“Regenerative” is turning into quite a buzzword these days and it’s exciting to see humans integrating nature into structural and systems design in so many sectors. In all the discourse, I’ve noticed some people calling themselves “regenerative,” and I keep wondering what happens when humans put on that word like a hat.
What does it mean to be regenerative?
What does it mean to be “regenerative”? Here’s some definitions from Merriam-Webster:
- of, relating to, or marked by regeneration
- tending to regenerate
Okay, so, what is regeneration, then?
- an act or the process of regenerating : the state of being regenerated
- spiritual renewal or revival
- renewal or restoration of a body, bodily part, or biological system (such as a forest) after injury or as a normal process
- utilization by special devices of heat or other products that would ordinarily be lost
In these definitions, we see that regeneration isn’t a static quality, it’s fundamentally a process. It describes movement and transformation rather than a fixed state of being.
Anything that’s “regenerative” can be classified as such because it operates within a framework that allows for regeneration. Calling something “regenerative” therefore doesn’t actually describe what it is, but instead describes the principles that govern it: how it does what it does.
In the example of a farm: calling it “regenerative” is shorthand to describe the practices employed on the farm, which create a system that restores itself, cycles nutrients, gives back more than it takes (i.e. through cultivating soil health, biodiversity, etc).
Principles vs. identity
The Merriam-Webster dictionary defines identity as:
- “the distinguishing character or personality of an individual : individuality (i.e. a strong sense of identity)”
- “who someone is : the name of a person (i.e. the suspect’s identity is not known.)”
- “the relation established by psychological identification (i.e. his art reflects his cultural identity.)”
Alternatively, and interestingly, identity can also be:
- “sameness in all that constitutes the objective reality of a thing (i.e. the sense of identity arising in a shared experience)”
Now, let’s also assume that life itself is regenerative. In that case, being regenerative is an inherent quality to all of life as we know it: people, the earth, and every other being that lives here. So, as a foundational principle of life, “regenerative” is not really something that can be seen as a “distinguishing” characteristic for any one individual.
But that doesn’t really stop people from using the word in such a way to somehow emphasize it as a static quality that uniquely defines them (personality, way of being, perspective etc). And if someone calls themselves regenerative, by nature, yes, of course they are – but how does the person actually relate to that as a label? Does that label enhance the experience of interconnectedness of this person and all of life around it as a shared identity, or does it emphasize this person’s regenerative qualities as separate, particular, or unique?
The paradox of identity
Labels can be useful shortcuts to simplify something, and “regenerative” is a powerful word. It’s not about the label itself, but our connection to it, and how we see ourselves when we give ourselves labels to wear. When labels flatten our curiosity and erase the unseeable, we allow ourselves to be confined by them rather than empowered.
When “regenerative” – or any other adjective for that matter – is used as a label, the label becomes attached to our identity which inherently associates it with the ego-self.
The tricky thing about this is, by nature of being the “conscious” mind in an infinite universe of unfathomable things, the ego-self uses hiding mechanisms in order to sustain itself and its unique identity, like burying or ignoring things that are not itself as it perceives itself (i.e. the “unconscious”). Otherwise, the ego would simply cease to exist and dissolve back into the one-ness of the infinite universe of unfathomable things.
So paradoxically, labelling oneself as “[insert adjective here]” often makes it even more likely someone will “unsee” behaviors, habits, motivations and thought patterns that are not “[stated adjective],” even if that label represents the desired state.
Identity and integration
It is beautiful to be distinct and unique, but it is also quite ephemeral.
As individual beings, in a universe filled with unfathomable things, is it even realistic to limit ourselves to specific labels? Think of all the people you’ve been, from your baby-self to your present self, and think about all the people you will be until you die – how can you possibly predict all of those identities, labels, versions of being you?
And what about our identity as a species? What makes us distinct and separate from each other (or from nature itself for that matter), and what sameness do we objectively share?
What happens when humans place conscious attention on the whole, acknowledging and honoring what is “separate” – the unknown, the mysterious, the forgotten, the unconscious, the “other,” – as part of the whole, instead of one specific version of being?
The ego is an exquisite mechanism designed to support life here on earth, we just have to know how to use it to our advantage.
We can burn up ego energy maintaining a specific state of identification, or we can simply observe our complex, infinite, ever-evolving being-selves in relation to our stated principles and values.
Unlike separate identities, values live between us, enacted wherever they are practiced (so anyone can join in). That, I would argue, is what makes them the real connective tissue of any shared identity: not a boundary drawn around the self, but a “something bigger” we all long to be part of. And while this requires a certain level of detachment from the ever-interesting experience of “what does it mean to be me right now?” it is actually a lot easier to maintain in the long run.
What becomes possible when we direct our highly intelligent egos to study: how do I center life around regenerative principles? Using the ego this way allows for continual, curious integration – it encompasses the processes of our internal identification and external experimentation, in tangible service of the desired state of being.
When we embrace “the whole,” there is more openness. That openness is what allows for honesty and deeper understanding, which is the key to having real agency to make choices in alignment with the principles we say value.
Aligning action from a place of personal identity is fickle, while aligning action from a place of integration is an enduring practice.
And isn’t that what we need if we want to change the world?
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