Originally published in Permaculture Magazine issue 72 (Spring 2012)
Discovering permaculture was an epiphany for me. It gave me hope in a world seemingly gone mad. I finally had a framework for positive action. Sure, I knew we needed to plant trees and to ‘feed the world’, but now I had a way to figure out the where, when and how to go with the what. I’d discovered something that could really make a difference.
Permaculture excited me, and as a long term activist, I was eager to make up for lost time. I made a number of gardens in almost as many years and plenty of mistakes along the way. But that was ok; I was learning, and trial and error is how we master the most important things in life, like walking and talking. Naturally. This is called Action learning and one of the things I’ve learned is to celebrate those mistakes for the great lessons they are, rather than feel the shame that society encourages us to feel.
Another important thing I’ve learned is that slow and small solutions are very often the best way forward. Yes, the tortoise really can be quicker than the hare. Or at least end up working less to get there. But following that advice really can be hard for those of us seeing the urgency of the global situation. We want to act quickly, to do something before it’s too late. “Don’t just stand there, do something!”
Yet through permaculture, I’ve discovered the value of patience and protracted observation. I’ve learned this the hard way of course, by for instance my impatience to make gardens. I once laid out a few pallets around a mobile home where some decking was planned, so I knew where to start making my mulch beds. Only later did I start thinking about all the different uses I could make of such a deck and that two pallets deep would be a much more sensible size. I spent a lot of time rescuing plants from the shade under that structure while I was building it.