You know, I never thought much about why some restaurants and bars felt comfortable while others made me want to finish my drink and leave. After thirty-eight years in the same house and all this reading I’ve been doing about how spaces affect people, I’m starting to notice patterns everywhere I go.

It started when my wife and I were still getting out more, before her stroke made mobility harder. There was this brewpub in downtown Grand Rapids we’d visit maybe once a month – nothing fancy, but we always ended up staying longer than planned. Good conversation, relaxed atmosphere. I couldn’t put my finger on why until I started learning about this biophilic design stuff.

The whole front of that place was massive windows letting in natural light during the day. The bar was made from what looked like reclaimed barn wood – you could see the grain, feel the texture when you leaned against it. Nothing polished or artificial about it. Tables were solid wood too, mismatched pieces that looked like they came from different farmhouses. The kind of materials my grandfather would have recognized.

Compare that to some chain restaurant we tried once – everything was fake wood grain laminate, harsh overhead lighting, plastic plants in the corners. We were out of there in forty minutes, and I felt tired just being in the space. Now I understand why. Humans aren’t wired to feel comfortable surrounded by artificial everything.

I’ve been reading about this in some of the design articles our daughter sends me. There’s actual research showing that natural materials reduce stress levels. Makes perfect sense when you think about it. Stone, wood, cotton, wool – we’ve been living with these things for thousands of years. Of course they feel right to us.

Started paying attention to other places too. There’s a coffee shop in town where I sometimes meet friends from church – older building with original hardwood floors, big windows, plants on every windowsill. Real plants, not plastic ones. The owner told me the plants help with air quality, but I think they do more than that. Having living, growing things around just feels good.

The lighting thing has been a revelation. Most restaurants blast you with fluorescent overheads that make everyone look sick. But the places I actually enjoy being in use warmer, softer lighting. Table lamps, pendant lights, sometimes candles. Creates this intimate feeling even when the place is busy.

I tried applying this at home after reading about it. Replaced all our harsh overhead bulbs with warmer ones, added some table lamps around the living room. My wife noticed immediately – said the house felt more peaceful in the evenings. We’d been living under those cold fluorescents for decades without thinking about how they affected our mood.

There was an article I found about restaurants using natural sounds – water features, subtle nature recordings played through speakers. Sounds gimmicky, but I tried it. Got one of those small tabletop fountains at a garage sale for five dollars. The gentle water sound actually does help mask traffic noise from the street, makes the house feel calmer.

Been noticing the layout of spaces more too. The restaurants where we linger have these organic seating arrangements – not everything lined up in perfect rows. Curved banquettes, tables at different angles, spaces that feel like they grew naturally instead of being measured out with a ruler.

Made me rethink our living room setup. Used to have the couch and chairs pushed against the walls because I thought it made the room look bigger. But after reading about how spaces flow, I moved things to create conversation areas. Works much better when our kids visit – instead of everyone staring at the TV, there are natural spots for smaller groups to chat.

The restaurant that really opened my eyes was this place in Traverse City we visited for our anniversary a few years back. Built into an old warehouse, but they’d added skylights and filled it with plants. Living wall along one side – hundreds of plants creating this vertical garden. The air felt different in there, fresher somehow. And the sound – all those leaves absorbed the noise, so even though it was packed, you could have a conversation without shouting.

I can’t install skylights or living walls in our ranch house, but I have been adding more plants. Started with herbs on the kitchen windowsill – practical and they smell good when you brush against them. Then some easy houseplants for the living room. Killed a few learning what works, but now we’ve got spider plants and pothos that are actually thriving.

My wife loves having plants to care for again, especially during Michigan winters when her outdoor garden is dormant. Gives her something living to tend to when the arthritis keeps her from getting outside much.

Even been thinking about scent, something I never paid attention to before. Read about restaurants that use subtle essential oils through their ventilation systems – pine, cedar, citrus scents that make you think of being outdoors. We’re not about to modify our HVAC system, but I did try one of those oil diffusers. Cedar and pine scents during winter, fresh citrus in summer. Creates this clean, natural smell that’s better than whatever cooking odors usually linger around.

What strikes me about all this is how it connects to the way my grandparents lived. Their house had big windows, real wood furniture, plants on every sill. They spent time on the porch in the evenings, stayed connected to the outdoors. Somewhere along the way we decided artificial everything was progress – synthetic materials, sealed buildings, fluorescent lighting.

Now we’re paying designers to figure out how to bring nature back into our spaces. Seems backward to me, but I get why it’s necessary. We built nature out of our environment, and now we’re remembering why we need it back.

The practical side of this appeals to the engineer in me. These aren’t just pretty design choices – there’s actual data showing how natural elements reduce stress, improve air quality, help people sleep better. When my wife’s pain levels are high, she definitely does better sitting by the window with morning sunlight and a view of our backyard trees than in our windowless den under fluorescent lights.

Been sharing some of these ideas with folks at our senior center. Simple changes that don’t require major renovations or big budgets. Better lightbulbs, a few plants, materials that feel good to touch instead of cold plastic. Small modifications that make institutional spaces feel more human.

Not everything I’ve tried has worked. That fancy fountain I installed in the living room leaked and damaged the hardwood floor – expensive lesson learned. And some plants I brought inside triggered my wife’s allergies. But enough changes have made a real difference that I keep experimenting.

What I’ve learned is that creating comfortable spaces isn’t about having perfect design skills or unlimited money. It’s about understanding what makes humans feel good and finding practical ways to incorporate those elements. Natural light, living plants, materials you can actually touch and feel, sounds that remind you of the outdoors.

The restaurants and bars that get this right aren’t necessarily the fanciest ones. They’re the places that remember humans are still animals who thrive around natural elements, no matter how urban our lives have become. And those same principles work just as well in a suburban ranch house as they do in some trendy restaurant.