For a long time, the idea of luxury was defined by scale, exclusivity, and ownership, expressed through larger homes, more amenities, and greater distance from others. Luxury was often something to be acquired and contained, a private experience set apart from everyday life, frequently out of reach and associated with a high cost.
As cities expanded and patterns of living evolved, urban environments grew and economic dynamics changed, gradually reshaping how people connect, move, and spend their time. In this process, new priorities began to take hold, as people started to value not only what they own, but how they feel on a daily basis.
Time, wellbeing, and a sense of connection are becoming central to how quality of life is defined, and within this shift, one element continues to stand out as both simple and profound: access to nature.
Not as a distant escape, but as something present and integrated into everyday routines, increasingly understood not as an amenity, but as a necessary condition for a more balanced way of living.
For decades, the concept of luxury was closely tied to possession and accumulation.
More space, more privacy, more amenities, often located farther away from the density and unpredictability of everyday life. Large homes on expansive lots, gated communities, and highly controlled environments became symbols of success, offering comfort through separation.
This idea of luxury did not emerge by accident. It was shaped by a combination of industrial growth, rising incomes, and post-war suburban expansion, particularly throughout the mid to late 20th century. As cities became more crowded and industrialized, distance began to signal status. To live farther away, with more land and fewer immediate constraints became associated with achievement, privacy, and control over one’s environment.
Aspiration was defined through separation, distance equaled exclusivity, and convenience was measured by how little one had to engage with the surrounding environment or rely on shared systems. Over time, however, some of the trade-offs of this model have become more visible. Longer commutes, increased dependence on cars, and more time spent indoors have gradually reshaped daily routines in ways that were not always anticipated. What was once designed to offer comfort has, in many cases, contributed to more sedentary lifestyles and a growing sense of disconnection, both from nature and from others.
For this reason, luxury is beginning to be redefined. Rather than focusing on how much space one can occupy, the emphasis is shifting toward how life is experienced within it. Quality is no longer defined solely by finishes or square footage, but by access, proximity, and the ability to move through daily life with greater ease and intention. This redirection does not reject comfort, but rather reframes what comfort actually means.
What was once considered a luxury feature is increasingly being understood as a fundamental component of wellbeing.
Access to nature, whether through green spaces, proximity to the ocean, or daily exposure to natural light and fresh air, is no longer seen as something extra. It is becoming part of a broader conversation around health, both mental and physical, and about how our environments shape the way we live.A growing body of research supports this understanding. Studies from institutions such as the Harvard T.H. Chan School of Public Health have found that regular exposure to green spaces is associated with measurable reductions in stress, including lower cortisol levels, improved mood, and even a decreased risk of chronic conditions such as cardiovascular disease. Similarly, researchers at University College London have observed that people who spend at least 120 minutes per week in natural environments are significantly more likely to report good health and higher levels of life satisfaction compared to those with little or no exposure. Additional findings from organizations like the World Health Organization further reinforce that access to natural environments supports increased physical activity, reduces symptoms of anxiety and depression, and contributes to overall mental resilience.
These findings suggest that the environments we inhabit have a direct and measurable impact on how we feel, how we move, and how we recover from the demands of daily life, positioning nature not as a backdrop, but as an active participant in our health.
Research also suggests that the benefits of nature are most significant when experienced regularly rather than occasionally. Studies in environmental psychology and public health have shown that even brief, repeated exposure to natural environments can lead to measurable biological effects, including reduced cortisol levels, improved cognitive function, enhanced mood, and faster recovery from mental fatigue.
For many people, the distance from nature is not always obvious. It does not necessarily feel like a loss, but rather like a routine that has gradually taken shape over time. Days spent mostly indoors, movement limited to functional moments, and long periods in front of screens have become a normal part of modern life.
Disconnection from nature is rarely intentional. It is often built into how environments are designed and how daily schedules unfold.
However, the effects of this disconnection are becoming increasingly visible. Research continues to show that sedentary lifestyles, often shaped by car-dependent environments and screen-based work, have measurable consequences on human health. According to the World Health Organization, physical inactivity is one of the leading risk factors for global mortality, contributing to millions of deaths each year and increasing the likelihood of cardiovascular disease, diabetes, and other chronic conditions.
At the same time, screen exposure has reached unprecedented levels. Global estimates suggest that adults spend an average of 6 to 7 hours per day in front of screens, a figure that often increases when accounting for both work and leisure. Data from the Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development indicates that a significant portion of this time replaces activities that once involved movement, outdoor exposure, or in-person interaction.
Commuting patterns further reinforce this dynamic. As mentioned in the previous The Blog edition, a large national survey of more than 28,000 workers in South Korea found that longer commute times were associated with higher stress levels, reduced life satisfaction, and less time available for rest, exercise, and personal activities. Similar findings have been observed across multiple countries, where extended time in transit contributes to both physical inactivity and mental fatigue.
Access to green space also plays a critical role, yet in many cities it remains limited. The World Health Organization recommends a minimum of 9 square meters of green space per person, with an ideal target closer to 50 square meters to support optimal health and wellbeing. In practice, many urban environments fall below these recommendations, often unevenly distributed and not always within walking distance.
Over time, this begins to shape how people experience time, how connected they feel to their surroundings, and how easily they move between work, rest, and social life. When most activities take place indoors or in transit, days can feel compressed, repetitive, and disconnected from natural rhythms.
Rather than a sudden decline, the impact is gradual. It reflects a deeper complexity in which environments designed for comfort and efficiency have also created distance from a relationship with nature that is deeply intrinsic to the human experience. As this separation persists, the effect is not immediate, but accumulative, a subtle erosion of wellbeing shaped by small absences that begin to carry weight, often translating into a quiet sense that something is missing, even if it is difficult to fully articulate.
One of the most meaningful changes in how luxury is being redefined lies in the distinction between ownership and access.
For a long time, value was measured by what could be privately possessed. Larger homes, private gardens, exclusive amenities, and controlled environments were seen as indicators of a higher quality of life. The underlying assumption was that the more you owned, the better you lived.
A private garden, for example, may offer a certain kind of comfort, but access to a network of trails, open landscapes, and the ocean introduces a different scale of experience, one that is dynamic, changing, and deeply connected to place. Similarly, a private amenity can provide convenience, but shared environments such as plazas, walkable streets, and public spaces often create opportunities for movement, interaction, and a more layered daily life.Ownership has not lost its value, but a new model of living designed for collective experience over individual use has gained relevance. In contrast to more traditional urban and suburban patterns, where functions are separated and movement often depends on vehicles, these environments allow daily life to unfold through proximity, walkability, and access to shared spaces.
This includes a meaningful change in how people relate to others. Rather than being surrounded only by familiar or controlled environments, shared spaces introduce moments of coexistence, where individuals with different backgrounds, perspectives and ways of life intersect, adding depth and richness to everyday experience.In this sense, luxury is no longer defined by how much can be contained within private limits, but by how seamlessly one can engage with the surrounding environment.
One of the most visible ways this transformation takes shape is through walkability and proximity, where life begins to unfold at a more human scale and the outdoors becomes part of everyday experience rather than an occasional escape.
When distances are shorter and environments are designed to be navigated on foot, movement no longer requires planning or extra effort, but becomes a natural extension of daily routines. Walking to get a coffee, meeting a friend a few streets away, or heading to the beach at the end of the day are no longer activities that need to be scheduled, but simple transitions that happen almost without thinking.
In this sense, nature is not something people leave the city to find, but something they encounter continuously. It appears in the spaces between destinations, along the way, and as part of the everyday, allowing the outdoors to become the setting for everyday life rather than a separate category reserved for weekends or vacations.
Proximity also reshapes how relationships are built and maintained. When people are physically closer and share common spaces, interactions become more spontaneous and frequent, reinforcing a sense of familiarity and belonging that is often difficult to achieve in more dispersed environments.
Taken together, these changes begin to define a different understanding of luxury.
It is no longer centered solely on ownership, scale, or exclusivity, but on the quality of everyday experience and the conditions that support it. What people are increasingly seeking goes beyond space or privacy, turning instead toward time, connection, and a way of living that feels balanced and intentional.
Time becomes one of the most valuable forms of luxury, allowing for movement without urgency, moments outdoors, and meaningful interactions without the constant pressure of distance or fragmentation.
Health also takes on a more central role, becoming something supported by the environment itself through daily movement, access to fresh air, and regular exposure to natural surroundings, rather than something that must be pursued separately.
At the same time, simplicity reveals itself as clarity rather than limitation, a reduction of unnecessary friction in daily life, where essential activities are closer, transitions are smoother, and routines require less effort to sustain.
While these ideas may seem abstract, they take on a much clearer meaning when translated into the physical environment.
In places where walkability is prioritized, life begins to organize itself differently. Distances shorten, routines simplify, and movement becomes part of the natural flow of the day rather than something that requires planning. Walking to get a coffee, meeting friends along the way, or reaching the beach within minutes becomes part of a continuous experience rather than a series of separate moments.
Access to nature also moves from occasional to constant. Trails, open landscapes, and the ocean are not destinations reserved for specific moments, but elements woven into daily life, shaping how people move, pause, and spend their time.
In this sense, places like Las Catalinas offer a tangible example of how these ideas can come to life. Designed as a walkable town where everything is within reach, Town is surrounded by nature and connected through a network of more than 42 kilometers of trails. Combined with its proximity to the ocean and a system of public spaces that encourage daily movement and interaction, it creates an environment where nature, community, and daily routines align more seamlessly.
Not everyone is chasing bigger anymore. Across different places and lifestyles, people are beginning to choose differently, placing greater value on how they feel day to day than on how much they own. The pace may appear slower, but life often becomes richer, shaped by time outdoors, meaningful interactions, and a more intentional rhythm.
For those who feel drawn to this way of life, the change does not need to be abrupt. It can begin simply by choosing an environment that makes it possible. In Las Catalinas, life unfolds through plazas, trails, sidewalks, and small pathways framed by nature, where movement happens on foot and everyday encounters lead to familiar faces and a sense of community. It is a way of living experienced through one’s own body, rather than observed through a screen, where time, movement, and connection come together more seamlessly, offering a tangible experience of what this way of living truly makes possible.