She vocalized her desire to survive this immense hardship. But understandably, she suffered from anxiety and found comfort in the familiar, which made her resistant to change. So on the first day, I gave her a gentle assignment to get her out of the house. While she was away, I moved every small, emotionally charged item into the guest room to be sorted later. Then, I changed the layout of the living room completely. The couch now faced the garden. Entry into the space required a new path. Large furniture blocked her from retracing her usual steps or gazing at the same visual cues. When she returned, she was visibly disoriented. She looked around the room, confused, and then lay down on the couch for several hours. Simply creating a new circulation in the room had triggered a deep energetic shift, which was absolutely exhausting for her at first. But the next day, she was ready. She initiated the next steps. She chose to work room by room, so the process was spread out over several weeks and months. First, the living room, where she spent most of her time, underwent a deep clean. Small repairs were made, and the walls and ceiling were freshly painted. We kept the furniture she loved and updated what no longer suited her. Decor was added: long white curtains, lots of green plants, modern lighting, cozy rugs, and some inspiring artwork. A few carefully selected family photos that sparked joy were framed and placed with intention. Then we moved on to the bedroom, the guest room, the stairs, each area transformed. As visible changes took hold, momentum grew. Confidence returned. Eventually, we began sorting the emotional items stored in the guest room. Some were selected for display and thoughtfully integrated into the home. Others were lovingly archived—easily accessible, but no longer in daily view, allowing her emotions to settle. What no longer served her was sold, donated, or recycled. There is still more to do, but no part of the house remains untouched. Every zone has been cleared, cleaned, repainted, and reorganized. There is new circulation. No lingering repairs. No visual triggers at every turn. The home feels lighter, calmer, and alive again. During this intense home transformation process, new life literally came in with the birth of her first and only grandchild. As this bond and relationship flourished in this cozy and renewed space, every corner began to absorb new memories. Eventually the inevitable happened and her son passed away, but with the internal work she had done, the transformation of her space, and the bond with her granddaughter, she had new strength and fuel to keep healing. It’s very important to note that during this home transformation, she was also doing the internal work in therapy. She truly wanted to survive and feel better. She was overwhelmed, but open. That willingness, that trust, is essential. This process can be profoundly therapeutic, but only if the person is truly ready for change. The home environment plays a huge role in mental health, but it isn’t a magic fix. It’s one key part of a larger healing process. This experience confirmed for me just how important this work is, and how impactful it can be for people facing profound life transitions and feeling stuck, both in their homes and in their lives.