The Quiet Beauty of Home | Alana Fletcher

We would like to introduce you to Alana Fletcher, a seasoned interior designer and creative mentor living on 50 acres in Southern Ontario, Canada. Alana is the heart behind Alana Fletcher Interiors and the soon-to-launch education platform, The Creative Pivot. With deep roots in her childhood home, now a multi-generational haven, Alana’s journey weaves together design, resilience, motherhood, and a profound sense of place. In this conversation, she invites us into her home and shares the many layers of stillness and quiet beauty that she intentionally incorporates into her life. Where coffee rituals, old-world craftsmanship, and treasures passed down through generations feel special.  Where every room is shaped by integrity, adaptability, and stewardship. When we look at our own spaces that we call home, we hope that you will remember some of Alana’s insights. They are adaptable and inspiring, and they somehow encourage us to ask the same of the places we call home.

We hope you enjoy this lovely interview. 

Let’s begin with an introduction.

I’m Alana Fletcher, an interior designer and creative mentor living on 50 acres in the rural countryside of Southern Ontario. I lead a boutique design firm  Alana Fletcher Interiors, and am launching an education company called The Creative Pivot, where I help people, especially women, design homes and businesses that feel deeply aligned.

I’ve been a single mom of two for the past 14 years, and my kids have been my biggest inspiration and encouragement.  Failure was never an option, and it has helped me to stay focused through the ups and downs of building my business.

Right now, home looks like my childhood house, where I returned to care for my father during his final years. It’s now a multi-generational space filled with my adult children, my mother, and our dogs… plus every trace of memory and meaning that’s come with this land.

How would you describe the feeling of your home?

It’s layered, quiet, lived-in. There’s a stillness to it, like the walls have absorbed both joy and grief and softened because of it.

Nature, timeworn textures, and old-world practicality inspire the atmosphere.  My mother was born in Scotland, and her family brought with them treasures from generations past.  We still live with many of the pieces that were passed down.  It’s a mix of heritage, countryside, some midcentury gems I’ve collected over the years, and what I call quiet pragmatism. 

Things that are beautiful because they work well, last long, and have stories to tell.

If you had to name three core values that guide the way you live, what would they be?

Integrity. Adaptability. Stewardship.

These values guide how I show up for my family, my work, and this home.

They matter because life is never static, and I’ve learned that how you respond in seasons of change reveals what really anchors you.  Before moving back to my childhood home, my kids and I moved more times than I’d like to admit - these values carried us through every single house we made into a home.

How do those values show up in your home?

We make decisions that reflect who we are now and who we’re becoming. We’ve adapted rooms as needs shift, welcomed my son back home, made space for my mom, and carved out quiet corners for working, resting, and gathering.

I buy pieces that will last. I move things around with intention.  I teach my clients how to do the same. Designing for life’s transitions, not just for a single moment, brings longevity to your efforts and dollars.

Is there a daily ritual or moment in your home that brings you peace, inspiration, or a sense of rhythm?

Making coffee in the morning, with the animals at my feet and the back doors open to the field.  I can always count on the dogs to break up my day and get me outside to reset and to ground and remind myself what the whole point of it is!  That slowness can exist even in the middle of ambition. 

What does “home” mean to you, beyond four walls?

Home is where you’re allowed to evolve.
It’s where your grief is seen, your ideas are welcomed, and your rest is sacred. Being fairly nomadic before settling back here in the country, this was always the space I would come to when I needed clarity and craved quiet.  The space I grew up in has always been my refuge…I’m beyond happy to be able to be back here in my 40's (soon to be 50’s) to truly appreciate the way of life I was raised in.

For me, home has been a place to return to, but also a space to rebuild who I am, one season at a time.

When it comes to caring for your home, what practices feel most nourishing to you?

Tending to the gardens and cutting the grass…we have so many acres to cut, and it’s honestly my meditation.  Rearranging a room to suit our life better. If you ask anyone who knows me, my love for rearranging a space is unmatched! My kids know it’s best to just stand back and watch it unfold, but also be ready to help with the bigger pieces!

I’d say caring for home is less about “tasks” and more about building a relationship with the space.

What are some of the most meaningful objects in your home?

I would say at this point in our home’s transition (we are slowly updating everything) that the craftsmanship that I witness as I go through and update each room holds the most meaning.  My parents built the house themselves, so I feel such a great connection to my late Dad in almost everything I touch.  Knowing how much work it takes living on an acreage, I am in awe of what they accomplished and am humbled almost daily as I carry on the work.

 When you bring something new into your home, how do you decide it belongs?

It needs to feel honest. Not performative and definitely not trendy. Just right for how we live.

Will it hold up? Will it support how we move through the space? Does it add quiet beauty or quiet stress? That’s how I decide.

 How has your relationship with home changed over time?

Home used to be a project. Something to perfect. 

Now it’s a partnership. Something I tend to. Something that teaches me. Coming back here changed everything. It’s made me see the difference between designing and truly designing a life.

What book, poem, or piece of writing has shaped the way you think about home or slow living?

The Swan by Mary Oliver.
It’s a poem about noticing. About beauty, yes, but not beauty as performance. Beauty as presence.

That image of the swan drifting silently through the dark, then rising in this almost chaotic, breathtaking motion…it feels like what life has been for me these past few years. Quiet in some moments, overwhelming in others, but always worth paying attention to.

The final lines:
“And have you too finally figured out what beauty is for?
And have you changed your life?”
Those words stopped me in my tracks the first time I read them.

They remind me that real beauty is never surface-level. It’s in the noticing, the choosing, the way we hold space for ourselves and others; especially in times of change. That’s shaped everything from how I approach home design to how I mentor women navigating their own transitions.

 If your home could whisper one word to describe how it holds you, what would it say?

“Stay.”
Not in a stuck way, in a safe way. Like: you can rest here. You can figure it out. You’re allowed to be in process.

To learn more about Alana's mentorship program, "The Inner Circle", please sign up for her waitlist HERE. Seats open up this Fall. You can also follow her on Instagram @alanafletcherinteriors