The Earth Activist Training

The first day began as all fourteen days at The Earth Activist Training (EAT) would begin: with ritual. We are instructed to close our eyes and reflect for a moment on why we came to this intensive permaculture, activism, and community building training. At the beginning of any event, we are reminded, always make your intention clear. What do we intend to create together? Why have we come? Someone begins, stating their affirmative purpose, and joining hands with their neighbor. We continue clockwise around the circle in such a fashion, twenty eight people linking hands and speaking our truth as a magical act to bring each member into the circle and create a sacred energetic container. The circle is cast.

All ritual begins with casting a circle--symbolically establishing the energetic space to do work together as a group. Casting a circle for the entire training allowed us to all arrive in the same location, leave behind the burdens of wherever we had come from, and recognize the common work we had come here to do.

After arriving into ritual space together, we begin with observation. Observation was to become the single most overarching theme through all the work we did in the coming weeks. In this westernized culture we often over focus on our visual sense, sometimes to the detriment of our other input systems: touch, hearing, smell, extra-sensory energy. We close our eyes. We become completely immersed in awareness of our surroundings; our chattering brains quiet; we become fully present, observing the moment.

At least, this is the theory. I find this hard. Mostly, I want to criticise my way of observing, feeling that I should be more skilled at intuitive perception and quieting the constant yabber of internal dialogue. I am already familiar with this process and the inevitable criticisms that arise. Yet, I sink into it again. It is the half-dream, half-quiet realm of sensing.

Before I came to this training I had undertaken this goal: to calm the habit of thought-addiction and reconnect with nature through my awareness, as a member of it, not an outsider. I am glad that we start with observation; as a skill it ties together community building, awareness and sensitivity to nature, and designing of sustainable systems for human living. It is the foundation of my education strategy and future goal of living in land-based intentional community. Who knew that such a task would provide me with a continuing sense of failure and challenge! Every time a thought jerks my mind away from my senses I despise the task of making the thought retreat--I want to indulge it, rest in the comfort of busy-to-do-list-fantasy distraction.

Observation informs all choices related to designing permaculture systems, both in physical and social structures. Throughout the training we talk at length about how to assess a physical site for its attributes, based on what we notice and interpret about its preexisting state. For example, let's take water systems--before one would install a rainwater catchment, one needs detailed information gained through observation about the quantity and timing of the rains, how much water is needed for use versus how much is expected in precipitation. If one went and built a huge system without taking these simple facts into account, one could end up with a design inappropriate for ones needs, such as too much storage space, etc.

Permaculture is the art of systems thinking applied to design. It is the active participation with your environment to create self-sustaining relationships of abundance and regeneration. It is the act of taking information gathered from our own thoughtful, protracted observation and traditional knowledge of the land and applying it to modern westernized society. Using these skills, our relationship with nature can change from one of abuse to one of cooperation and positive participation. The word comes from "permanent culture" or "permanent agriculture," and was coined by the originator Bill Mollison in 1970. In this sense, "permanent" does not mean stagnant and rigid, but means consistency within adaptation. Three main ethics form the foundation of permaculture: 1) Care of the Earth; 2) Care of the People; and 3) Fair Share (surplus is returned to the whole system, not horded by individuals).

The final group project earned us our permaculture design certificate. We worked in small groups to design a holistic permaculture plan for one of several options presented to us by the instructors. I chose to work on a design for Starhawk's property, for its similarity to my goals of owning and designing land in the future. It is about 40 acres large, situated on sunny hillsides of the Cazadero hills in Sonoma County, CA. There were several structures in place, some marginally functional gardens with chickens and some permaculture aspects, forests, powered off the grid from a micro-hydro system, a misplaced wind turbine, and solar panels. We were to design the fantastical image of Star's Ranch with no holds barred on our imaginations or the practical constraints of reality such as funding or labor. We were to dream big and place our designers mind on full blast.

Our ultimate product was a redesign of the gardens and buildings in what is referred to in permaculture as "zone 1", the location immediately surrounding your most-used dwellings, the place where all your immediate needs are provided for. During the process of assessing the site, brainstorming, and designing gardens, fruit orchards, social community building techniques, water catchment for rainwater and greywater, I realized a key piece about myself as a designer. Before presenting the project, I was convinced I had vast shortcomings as a permaculturist. But our presentation to the group was received with so much appreciation, including from the owner of the land, that I began to wonder if these shortcomings were actually attributes of my personality I could just accept and not judge myself for, and might in fact be assets.

Of all the project groups that have created a design for Star's land every year of this course, our project was appreciated as being the most practically useful. This highlights what I was most worried about in our project and in my own style--that we focused on the reasonable, the small changes, the ways to work with forms already present on the land. I was worried there wasn't enough grand alterations; we hadn't visioned the ultimate design that would be the utopia of permaculture sites for all generations in Sonoma County. I learned that small changes are good. My tendency to assert minimal change on my situation, be it social or physical, is not necessarily a shortcoming from lack of confidence, but an asset that allows me to see a situation/place with acceptance and humility. I think change is much more effective on small scales over long term. This idea is stated in the several permaculture principals, which are 27 ways to think about designing systems. The principal "least change for the greatest effect" says that the best change is the least change. It says we should avoid drastic alterations in present systems because then you are less likely to alter it beyond repair if you make a mistake, and you are working in harmony with the energy flows which already are in place.

I am inspired to bring back the knowledge I learned at EAT in many ways. For my dumpy well-loved rental house, I imagine a new garden in front where the land is degraded and compacted from being used as a parking spot. Special plants and fungus will bioremediate the toxins add nutrients, sheet mulching will kill weeds and build the soil without tilling the ground. I imagine a worm composing bin and a rudimentary greywater system in the bathroom. Our veggie garden in back could be designed to support a diverse community of insects and wildlife as well as producing food by using functional plant guilds: groups of companion plantings that combine the attributes of micronutrient uptake from the soil, beneficial insect attraction, and nitrogen fixation.

For my community, I see myself taking the information and skills from EAT and reaffirming my commitment to leading a big life as a leader in nature awareness and sustainability. I need constant reminding of this commitment because of my tendency to sink into feeling overwhelm or powerlessness. This training was another chance to remember my true self as powerful and equal in creating the world I want, surrounded by a loving community of people and nature. I felt like I could create anything I set my mind to. I have plans to teach a class this spring in developing stronger relationships with nature using the tools of botany, wildcrafting, and nature awareness. This summer I plan to facilitate a collective in organic farming, small business management, communal living, and ecological restoration. These are not roles I take on with ease; I take them on with a sense of purpose, a choice for struggling against messages that say I cannot make the world I want. I do not choose this path to feel "good." I choose to fight for myself and the world and my community because it feels right, and it needs to be done.

The future is a world waiting to be created by our intentions.