When I first began learning about and practicing permaculture, I was in it for simple organic growing and soil improvement techniques. I just wanted to create a food forest in our sandlot of a yard. I had no idea in the beginning how much it would change my thinking and approach to other areas of my life.
Permaculture’s Beginnings
I grew up in the 70s. Johnson was president when I was born and he had begun some environmental legislation, but I have no memories of recycling or even hearing about recycling until I was in my 20s. It was a less wasteful time then though. My mom made homemade meals. Even the snacks I remember eating were fresh u-picked fruit, or popsicles my mother made in plastic molds. When we outgrew our jeans, they were made into cut-offs. We played in nature and didn’t have too many toys. Milk was delivered in glass bottles that were picked back up at the next delivery from a box on our front porch.
And yet, landfills and pollution were already starting to get worrisome. The first time I remember being aware of a problem was in a television ad that featured a Native American man (sadly, a non-native actor) paddling through pollution and shedding a tear. The PSA tagline: “People start pollution. People can stop it.” It played on our emotions. And people were starting to get a clue. The first Earth Day was in 1970, but I wasn’t aware of conservation concerns quite yet. It wasn’t something we noticed at home and it wasn’t a part of our school curriculum back then.
Across the world, a movement was being formed by Bill Mollison, a lecturer in environmental psychology, and a student at the Tasmanian College of Advanced Education, David Holmgren. They developed an earth science they referred to as permaculture with an aim for global outreach. Mollison had decided that they needed to “build an army of permaculture field workers to go out and teach the ideas of sustainable food production.” By 1978, they had written “Permaculture One: a Perennial Agriculture for Human Settlements.” Permaculture spread in its influence and as Holmgren noted, became “a grassroots international movement of practitioners, designers, and organizations.” And the idea took root in Australia and began to spread…
Meanwhile, in Florida
I first moved to Florida in 1986 and received my scuba diver’s certification within a few years of arriving. Over the next decade, the visible decline in the reefs was frightening. And the sleepy state of my childhood vacations faded before my eyes. Swamps became golf courses and theme parks. The first Disney park opened in 1971. National wetlands protection wasn’t set into motion until 1977.
During that time, Florida’s population was growing in leaps and bounds—32.7 percent in that decade. In the following decade, it would grow another 23.5 percent. Over various booms and busts in recent decades, the state’s population has continued to grow at roughly the same rate, transforming a largely rural landscape into an urban one. The coastlines are now dominated by high-rise condos and hotels. Currently, Florida is the third most populated state, nearing 22 million residents. In my lifetime, the US population has grown from roughly 203 million to 333 million—and the world population from 3.4 to 7.9 billion Yes, the world population has more than doubled in my 55 years of life! (So much for zero population growth!)
A Gradual Path to Awareness
As a young adult, I’d always been good about recycling. I’d faithfully sort my paper, plastic, cans, and glass waste and put them in bins — feeling pretty good about “doing my part.” It was just one of the things I did without question at first and I didn’t feel the need to research what really happened to all the stuff I recycled or threw “away.” (There is no away!)
I would discover that about one-fourth of the recycling we collect is rejected because of “contamination.” Compostable items that are put in with garbage contaminate other waste. Most of our waste isn’t even sent to recycling centers. Things like wax-coated paper and shredded paper can’t be recycled. (Shredded paper can’t be put through sorting machines without wreaking havoc on them.) Recycling alone isn’t the answer. We need to change how we live and consume.
Closing the Loop
In my permaculture coursework, my eyes were opened in a lot of ways. One lesson explained the idea of “closing the loop.” We have to eliminate waste by repurposing it and keeping it in the cycle of what we consume. We have a lot more control over this process than I was ever willing to admit in the past. The idea of reusing any waste we create is entirely doable. Growing our own food and composting any resulting waste closes the loop. Buying what we can’t grow from local farmer’s markets is another way. Saving our seeds also keeps resources within the cycle.
Zero Waste is an idea that needs to take hold because that is the only practical way of closing the loop. Recycling, while somewhat practical for the interim, is flawed in the long run. One of Zero Waste’s charter principles is to redesign products and methods of production to eliminate waste by mimicking natural processes and closed loops — also a permaculture design principle.
It finally dawned on me that recycling was never going to be enough. Estimates vary, but a frightening amount of plastic doesn’t get recycled, and even if it does, there are only so many times it can be reused. In our county, glass is no longer accepted for recycling with the claim that their vendor is unable to resell the glass it recycles. Curbside recycling isn’t offered in our neighborhood. We have to package it up and drive it over to a processing site. There must be a better way.
Being Less Trashy
One of the best ways is to monitor our consumption. We need to buy quality essentials and take good care of them. That, at least, is one area I’ve managed to be pretty good about. I take great care of my things and make them last as long as possible. If at some point, they are no longer useful to me, I donate them — from furniture to clothing, there are always people who are grateful to put them to use.
I have purchased the products needed to enable a zero-waste lifestyle and they should probably last the rest of my life: glass storage containers, stainless steel straws, fabric shopping bags, beeswax food wraps, silicone sandwich bags, net produce bags … I have it all, and it actually feels good to use them.
When there are necessary items in our life that can’t biodegrade, we should do our best to creatively repurpose them. Can we improve? Definitely and that is an ongoing goal, but we’re headed in the right direction and I do my best not to buy anything I can’t compost, reuse or recycle.
Also important is shopping wisely. Unfortunately, buying local isn’t always the best option — especially in small rural towns that don’t offer a lot of eco-friendly options. There are quite a few online companies that offer low or zero waste products though (just google it). I will do a future post on companies I have tried.
Smart Shopping
Permaculture has changed the way I shop. I look for the lowest profile packaging possible (preferably none, or at least compostable). As our shopping patterns change, companies will take notice and will step up their game to compete with companies that provide popular zero-waste products.
In our home, we have nearly eliminated paper towels. This creates more laundry, but now I’m buying eco-friendly laundry sheets that come in a paper package and using wool dryer balls. I only buy toilet tissue made from recycled paper or sustainable bamboo. We buy shampoo in bars. I clean with vinegar and/or baking soda. Most of the cardboard and brown paper packaging that arrive with deliveries are used as sheet mulch in the lawn, the rest are reused for outgoing shipping.
I never buy fertilizer anymore. Never! I’m embarrassed to remember that I ever did. I grow my fertilizer. I create my own compost. Permaculture is based on the idea that we should work with nature, not against it. Healthy ecosystems survive on their own and that is what we need to try to recreate.
The smartest of shopping is to buy used items. And even better than buying is to share and borrow items like tools or appliances that we don’t use often.
Rethinking Transportation
When our son went off to college, I gave him my car. I haven’t missed it — or replaced it. My husband and I are employed at home, so there isn’t a need. That car is almost twenty years old now, but still runs well and my son is still driving it. Transportation is probably the next major way we can make a noticeable difference. The true permaculture way would be to use bikes instead, and if our rural neighborhood wasn’t on a fast two-lane highway with no shoulder or bike trails, that might be a more workable solution. What I can do though is try to convince our town to put more bike trails in. Being vocal about positive changes and a willingness to be a part of the answer can make a difference.
Creating Change
Most of these changes happened over a few months, and I have to say that they were relatively simple. I haven’t missed any of the old products and ways. There was an initial investment, but I’m confident that I’ll save money in the long run. Some of the zero-waste food products are more expensive, but the benefits far outweigh any increase in cost (and will hopefully motivate us to make or grow more of our own food).
Something inside me longs to nurture as much land as possible and to encourage regenerative living wherever and whenever I can. While there might not be much that I can do to change the world as a whole, I can at least correct what I do. If we each did that, it would be enough. And if I can inspire a few others to do the same by sharing my experiences, I will share as often as possible!
These easy ideas are just the tip of the iceberg and as my journey continues, I will share the ideas I implement. If you have any additional thoughts, please reach out in the comments section below…
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