A design philosophy by Wes Paternotte

Zen stillness, Scandinavian soul, a way of living in nature.

Spaces with soul

Some spaces reach something in you the moment you walk in — long before you notice the finishes or work out why.

Clutter is a quiet tax on attention — a hundred small decisions your mind keeps making without you noticing: the stack of mail, the cord on the floor, the shelf that became a catch-all. A room edited down to what it needs asks nothing of you. Every object left has to earn its place, disappearing into function until you stop noticing it's there. What remains is room to think, to breathe, to simply be. Design, done well, is mostly subtraction.

I'm building a wellness resort on this principle, on the coast of northern Norway — where the nature is raw, untouched, and gives you an instant sense of peace the moment you arrive. Scandinavian design already understood half of this: space, restraint, material honesty. Zen philosophy understood the other half: presence, stillness, the discipline of enough.

Zendinavian is where they meet. What follows is the vision taking shape.

May you find the wind in your sails.

Stillness first. Everything else follows.

Modern house with large glass windows, surrounded by trees and greenery, with stone steps leading up to the entrance.

My Story

I've spent the last twenty-five years building spaces meant to slow people down — starting with Delight Studio in Amsterdam, which grew into the largest yoga school in the Netherlands, The House of Yoga, and The Inner Peace Conference, where wisdom teachers from around the world shared their practices for inner peace. Together with Kristin, the mother of our beautiful sons Maxwell and Christopher, I also founded the Arctic Yoga Conference, held for eight consecutive years in Northern Norway.

Somewhere in that work, I noticed that the spiritual practices from the East, Zen philosophy, and Scandinavian nature and wellness practices form a beautiful symbiosis.

This blog is where I keep working that idea out loud — the design choices, the wellness practices, the music, the philosophy behind all of it. This is not a finished thought. It's all coming alive in my new venture, Moonstone Retreat in Bodø, Norway. Stay tuned.

Various dark-colored ceramic bowls, plates, and a teapot arranged on a surface with Japanese text overlay and a logo indicating a gallery event from July 7 to July 16, 2017.
Several black and grey ceramic plates and bowls, with wooden chopsticks resting on one plate, arranged on a grey fabric surface.
A dark, moody still life scene featuring a ceramic vase with bare branches and small white flowers, set on a wooden table with several empty ceramic plates and bowls around it.

Inspired by nature

Stone, wood, linen, raw ceramics, Arctic light — I'm drawn to materials that don't perform, they just age honestly. The same goes for how I try to live: less staging, more presence. Living on the Norwegian coast has only sharpened that instinct. Nature here doesn't ask to be curated. It asks to be listened to.

A space earns its place in this landscape by disappearing into it a little — a window that frames the fjord instead of competing with it, a wall left rough because the stone quarried nearby was never meant to be smooth, light let in exactly as the season gives it, without correction. Nothing imported that doesn't belong to this coastline. Nothing indoors that forgets what's just outside the glass. This is Zendinavian: not nature as a view to admire, but nature as a material — pulled straight into the room, unedited.

A serene lake surrounded by dense evergreen trees, with mountains in the background, and mist or fog creating a peaceful, natural landscape.

The practice

Some of the oldest wellness practices in the world are also the simplest: heat, cold, water, nature. Sauna, bathing, time outdoors — these are rituals I keep returning to, because they still work the way they always have. People have been doing this for thousands of years without needing to be told why.

The heat builds slowly until it's the only thing you're aware of. Then cold water, and the whole body wakes at once — breath caught, everything sharp and immediate. Then the quiet that follows, which is the real point. Somewhere in that sequence the mind stops narrating and simply arrives.

These practices ask nothing of you except presence. No goals. No optimization. Just heat, cold, breath, and the stillness on the other side. Add the Arctic to it — the long light, the silence, the raw edge of the coastline — and it stops being a routine. It becomes something closer to a philosophy you can feel in the body.

A minimalist Japanese-style meditation or yoga room with wooden walls, large windows looking out onto trees, and floor cushions arranged for sitting or meditation.

Soundscapes

I was about ten years old when my mother introduced me to Brian Eno. I didn't have the words for it then, but something in that music rearranged how I listened to everything after. Ambient music has been part of my life ever since.

It's not background music to me. It's a way of enhancing an experience until it reaches somewhere quieter — somewhere closer to the soul. The same instinct shapes every room I design: nothing forcing itself on you, everything just present enough to hold you there. A slow, unfolding piece of ambient music does exactly what a well-designed space does — it doesn't demand your attention, it earns your presence.

This is the sound behind Zendinavian. This playlist is a curated list of my favorite pieces.

Moonstone Retreat

Experience the Zendinavian lifestyle in Arctic nature.

Everything you've seen here — the spaces, the materials, the sauna and cold water, the ambient sounds through a still room — is coming together on the edge of the Norwegian coast. Moonstone Retreat is where Zendinavian stops being a philosophy and becomes a place you can actually stand in.

A place with a soul.

View of a sunset over a mountainous landscape with water, seen from a patio with wooden lounge chairs, a hot tub, and a tree.

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