Permaculture Designer | Project Manager | Event Manager | Community Builder
As a child in the Swiss Alps, I spent every free moment outside - climbing trees, playing football between them, feeling at home in nature.
The only time my mother could bring me inside was when the helicopters came. Spraying pesticides over the vineyards, forcing us indoors. My lungs burned, my head ached, and for the first time, I felt that nature wasn’t always safe.
No one questioned it. It was just how things were. But something inside me knew - this wasn’t how things were meant to be.
That feeling never left.
In Nicaragua, just after my first Permaculture Design Course, I was given a small piece of land - not as an opportunity, but because no one wanted it.
“Do whatever you want with it,” they said. “Nothing grows there anyway.”
The soil was dry, lifeless. I had no idea if they were right, but I planted anyway.
At first, I worked in uncertainty. I didn’t fully know what I was doing, but I had new knowledge, fresh inspiration, and a deep desire to try. I observed, I experimented, I tested and adapted. And then - it began to grow.
First small, then more and more, until there was no doubt left:
Even the most damaged land can come back to life if we give it what it needs.
Only later did I fully understand why it had worked. The trees, the soil, the water cycles - everything was connected, part of a system we are meant to work with, not against.
I hadn’t just regenerated land. The land had taught me how it regenerates itself.
That moment changed everything. It was the first real proof I had seen - not just in theory, but in the soil, in my hands.
From the very beginning, I was driven to share this inspiration. The moment I saw regeneration in action, I knew I had to teach others, to spread this knowledge, and to empower more people to take part in this process.
What started as a personal discovery became a lifelong mission - to educate, to inspire, and to pass on the tools of regeneration.
To this day, that passion remains.
Later in my journey, while regenerating a plot in Sardinia, I found myself working to restore the last remaining green space in an industrial wasteland. Bit by bit, life returned. The soil softened. Green pushed through the cracks. Birds nested where concrete once ruled.
Then COVID hit. Everything stopped. The factories fell silent, the air cleared, and for the first time in years, flamingos returned - right there, in the middle of the industrial zone.
It was undeniable proof: Nature doesn’t need saving. It just needs space to heal.
For a moment, I believed we had turned a corner. That this pause had shown the world what was possible. But just as quickly, the system rushed back in to reclaim what it had lost. The factories reopened, pollution filled the sky, and as if nature’s brief comeback had been an insult, fire ripped through the land - burning half of it to the ground.
I stood there, watching everything I had worked for disappear in flames, and I realized something:
Regeneration isn’t just about fighting for nature. It’s about making space for it to thrive.
We spend so much time trying to control, to resist, to fix. But when we step back, when we design with nature instead of against it, life finds its way back.
That was the moment I truly understood: Our impact matters -but so does our absence.
If destruction happens fast, so can regeneration - if we choose to let it.
For years, I searched for answers on my own. I watched forests disappear, fertile land turn to dust, and green initiatives focus only on protecting what was already depleted. It felt like everything was slipping away, and no one had a real plan to reverse the damage.
The deeper I investigated, the more overwhelming it became.
Looking back, I am deeply grateful that I found the regenerative movement - a space where real solutions exist. Not just ideas, but living proof.
Land once considered dead was producing food. Water cycles were being restored. People were regenerating ecosystems—not just preserving what was left. Knowing that these solutions exist kept me going.
I went from a volunteer to a visionary, from simply working on projects to designing entire systems—rethinking how we use land, how we build communities, and how we integrate with the natural world.
I’ve learned that sustainability is not about doing less harm, but about actively rebuilding, restoring, and designing the spaces we live in so that nature and people thrive together.
True regeneration is not just about ecosystems - it’s about culture. The way we live, connect, and collaborate must also be regenerative, creating communities that nurture resilience, reciprocity, and long-term well-being.
Regeneration is not a dream - it’s a practical, scalable reality when we commit to working with natural systems instead of forcing our own. It means rethinking how we grow food, how we build, and how we interact - not just with the land, but with each other.
I now collaborate with landowners, investors, and communities to bring this vision to life - transforming degraded spaces into thriving, self-sustaining ecosystems while fostering a culture of regeneration.
This isn’t just about nature. It’s about how we live, how we build, and how we shape the future.
I no longer ask if regeneration is possible. I ask how far we’re willing to go to make it inevitable.
Let's Talk.
+41(0)77 465 14 08
contact@jonathancina.re