Over the past decade working across heritage, wellbeing, and community development, I have seen a pattern that is hard to ignore. Many projects are full of passion, skill, and genuine commitment to helping people thrive, yet they fall short when it comes to showing funders the true value of their work. It is never because they lack impact. It is almost always because they lack meaningful evaluation.

Across workplaces and community spaces, people often find themselves searching for the same thing. They want to feel connected, valued, and part of something that has purpose. They want to feel that their efforts matter, whether they are contributing through their job, volunteering in their local area, or taking part in a project that brings people together. This shared desire sits at the heart of wellbeing, yet the kind of wellbeing that truly sustains us goes deeper than momentary happiness.

Not long ago, I was speaking with someone who had been feeling stretched and tired at work. When I asked what had genuinely lifted their spirits recently, they paused, then said, “Someone thanked me… properly. Not in a scripted way, just a simple ‘You really helped me today.’ I didn’t realise how much I needed that.”

Every November, the nation pauses. We gather in silence, we wear the poppy, and we remember. But remembrance is more than commemoration. It is an act of reflection that connects memory to meaning, and the past to our present wellbeing.

We often talk about wellbeing as if it is simply about happiness, but what truly helps people move forward to find meaning, confidence, and purpose lies much deeper. At the Mimir Collective, we explore that question every day. Across the arts, community, and wellbeing sectors, we see how the right environments can help people move beyond coping to truly flourishing.

Across the heritage, arts, and community sectors, the conversation about wellbeing has never been more relevant. Projects that connect people to history, place, and culture are often described as transformative, improving confidence, belonging, and emotional resilience. These accounts are powerful and moving, yet they are not always supported by the kind of robust and demonstrable evidence that helps decision-makers, funders, and policymakers understand their true value.

When we talk about veteran wellbeing, we often focus on mental health. That is understandable, given how many people who leave the Armed Forces face anxiety, depression, or trauma. But while mental health is an important part of the story, it is not the whole story. Wellbeing is not simply the absence of distress; it is the presence of meaning, connection, and purpose. It is what allows a person not only to recover but to live fully again.