How to live a permaculture life

I grew up on a herb nursery in central Kurilpa, Meanjin (West End, Brisbane), a childhood I now realise was slightly odd. While Dad worked the nursery, Mum was a research librarian for the National Native Title Tribunal, supporting First Nations groups to make Native Title claims for their land. We were immersed in a life that questioned the status quo and actively shaped a different way of living.

Without a doubt, this informed my values and my approach to life. As a young adult, I skipped out on university and travelled extensively within Australia to learn about the social and environmental issues that concerned me – specifically, the climate emergency, land management and how to support First Nations Australians in working towards healing and justice. A few years later, I returned to university and was able to complete a Post Graduate Diploma in Community Cultural Development and, eventually, a Diploma in Permaculture.

My journey of discovery happened before the internet and mobile phones were common, so to learn about issues, it was more reliable to go and see and experience the truth firsthand, without the bias of mainstream media. So that’s what I did. It took me to the Woomera refugee detention centre, various forest blockades, the Aboriginal Tent Embassy, numerous joyous and chaotic share houses, and activist training events. During this time, I lived off the smell of an oily rag. I worked on farms, in nurseries and in gardens, and volunteered on several social sustainability projects.

Path to permaculture

Around this time, I was introduced to the renowned Food Forest in South Australia – one of the most impressive permaculture farms in Australia. While I’d known about permaculture since my young teens – the movement was founded in the 1970s by Bill Mollison and David Holmgren in Tasmania – it wasn’t until I met the two generous beauties who run the Food Forest, Annemarie and Graham Brookman, that the penny dropped. I learnt that it wasn’t just about gardening and farming, but rather, a holistic design framework that can be applied to anything – from economics, building design, and health and wellbeing, to culture and education, tools and technology, governance and, yes, land management.

I worked part-time in environmental campaigns and school gardens for a few years after that, and paused to study a two-week Permaculture Design Course. That’s where I had an epiphany. I thought, if we’re not happy with how the world’s running, it’s not enough to say ‘no’ or ‘stop’; we need to express the solutions and advocate for what we want instead.

I completed the course, went home, quit my environmental campaigning job and pivoted full-time to permaculture-focused projects. Permaculture is my positive form of activism. Sure, it nourishes me, but it also nourishes the land, my immediate community, and beyond. The wonderful thing about activism is that there are a million ways to do it. Everyone can be an activist – it’s just about finding what suits
you best. For me, that’s permaculture.

A place to call home

Somewhere along the way, I met my delightful sweetheart, Anton, a fellow activist and gardener, and we eventually moved to nipaluna, lutruwita (Hobart, Tasmania). In early 2013, we managed to buy a property, where we’ve lived ever since. We call it a freak accident, as technically, we couldn’t afford to live in such a spectacular location. But the stars aligned to deliver us this old house on a very steep block with no access. Our younger bones and hearts leapt at the chance, and we haven’t looked back. In 2017, we bought the neighbouring weed block, which meant we finally had driveway access and could develop our gardens even more.

In 2015, our much-loved Frida Maria arrived and has made a splendid addition to the team. When folks ask how to get kids involved in gardening or related pursuits, all I can say is – make it their normal. Young people are great joiners-in. If you are milking a goat, they’ll want to milk the goat; if you’re planting or harvesting vegies, they’ll be there doing the same – sometimes to the point of annoyance!

Our property is 2.7km from the centre of the city and is just under 3000m2. It’s home to rambling orchards, vegies, food forests, goats, honey bees, ducks and chooks. It’s drenched in sunshine, colour, and love. And while we have an incredibly rich, good life, we’re more interested in supporting others to have the same in their own context. With this in mind, we angle all our work towards building resilience and creating a climate-safe future. We do this in different ways. Anton and two friends co-founded the Good Car Company, which imports secondhand electric cars across Australia to help de-carbonise transport. Meanwhile, I run Good Life Permaculture, focusing on permaculture design, education, and building community and resilience. We’re fuelled by radical hope.

In the context of the climate emergency, radical hope is about having hope in the face of huge uncertainty, and doing everything that you can to help, knowing it might not work, but doing it anyway – because it just might. This is not blind optimism; it’s love and courage in action.

Header image credit: Natalie Mendham