Regenerative Mindsets in a Concrete World
Nature finds her way (note: this is NOT the type of architecture I decry in this story).
As I’ve wandered around parts of Portugal in search of my next nest, now staying for a spell in Caldas da Rainha, I am struck by the juxtaposition of beautiful natural environments cheek-by-jowel with -- let’s call it what it is -- ugly concrete urbanity. Sure, there is plenty of gorgeous architecture here, particularly in well-preserved historic districts. The intricate tile work visible on building facades and interiors is a sight to behold. The wild nature on offer – rugged coastlines, thick forests, mountain wilderness, seaside estuaries – is a significant draw for me, after 9 years of making do with the absence of wild in The Netherlands. Still, so much of the urban scape I’ve so far seen in this country is one ugly concrete building after another, constructed for purely practical reasons with seemingly no thought given to the human craving for beauty or the benefits of easy access to a natural environment (or better yet: being surrounded by nature!).
I’ve learned that these monolithic concrete buildings are the result of the mid-20th century embrace of the Brutalist architecture style, which filled the need for fast, cheap, functional housing and public buildings after WWII. I get it. This approach filled a time-sensitive need. And yet -- fast, cheap and functional isn’t built to last. And here these buildings remain, having lasted well beyond their (un)natural lives. Most are in some stage of disrepair. They are not suited to Portugal’s maritime climate (the planners didn’t plan for that), so most suffer from rot, mould, and rust. And a really bad case of The Uglies. This building style also coincided with the reign of Portugal’s fascist dictator Salazar, a period of time in which women were expected to stay at home (ugh! In some of these homes?), take care of the kids, and keep their mouths shut. No wonder I get the shivers walking by these monstrosities.
On a personal level, this means I will be really really picky about my next nest. I am holding out for beauty, human-centered design, a view onto and/or easy access to nature, and zero mould.
This has all gotten me thinking about the broader metaphor here: the pursuit of fast, cheap and practical in a world full of humans who still crave beauty, meaning, and long-term sustainability. The Portugal brutalist building style is the literal expression of what is wrong with fast/cheap/practical. And it has human consequences. For those living and working in these buildings or simply surrounded by them with little exposure to beauty and nature, I have to imagine this takes a huge toll on how they think about themselves and their world. There are studies out there linking absence of beauty and distance from nature with stress, depression, lack of meaning, poor attention and other mental/ emotional afflictions.
Here’s a definition of beauty I like (I don’t know to whom to attribute this quote. I got it from this video):
In the presence of beauty the powerful passions that awaken lift us out of our ordinary, mundane state of being, and we are filled with a profound longing to become more virtuous – more worthy of the beauty we are beholding. Beauty, by stimulating our noble passions, summons our higher self.
Which brings me to schools and school leadership. To what degree do we in the world of schools emphasize nature and beauty as essential parts of the human experience, and therefore something to prioritize in schools? If we don’t, what is stopping us, and what are the consequences? I’d say they are profound. I know our schools are not places where fast and cheap are the norm. Still, we can too easily get focused on some version of the practical (i.e. emphasis on scores and grades; prioritizing STEM and de-prioritizing the arts; addressing climate change through a unit in biology or an after-school activity) and relegating nature and beauty to ‘nice to haves.’
Our planet is suffering because of the fast/ cheap/ practical mentality. Our schools have a huge role to play in counteracting that, since we’re educating the humans who are stewards of the planet. It’s the reason I’m drawn to what appears to be a growing movement of Regenerative Education, a movement that emphasizes systems that restore, renew, and revitalize themselves and their surroundings. This approach re-centers nature and beauty as essentials to the human experience, essentials that, by the way, AI can never replace.
I am so thrilled to be hosting a Sidecar Summit in Spain this coming April focused on this vital topic of regeneration. The location of the Summit – The Home of the Pioneers, in Spain’s Muga Valley – is essential to our aims for the gathering. By immersing themselves in a regenerative location, summiteers will remind themselves of the importance of nature and beauty in what it is to be human. They will witness and experience firsthand what Mother Nature can do when she’s got the space to regenerate herself. They will reflect on what it means to be a regenerative leader. They will create lasting connections with others in the supportive ecosystem of regenerative education. They will leave with regenerative mindsets ready to take on concrete worlds.
Join us! Summit dates are April 16-19, 2026 (April in Spain!). Registration deadline is November 7, 2025.
Nature and beauty are easily accessible in the Muga Valley. I plan to create my own version of Muga Valley in whatever place I’m lucky enough to call home. If it happens to offer a view of a brutalist monolith, I’ll frame the window with greenery and tint the glass a rosy hue.
Yours in appreciating the room with a view that brings out our humanness,
Bridget
P.S. A spot has just opened up for the Portugal summit on Love-Based Leadership this November (17-21). Contact me ASAP if interested.
P.P.S. Still 4 spots available for Sidecar Summit Cambodia. Ditto.
