10 regenerative insights from 29 days in Japan

From Matcha, Cedar to Spirit’s Rebirth

This journey began with the dynamism of a city of millions, the scent of cedar, the silence of temples, and a silent invitation to return to something more profound. I did not travel to Japan to escape, but to remember. I arrived in the spring after a winter in the Netherlands, a golden week in Valencia, and joyful days in Lisbon. A Portuguese massage therapist told me last year, “You need more light in your life.” Japan did not blind me with brightness; it gave me light.

From the silence of Tokyo’s shrines to the innovative energy of Expo 2025 in Osaka, I encountered a culture where regeneration is not a concept but a lived commitment. It flows through craftsmanship, community, and consciousness. Japan offers more than just inspiration for those who shape the urban future; it is a reminder that regenerative design is not about fixing what is broken but about creating conditions in which life can thrive.

This is not a travelogue, but a field report. City after city, insight after insight, I saw how Sanford’s regenerative principles – such as working from essence, nested systems and development potential – are theoretical and tangible. This is what I learned during my 29-day trip through Japan.

1.     Regeneration Begins with Essence, Not Intervention

Insight: To Regenerate Is to Begin Gently

On April 16th, as cherry blossoms bloomed in Tokyo, I flowed between shrines, ramen shops, anime stores, and business meetings. Amid Shibuya's rush and Ueno's reverence, I saw that transformation need not start with disruption. It starts with essence – with the seed of what already wants to grow. Essence doesn’t start with striving, but with stillness. Tokyo reminded me to begin again, gently with kindness. Regeneration isn’t a fix; it’s a remembering. Cities, too, must start by asking: What is our unique essence? Only then can we design from truth, not trend.

2.     Development Over Repair

Insight: Craft Is Infrastructure for the Human Spirit

In Kyoto, I learned about Japanese woodworking tools (kanna, nomi, kanazuchi, nokogiri, and ha) and mended ceramics through Kintsugi. These weren’t hobbies – they were rituals of devotion. Craft is development in action: it refines, repeats, and deepens. Regeneration is a slow mastery — a return to the hands to the handmade and honouring the process. Regeneration is not a reset button. It’s a rhythm. Patience, mastery, intention. This is how wood, cities, and humans return to life. Carol Sanford taught us that regeneration is not about fixing symptoms but developing potential. What if our cities treated housing, streets, and public life as craft, with patience, reverence, and care?

3.     Place as a Living System

Insight: Places Can Heal

In Nara, I fed sacred deer, tasted hand-pounded mochi, and felt the land speak. When treated as living beings, parks and public spaces can regenerate us emotionally and spiritually. Urban planners can move from seeing a place as static to recognising it as a nested system—interacting with body, mind, culture, and nature. In Nara, and certainly in Kyoto and Tokyo, it often felt like space held a soul. It was as if the land were breathing with you, and in that breath, healing began. This was a connection. Japanese cities in general reminded me that harmony (Wa 和) is not a concept but an atmosphere – a living cocoon in which regeneration can unfold.

4.     Embrace the Evolutionary Potential of Imperfection

Insight: Imperfect Systems Can Still Be Beautiful

At a tea house in Oji, I learned the beauty of Wabi-sabi: the acceptance of the unfinished, the becoming. In a small studio in Kyoto, I found a small, cracked dish and repaired it with gold. Kintsugi. I didn’t have to be perfect; I had to be whole. And wholeness, I learned, includes the cracks. Wabi-sabi taught me to see the cracks not as flaws, but as fingerprints of life. What I once wanted to erase now holds the most meaning. Wabi-sabi is more than an aesthetic – it’s a philosophy. The crack in the ceramic, the faded edge of a scroll, the misshapen bowl: all symbols of a life lived honestly. In a world where polished clothes are essential, Japan reminded me that scars are sacred. According to Sanford, systems evolve by embracing potential, not controlling outcomes. Cities don’t have to be perfect. They must be vibrant, adaptive, evolving – they must thrive toward their purpose through feedback, reflection, and renewal.

5.     Work from Wholeness and Integration

Insight: The Heart Knows the Way

In Tokyo, I felt how a city can contain contradictions – ancient temples and tall modern towers, anime and ancestors – and yet be a whole. Regenerative systems do not separate parts but work from a whole (the whole bigger than the sum of its parts). Integration is not about efficiency but coherence, alignment, and depth. Although I had pinned a few places on Google Maps to visit, wandering brought me pleasant surprises and good vibes. Tokyo’s pulsating, paradoxical heart, amid neon chaos and silent shrines, I realised that the map I needed was not digital but internal. Kokoro (心). I followed it and it never misled me.

6.     Create Conditions for Spaciousness

Insight: Less is More

The elegance of Himeji Castle lies not in what is added, but in what is taken away. The gardens are not overcrowded – they are composed for presence. Minimalism (最小限主義) in Japan is not sterile; it is sacred. Less makes room for presence, breath, and awareness in gardens, teahouses, and even minimalist shops. Regeneration is not about adding more; it is about freeing up enough space for essence to emerge. Himeji Castle stands strong in elegant simplicity. White walls. Sparse gardens. Not emptiness but essence. Regeneration is not cluttered. It is clear. A single beam, perfectly placed, can carry generations. Sanford reminds us that life flourishes when it is not overexploited. When I talked to the oldest company in the world (construction company Kongō Gumi) about their longevity secret, an employee told me: “I heard that the secret to a bird and animal is to focus on their main business”. Cities that value silence, sensory depth, and spaciousness offer a kind of urban abundance that no skyscraper skyline can replace.

7.     Design with Nature as Co-Creator

Insight: Nature Is Not a Backdrop. It’s the Blueprint.

In Kobe, I wandered through flower and herb gardens and examined tools to transform trees into temples. Here, nature was not just decoration but the heart of everything. Regeneration does not mean seeing nature as a limitation or a commodity, but as a co-creator and blueprint for creating conditions conducive to life. Cities of the future must be designed with the intelligence of life. Discovering Japan during Sakura made me extra aware of spring and the start of a new year. Forest bathing here was more than an exercise. It is a memory. The trees – especially the cherry blossoms and Daisugi (台杉 / a traditional Japanese forestry technique for sustainable tree pruning) – teach me to move and trust the blossoming. Through shinrin-yoku (forest bathing 森林浴), Zen gardens, and Sakura blossoms, I understood that the earth does not hurry. Neither do I. Generation has a rhythm, and it goes slower than we think. Spring unfolded slowly in me, too – each petal a whisper: there is no need to hurry to bloom.

8.     Foster Connection Across Distance

Insight: Connection Is Regenerative – Even Travelling Solo

In Nagoya, I experienced playfulness in LEGOLAND and touched clay cups and teapots in a famous pottery village. Although alone, I shared my experience with my loved ones and connected with locals, I was never lonely. I felt connected to the spirit, strangers, and the silent language of the land. Regeneration created space for new and deeper bonds to blossom. Every train ride, quiet meal, and temple visit brought unexpected company – sometimes with people, often with places, always with me. Osaka, Tokyo, Kyoto, Oji, Kobe, Himeji, and Osaka offered space for laughter, wandering, and spontaneous connections (Thank you, Kensuke, Akane, Johan, Camilla, David, Eli, and Sofia for being part of my journey through Japan – your presence made it more meaningful). I came alone, but left fuller, with stories, glances, and deep nods of understanding. Regeneration loves company, even in solitude. Regeneration fosters right relationships between people, across generations, through time and space. Urban design must consider emotional ecology, not just physical proximity.

9.     Inner Development Shapes Outer Systems

Insight: Regeneration Starts from Within

At Expo 2025 in Osaka Kansai—an event that brings together people and innovations from all over the world to address humanity’s challenges on a global scale—pavilions shared their visions on the theme ‘Designing the Future Society for Our Lives’. Expo's objectives are to contribute to achieving the Sustainable Development Goals and realising Japan’s national strategy, Society 5.0. I walked over the wooden Grand Ringand visited the Dutch pavilion, TechWorld, and Future City. The most valuable insight was personal: the regenerative movement starts with inner clarity. When leaders deepen their development in regeneration, wiser systems emerge. People can create the conditions conducive to life that allow regenerative cities to evolve. Whether wandering through the parks or dreaming in the Forest of Tranquillity at Expo 2025 or in Kobe’s mix of mountains and sea, sitting in my hotel room following the Regenerative Leadership course live sessions, I felt a balance that reflected my inner work. Regeneration in urban environments starts from within.

10.  Idealism Is a Regenerative Force

Insight: Too Much? Or Just What’s Needed?

In Japan, I entered the world of Ghibli and other anime – imaginative, bold, soulful, and full of life. For a moment, I wondered if my evolutionary vision of urban environments wasn’t “too much and unrealistic” for the classic stakeholders in urban environments. But innovation isn’t always about being realistic. It’s about seeing potential that others don’t yet see and creating the conditions for it to come to life. Sometimes, too much and unrealistic is needed. In Japan, I confronted the part of myself that I feared was “too idealistic, too weird, too spiritual”. Now I recognise that part as my strength. It’s the root of my creative rebellion – not to conform, but to regenerate. I have been afraid of a part of me: the dreamer, the idealist, the rebel with a cause who refuses to conform to the status quo. In Japan, that part stood tall. I understand now: the world doesn’t need me to conform – it needs me to regenerate. Systems. Spaces. Souls. I met myself somewhere between Tokyo and Kyoto on the Shinkansen that raced through the landscape. Not the edited version, but the nomad who dares to feel deeply, speak softly, and dream wildly. That part of me continues to unfold. And it regenerates the (urban) world.

What’s Next on My Regenerative Journey?

My Tour for Regeneration was more than a trip. It was an embodied inquiry into what it means to build futures that create conducive conditions for life. Portugal, Oslo, Helsinki, Riyadh, and Valencia deepened my commitment to regeneration in the urban environment. Japan provided me with a more profound commitment to move from insight to integration, from exploration to co-creation. Now, I’m ready to collaborate with Pioneering decision-makers in the urban environment, such as city councils, board members, architects, urbanists, investors, entrepreneurs, trailblazers, innovators, with

• Soul-stirring talks like The Regenerative City Begins Within, From Moonshots to Earth shots or On Tour for Regeneration – Catalysing a New Paradigm for Cities, Business, and the Human Spirit.

• High-end strategic project or organisational development support; 

• Personalised 1-on-1 executive coaching journeys;

Let’s reimagine cities as living systems, designed from the essence and developed from within.

Menno Lammers | April 2025

Rooted in Craft. Guided by Spirit. Committed to Regeneration.