home for accessibility and wellbeing. He writes about practical, DIY ways to make homes more comfortable and life-affirming as we age — from raised-bed gardens to better natural light.
