Three years ago, in Alentejo, Portugal, the first edition of the regenerative festival the Gathering of Tribes took roots. A mostly regional initiative at the time, it shone a light on the many community-based and alternative projects flourishing in this corner of Europe. In September 2024, the second edition sprouted — this time as an international gathering. People came from all directions of our green planet and set camp in a forest near Ponte de Lima in the north of Portugal for a small week, drawn by a common pulse: the desire to connect, to share, and to be.
What follows is a mosaic of impressions, questions, and quiet revelations of what happens when humankind slows down, and we look at each other, not through our differences, but through our shared needs!
What on earth is a regenerative festival?
The Gathering of Tribes was not your usual festival with stages and line up. It was a living, breathing constellation of camps — each self-organised, each a little world of its own. People came together in the forest, pitching tents and building temporary villages. Every camp, in charge of their own offerings: workshops, dance ceremonies, “TED-style” talks, healing spaces, open Q&As, and more. In between those happenings: spontaneous walks through the woods, deep conversations by the lake, unexpected meetings under the trees…. It was not only about sharing content but also about making connections — between humans, ideas, and the land.
Though it seems like it would be a good thing to define exactly what a regenerative festival is, letting everyone imagine what regenerative means for themselves was also part of the game. If you want to tune in with what happened at the Gathering, take a moment to ask yourself what regenerative means to you!
For me it was mostly the tools that the gatherers use as a way to set humanity on the path of regeneraissance. Around us, nature was omnipresent! Allowing this beautiful equilibrium between conversation and silence, movement and stillness, togetherness and solitude… In retrospect it seems that regeneration is a symbiotic event that needs to happen simultaneously on a personal and a communal level!
The art of asking questions
During those five days, my mind melted a little. More than 500 people gathered to co-create a better future, asking big questions about the place of humanity within this vast, beautiful chaos. The central theme — How in a rapidly changing world do we reinvent our eco-system? How do we find our rightful place within Nature? How do we ensure that both lands and humanity thrives — woven together in relationships of mutual care and benefit?… — These questions echoed softly through the days and nights.
And the answers — if they came at all — came through presence, through the body, through the land. Through shared rhythm, touch, songs, silence.
Sometimes the answers took the shape of more questions — and there is something deeply beautiful about that! To be surrounded by people who, while fully aware of the urgency of our times, still have the capacity to slow down, to sit under trees, to really look and listen to one another… it felt like a collective breath.
A pause to accept the chaos
Humanity has been racing forward like a headless chicken, each era trying to fix the mess left by the one before. Finding solutions to problems created by previous generations as they were themselves trying to solve the one of their predecessors. It feels like this problem-solution-problem cycle is accelerating: lack of biodiversity, drought and wild fire, heavy rains, rising seas and displaced families. Humanity has no choice but to acknowledge the grief of a changing planet, of a lost civilisation. Like a teenager entering adulthood, we must face our trauma. Acknowledge that this erratic pattern doesn’t work anymore.
At first when the trauma is recognised, there is not much to do. Maybe to have a look at it in silence? Sitting around and observing with curiosity and asking: “Do you see it too?”, “How did that get there?”, “How can we heal this?”
Every morning, I walked through the forest, surrounded by trees and birdsong. I saw humans alone, seated under trees — meditating, breathing, or writing in notebooks. Others gathered in small tribes meeting for morning circles, checking in with each other. I crossed paths with wanderers like me, walking quietly, watching leaves and insects. With some, I shared a word, a smile, a hug, with others I just passed in silence.
Everything seemed to fall into place. The chaos was still there all around but inside each of us, there was a will to accept that not everything can be controlled or solved. It struck me that we, homo sapiens, have spent more time living like this, slowly, surrounded by nature, than any other way. Walking, singing, sharing food. This life — slow, grateful, connected, attentive — feels more normal than the so-called ‘normal’ I was taught at school.
Suddenly the things that seemed so threatening yesterday became a bit more bearable, as the calm of everyone seemed to offer a certain clarity and understanding.
The Language of the Body
I began to notice how much was being said without words. But it does not always mean by being silent. Through the days lots of the activities were based around reconnecting with our instinctive nature, somatic movement, walks, bathing naked, ecstatic dancing or yoga…
Stomp the earth
On several occasions we danced, sometimes in small groups, as drums replied to each other in improvised jam sessions — sometimes in a bigger jumping crowd in front of a stage.
Through our movements and energy, we released something. I believe that the body — long before words — was our first way of saying I’m here. And I believe the body, more than the mind, is where we store emotions.
Now that the trauma was revealed into the light, we could shake it off together!
The paradox of trauma is that it has both the power to destroy and the power to transform and resurrect.
Peter A. Levine
Barefoot in the sand, we danced and stomped the earth. Cradled by the trees we looked into each other. We shook our pains — personal and collective — and offered them back to the elements in the form of screams, laughter, and sweat.
Reclaiming our tribal form, we all knew the language of music. All of it spoke of grief, of joy, of longing. Of life pulsing through limbs. Of us and our place in Nature. It was simple and at the same time cathartic. It was important!
Naked Without Shame
During the warm hours of the day, some of us jumped into the lake or took cold baths. Most of us naked. Taking a break under the shadow of the trees. Nudity wasn’t loud. It wasn’t provocative or sexual. It was just… Nudity. Skin was not a spectacle, but an unspoken rebellion — a way to reclaim the fur we’re all born in.
Far from fashion billboards and mirrors, I realised how easy it is to return to this state. To stop measuring ourselves against the inhumane standards choking us on social media! Somehow stripped of our armour, something honest began to surface — raw, tender, human. Seeing one another for what we are, all the same and all different.
Creativity and the pulse of being alive
I have been taught that creativity was a skill — something you learned, something some people were good at and others weren’t. But at the Gathering, it was reclaimed for what it is: a vital activity in the flow of being. In every corner, someone was creating — writing a poem, painting or tracing sacred geometry, playing music, performing…
Some art was more subtle, created through time and the invisible thread of collective intention: for example a simple arrangement of rocks, sticks, and flowers forming a beautiful altar or roundabout in the middle of the forest. A place for everyone to gather and sit around!
We may not be responsible for the world that created our minds, but we can take responsibility for the mind with which we create our world.
Gabor Maté
As a storyteller, I truly believe that the stories we tell ourselves shape our future. Expanding our vocabulary is a way to tilt the direction the boat is taking. Being surrounded by so much art and co-creation made me realise that every form of artistic expression is a way to enrich this vocabulary. Kafka once said: “All language is but a poor translation.” Art, in all its forms, offers access to other ways of communicating. Some of which have the power to reconnect us deeply with one another, with our inner child and with Nature.
In a way, isn’t art what Nature is doing when carbon atoms play with each other to form a flower, a tree, or a bird? By imitating it, we are reclaiming our place within it.
Closing thoughts of our first regenerative festival
This is just the beginning! And a well needed beginning, you are most welcome to join the party!
All of this reminded us that the moment we start seeking what unites us — rather than what separates us — is the moment we begin to inspire each other. It’s the moment communication becomes a bridge, not just to speak, but to co-create. To reconnect. And it’s when we close the gap between you and I that we find ourselves in the space that allows us to lick our wounds.
Being Nature is encoded in our very DNA. Dancing, meditating, playing music — aren’t just hobbies, they’re ancient human languages. Somewhere along the way, we turned these ways of being into activities. So our feet stomped the earth to the rhythm of drums, hugs became our standard greeting — between friends and strangers alike — and mornings began with circles and meditation thanking the trees, the water, the sun and each other for being.
If this still feels a little strange to you, I hope this article planted a small seed — and invited you to pause, and to water it. To enjoy Life and to look around. To listen — especially to those who cannot speak or to those you disagree with. So,…
Dance for yourself,
Move with intention,
Create for the sake of creating,
Find out what it means, for you, to regenerate!
Hug me Baby one more time
Bear hugs were truly the standard greeting at a regenerative festival. Thousands of hugs were shared. It would feel unfair not to share a handful of them in a small gallery full of beautiful people!
So you wanna go to the next regenerative festival?
I realise this article doesn’t go into much detail about the practical side of things. But The Gathering wasn’t just about sharing stories or dancing barefoot under the stars — it was also fertile ground for networking, exchanging contacts, and planting the seeds of future collaborations. While we left deeply inspired, others left with new partnership ideas and work opportunities, reinforcing the sense that regeneration is an all-encompassing journey where life, pleasure, and work blend into a new way of being.
I hope it inspires you to reconnect with yourself. And if you’re curious about partnerships and networking, here’s how you can tap into what’s brewing next for the community:
- Join the telegram group of the Gathering, it’s very much alive and a great way to connect with this beautiful regenerative community.
- Visit the Regenerative Festival website, there are announcements for what’s coming next.
- Follow the Gathering on Linked in and Instagram,
- And last but not least, join our newsletter. We’re now part of the family, and something tells me this won’t be the last time we check in to see what’s happening there!
