eco-friendly

Building a tiny house for someone else

Ahoy! Long time between posts and apologies for the radio-silence.

Shortly before completing the majority of our P2 guesthouse space and having guests stay in succession, I was contacted by the daughter of an elderly friend of Heidi’s who was a single woman looking to both downsize and give herself affordable living autonomy in this crazy real estate market (hell). I offered my services with the caveat that my skillset was limited to semi-trailer tiny homes and that was something she quickly agreed to. We were able to show her a couple of examples of semi-trailer tiny homes and it is easy to see the virtues.

Fast forward 11 months, and I am reminded at how much work is involved in building a house (especially when you do it all yourself!) and how little I have been updating my progress (hence the lack of posts on this blog!). It was somewhat liberating not to film everything I was doing this time around like when I built our place, but I’m sure I’ll miss seeing the evolution of all the work once it is done. I’ve included a little gallery of pics here to give you an idea and I’ll do a proper “tour” once it is done. Here is a walk-through I did about 75% of the way through:

Here’s a few photos from early on til now!

Examining our DIY composting toilet system

Given that toilets and sewage are something that most people – including myself for most of my life – never really think too much about, when I express just how much I am thankful for the idea of composting toilets, it probably sounds like a strange exaggeration. Composting toilets are not only environmentally sound, clean and functionally simple but they are also the most natural way (figuratively and metaphorically) to deal with human waste. Ours is particularly simple and that is its beauty, along with being inexpensive. Let’s have a look at what sorts of benefits that this type of system offers over flushing toilets and where they work best, how ours works and where we might make improvements.

Benefits and Uses

First up, let’s look at 10 reasons why composting toilets can be seen as superior to flushing toilets (especially in the right context).

Water Conservation:

Composting toilets do not require water for flushing, contributing to significant water conservation. For example, even with water-saving loos in Australia (3L per half flush, 6L per full) meaning a family of 4 flushes around 28,000 litres of drinking-quality water down the bog every year. In Adelaide, this constitutes 18% (32 GL) of all mains water use from the 200 gigalitres we use every year. It takes energy and resources to purify water, a lot of energy to operate desalination plants and in a state where rainfall is due to decline by as much as 30% by 2050, we can’t afford to minimise the importance of fresh water.

Environmental Impact:

Flushing toilets contribute to water pollution through the release of sewage into water bodies. Composting toilets eliminate this form of pollution, as they do not produce liquid waste that requires treatment. Best of all, “humanure” is natural and, when composted and dealt with appropriately, can be used as a positive way to restore soil health.

Significant Reduction in Energy Use:

Traditional sewage treatment and water supply systems involve significant energy consumption. Composting toilets effectively take away all the energy consumption from the system other than some manual labour in managing your compost.

Off-Grid Capability:

Composting toilets are perfectly suited for off-grid living or in remote areas where access to water and sewage infrastructure is limited. They provide a sanitation solution without the need for extensive plumbing. Once you remove “black water” from your waste system (in most areas, only toilet water is black water now), it is easy to deal with grey water with zero sewage involvement.

Nutrient-Rich Compost:

Not only environmentally friendly from a water or energy perspective, compost produced by composting toilets can be a valuable resource for gardening and agriculture. It is rich in nutrients and can be safely used as fertilizer after proper composting.

Odour Control:

A common concern is that composting toilets smell worse than flushing loos. A properly set up composting one is designed to minimize or eliminate odours through proper ventilation and microbial decomposition. A dry bucket loo will have no odour (other than smells created “in-progress” which is the same as any toilet! 😛 Advanced models often have features like fans and venting systems to keep the compost dry as moisture is usually the only contributor to smell.

Reduced Infrastructure Costs:

Installing traditional sewage systems and water supply infrastructure can be expensive. A composting toilet can be as simple as a bucket under a toilet seat with organic covering material up to a traditional-looking toilet with a chambered unit under the house. Not having a “wet” system means plumbing can be DIY and is very simple to maintain or repair.

Resilience to Water Shortages:

During droughts or water shortages, traditional flushing toilets may face restrictions or challenges. Some eco-minded folks will put a brick in the toilet tank to conserve water or other modifications, but the fact is, toilets need water to work effectively without blocking up. Composting toilets provide a reliable and independent sanitation solution that doesn’t rely on water availability.

Reduced Strain on Sewage Systems:

In areas with overburdened sewage systems, composting toilets can help reduce the strain on infrastructure, preventing issues like sewage overflows and backups. On a localised level, a “blocked toilet” is a thing of the past with a composting toilet, rendering a toilet plunger permanently unneeded! Hooray! It doesn’t matter what you throw down the loo as long as it can naturally break down. In one house we lived in, our old pipes would be routinely infiltrated by tree roots which resulted in horror scenes of raw sewage burbling up through a backyard grate. Yuck-o.

Adaptability to Various Climates:

Composting toilets can function effectively in a range of climates, including cold and remote areas, where traditional sewage systems may be challenging to implement. Frozen pipes aren’t going to affect this system, and hot environments only help get the composting process moving along faster.

Bonus point: Silence. Rather than worrying about plopping or tinkling sounds in a wet loo, nor the sound of a toilet flushing (eg. in the quiet of the night or numerous times with guests over), there is complete silence. Not something to be underestimated in its importance.

Based on many of these reasons, I personally think that we should see a whole lot more people giving composting toilets a try, however the reality is of course much different. Local regulations, and the specific needs of a given community will dictate what is “allowed” or not. Sadly, despite fresh water being a disappearing resource, city councils will probably never adopt any other system other than the one they have as they see human waste as a public health (even though flushing toilets are still reliant on people using and maintaining them properly). However, with more people going off-grid and expanding into semi-rural areas, this is entirely a possible solution.

composting toilet, off-grid, custom design, tiny house on wheels

Our composting toilet experience

We came into the composting toilet idea early on after seeing how effective they were and how many people used them during our Intentional Community trips. There were indoor and outdoor loos-with-views, fancy loos, simple loos. The one thing in common was that they were all inoffensive to use, clean and required no special plumbing. Including our time building our tiny house, we haven’t had a flushing toilet since early 2019. Largely we have not missed it at all:

Pros: the environmental considerations listed above, easy to keep clean, quiet, no unclogging or flooding concerns, no mechanical issues like tank stuck filling.

Cons: requires manually levelling the accumulated pile occasionally for better coverage, can get smelly if people wee in it (see challenges below), no flushing water should things stick to the bowl, every 6 weeks or so the bin needs swapping and old compost needs burying.

composting toilet, Eco-loo, tiny house, off-grid

Our set-up is based on ones that we saw for sale by companies like Green-Loo who have large multi-chamber polycarbonate units that can fit under tiny houses and will allow the composting activity to occur within. Some units like the Separett include unique urine diverters but you still need to empty compartments plus it requires you to always sit down and I just don’t personally like the way they look. The Green-Loo system is well thought out but much more expensive than we wanted to spend, but we modelled ours off that idea.

The perk to building in a semi-trailer body is the height from the ground. Having just over a meter of clearance means that we could slip a standard wheelie bin underneath which would provide us with a waste receptacle at a fraction of the price of a dedicated system ($75 per bin from Paramount Browns, delivered). We found some handy plans of how to fit-out a bin for this purpose and then just modified it to work with the Green-Loo pedestal toilet, which was our biggest expense ($450). A good-quality fan which sits in-line in the large exhaust pipe out of the bin ran us about $100 too.

the outdoor set-up of the composting wheelie bin and exhaust system

The design is based around the idea that there is a sub-compartment separated by a mesh barrier that allows liquids to accumulate in the lower reservoir and then a hose from that lower area allows fluids to leak into a run-off pit as needed. The mesh barrier keeps the solids compost up top and then near the very top of the bin is a hole for the vent pipe and fan. The wheelie bin has its attached lid hanging off the back, unused until it gets swapped for a fresh bin, then closed up and sat in the sun to ferment. A standalone lid with a hole cut in the middle hugs the main toilet shaft from the house above and sits snug over the bin to keep it sealed up. In the house, the toilet pedestal looks like any other toilet and the only giveaway is no tank or flusher. To further conceal the nature of the system, we have a couple of storage boxes built into the wall as drawers which hold the bulking material that you use to cover your business in the toilet after you’ve gone. Added innovation: the bulking material boxes are in a two-way hole that leads out to the back of the trailer where two large bulk storage bins reside in the wall of the trailer. They can each hold about 200 litres of material so it allows us to easily top up the internal bins without having to drag anything in through the house.

Watch the video at the bottom of this page of how I put it all together and what the system looks like.

The result: a largely fuss-free toilet experience but not without both some caveats and planned changes. Initially, we used the toilet for all activities with the intent to allow liquids to drain out, keeping things dry enough not to smell with the fan doing its job to dry out what was there and draw away remaining smells. In the winter and when the bin is less than half full, this worked well enough. If we didn’t use enough covering material (or the right covering material…it took us time to get that right) then it might smell for a short time after a wee until it got soaked up into the pile (we tend to use bulk garden compost mixed with soil from our yard for solids and pet bedding sawdust for liquids). With two of us working from home, it was just too much fluid in the system so I just went outside for my contribution (which wasn’t terrible: there is no one around where we are and it gets me outside). Come summer, the toilet smelled a bit more which led to Heidi avoiding weeing into the toilet at all and using a bucket and then dumping outside. Obviously this is not rendering our toilet system too useful if we are only using it each once a day!

With the decision to keep our other semi-trailer (P2) and fit it out as a guest space, we decided it made sense to add a toilet there too. On a couple of our intentional community visits we came across duel toilet set-ups and thought this made sense in P2. This way we can make the toilet in our main house (P1) a dedicated wee-only toilet which will allow it to be used many times a day, with a dedicated wee-only toilet right next to a dedicated poo-only toilet in P2. The only downsides to this idea are that it means someone must use the poo-only (which is really just like the one in P1 now, so it can take fluids too if someone is unsure of what might come out 😱) for poo, and never never do a number 2 in the wee toilet which will be fitted with essentially a funnel connected to a hose! Also, my handy-dandy bulking material bins will be rendered useless in P1 (although, I’ll set it up so that the original set-up can be easily implemented if that suits us in some future scenario).

Overall, we really like the composting toilet set-up. We have a special microbacterial spray that speeds up the process of composting in the toilet and doubles as a cleaner so keeping the bowl clean is easy. It looks good, there is no splashing or flushing or brushing required. There is no plumbing, septic, sewage costs and most importantly, water wastage. It does require a slightly more hands-on approach to swap out bins and bury compost, plus manage bulking/covering material.

If you want to visually check out the process and the result, have a watch of the video below. Let me know if you have any questions or comments in the section below!

A new video channel and lifestyle!

For the past 4 years (2019-2023), tiny house life has been front and centre in our world. Before that, we were on a path to something tiny house and minimalism related for several years. It is exciting now that it has fused into a vision where we are living in the house and want to share more of this life and opportunity with others. Enter: Heidi and Mike’s Big Tiny Adventure on YouTube!

Up until recently, the ongoing videos I did for my tiny house building series entitled the.semitrailer.project were an amalgamation of clips that I shot while simultaneously putting together the house (a journey, I might add, that was the first of its kind for me, so definitely busy learning on the job!). These videos gradually increased in production quality as I saw that the material resonated with viewers, plus my background in video production enticed me to be more creative. That, and I’m a goof with a weird sense of humour, something I hope gives folks a chuckle while they watch. 😛 These videos all just resided on my video production YouTube channel the Cunning Crow (my production company is Cunning Crow Productions).

With the desire to expand this video series and giving them a standalone place to live, we wanted to use the opportunity to showcase all things related to tiny houses in our locality (South Australia, to start) with particular focus on: other semi-trailer conversations, things we learned on our journey, the lifestyle perks and challenges to tiny house living, helpful tips to people starting on this journey and minimalism conversations through interviews and personal perspectives. Being well-connected to our Adelaide tiny house community, we want to talk about what is going on here, particularly with the housing crisis, changes to council legislation to do with THOWs (tiny houses on wheels) and just the exciting things going on in this area which aren’t often focused on in other tiny house pages or channels.

Heidi has been keen to dive deeper into this way of life as she has a lot to say with regards to ethical, sustainable and minimal living. We hope to see her periodically on the channel or when she has the chance to blog her thoughts here. Given my daily involvement with the build and being relaxed on camera meant that it has been me on video more often than not. It will great to get Heidi’s voice into the mix as she has been an equal part to this journey to date!

The new channel is live and we’d love for you to follow or subscribe to our journey. The hope is to truly provide a useful resource to our audience for a variety of reasons, whether you are just tiny house curious, thinking about or starting your own journey, wanting to do your part to help progress the tiny house movement or just looking for something authentic and different to watch. Whatever it is, welcome on board via this site or through our video channel ☺️🏠💚

Dharmananda in photos

If you haven’t read about our journey visiting Australian intentional communities, check out either my 2015 or 2016 introductions. This gallery features some of the photos from our visit to Dharmananda in northeastern New South Wales, a lush rainforested region of incredible beauty.

The community house just after sunrise

The bunkhouse – our home during our stay

Leigh preparing a field with his trusty tractor

Creative owner-built homes

The cows doing their morning routine

Lots of healthy grazing country for these cows

The community kitchen

You can’t get fresher bananas than this!

Maggie is making cheese

Stunning light through the meditation forest

The community kitchen in the forest

Thank you guerrilla artists who decorate the brutal potholes around here!!

The Channon’s famous monthly markets

Musicians at The Channon market

Folks selling stuff at The Channon market

Amazing plants at Dharmananda

Wildlife taking refuge in this healthy wilderness

Dharmananda: on the farm with the Dharm.

~ DESTINATION FOUR: THE CHANNON, NSW ~

Cows, creepy-crawlies and communal living.

One of the most common remarks that I have heard by folks who lived at or know the Dharmananda community is that they think it’s one of the best they have come across. For two weeks Heidi and I incorporated ourselves into this community discovering that the quality relationships, good ethos, strong values and beautiful location does indeed support the high esteem that this community is held in.

Interestingly (well, to me anyway), this trip has consisted of us randomly picking communities that we know nothing about but sound good to visit and then turn out to be historically significant in one way or another. It turns out that communal living on the Dharmananda property actually preceded the 1973 Aquarius festival. Aquarius is largely considered to be the birthplace of most of the communities in Australia that have existed for over 40 years. In this region (and arguably Australia), Dharmananda and Tuntable Falls (our second choice while researching) are considered the best known and well-respected communities, with Bodhi Farm right up there (a place we might visit as we head south in July). It was a privilege therefore to be opportunity to spend time with this group and find out what makes it so unique.

Right off the bat, our day-one first impressions were a mingling of the people, the place, the creatures and the dairy. The people were outgoing and friendly though you could sense that WWOOFers and other visitors were a common occurrence seeing as how well-oiled their guest machine worked! My first thoughts of the place itself are rich with adjectives: densely lush tropical forest; creative open-plan homes made from recycled materials; a homey and cozy community house; buggy, rough, open, remote, quiet. The creatures were quite visible from the outset with the web of a hand-sized spider positioned strategically by the door to the community kitchen, a large huntsman welcoming us to our room, skittling cockroaches in and on everything when we opened the door, and a carpet python living in the rafters above our bed. Welcome to the jungle! Lastly, as we were welcomed by mooing bovines, the fact that this is a working dairy farm wasn’t lost on us during planning (an interesting challenge given our leaning towards veganism), but we decided to look past that initially and focus on the people and relationships before delving more deeply into the state of the cows.

What makes Dharmananda such an intriguing place? Well, a few things: the members of the community are an eclectic mix of personalities, many of whom (particularly the founders and those born into the community) have been here more than half their lives. They care for the land and for each other, their bond with both ensuring ongoing health and unity. There is a good blend of creative, practical and relational skills with everyone participating in their roles with dutiful acceptance. There’s also not too few or too many folks here: at around 20-25 at any given time, a good balance has been struck between in-your-face-all-the-time and I-never-see-some-people. There is a shared meal available nearly every night at the community house with most people taking part at some point through the week. Besides the humans, an abundance of wildlife and wildness in general is both a virtue and something that you need to get accustomed to, but for the most part it is stunningly beautiful, tranquil and a wondrous thing to be able to be so close to nature. Credit for this forested and lush environment goes to the founders who rehabilitated barren animal-grazing land and made it what it now is. You’d scarcely believe that it was largely devoid of trees 45 years ago given the current diversity of native flora (and, increasingly, eradication of non-native weeds) plus rich habit for birds and creatures.

The people and the place. That’s pretty much Dharmananda’s magic ingredients in a nutshell!

For Heidi and I, coming in again under the label of WWOOFers, the deceptively simple idea of “people and place” needed to be experienced first-hand, and it reminds me again of the importance of staying in a community for a little while. As we pulled out weeds for folks like Sho – a Japanese chap who came 15 years ago as a WWOOFer and never left – or Leigh – a fixture since 1979 who is the King of the Cows – we gleaned a great deal of interesting info about the community at different stages. Maggie – a stylish, humorous and feisty 84 year old member – makes cheese during the week and has regaled us with stories of the farm. Carol (pictured) – one of the original founders and a sassy tell-it-like-it-is woman with a beautiful house on the hill – was quite candid about Dharm’s history and her thoughts on her ageing community family. We were also lucky enough to experience the group in social activities together, like Saturday dinner where everyone is looser with wine, laughs and board games, or at their monthly meeting where we got to experience their decision-making and democratic behavior with one another at work.

You might note that above I said pulling “weeds” and not “weed”. Dope. Pot. Ganja. Marijuana: no matter what you call it, it’s not available here. Dharmananda has had a strict “No Dope, No Dole” policy for most of its existence which is probably why it is a tight and focused community still after 44 years. Where other communities have to worry about raids and secretive activity surrounding what their community gets up to, Dharmananda seems pretty clean. According to neighbour Chris, that’s not to say that they haven’t been lumped together with the other communities in the eyes of the police. Chris regaled us with stories of actual gunships that have landed on the property from time-to-time as the Australian Federal Police (AFP) periodically perform drug raids. Apparently the AFP refer to Dharmananda as “Sector 4” while Chris’ place has defiantly actually used their Sector 5 moniker as their official community name – in true rebellious activist spirit. Those early days and the busts of the 80’s and 90’s must have been some wild times in this region!

Leigh, one of the early members, on his trusty tractor

From a farming point of view, the heart of Dharm is the dairy operation. A number of interesting things transpired to do with this, as I went in as a staunch believer that dairy is part of a cruel industry, somewhat unhealthy and ultimately an unnecessary activity. However, heading onto the farm, I wasn’t wearing my Vegan hat and didn’t feel trepidation about the forthcoming experience, likely due to the fact that I really had no basis for comparison having never spent any time on a dairy farm. On about day 3 at Dharm, however, male calves were just being separated from their mother (and due for slaughter; a cruel by-product of the dairy industry) and had started a two day-long crying out to each other, day and night, which was difficult to experience. That evening, at a dinner table filled with community members who spend hours a week processing the dairy and living off of it, we had a fairly lively conversation about the ethics behind it and Leigh surprised me with taking a firm but compassionate stand about how he struggles with parts of the dairy routine, like separating the calves. A sly reminder to the other members at the table, he commented that “this is all done so we can eat our cheese and butter.” This impressive show of humanity was coming from the man who has carefully tended to the cows 7 days a week for over 30 years. I would learn over the rest of our stay that he treats those cows with diligent care, talking to them and calling them by name. Watching the cows follow him around made me realise that there was a lot of heart invested into what he does. It’s one of those strange hypocrisies that humans are often involved with, and despite my inherent objection to the whole idea of dairy, I could see genuine caring and good intentions behind the way the cows were treated here which says a lot about the type of people who live at Dharmananda. Due to the lengths that they go to to care for the animals, who in turn fertilise the land for their veggies, I could no more condemn them than I could myself for driving a petrol-powered car and contributing to polluting the Earth. It was a healthy thing to experience; I could more clearly separate intensified factory dairy farming done by faceless corporations from this sort of small, bio-dynamic and holistic approach. My feelings about consuming dairy remain the same, but I am not lumping everyone together into one box.

The farming part of life inspired some interesting conversations with community members. From at least 4 separate conversations, I was told that Dharmananda wouldn’t have been someone’s first choice anymore if they knew how centred around the dairy, labour and food production that it is. In fact, each of these people mentioned neighbouring Bodhi Farm as their preferred choice. In their next breath though, all those individuals also said that it was the people that kept them here and they were all family so they endured. It did cause Heidi and I to perk up our ears with interest about Bodhi Farm, however. We are considering visiting there on this trip too; from comments we heard, it sounds like the virtues are that that Bodhi is in the quiet forest, more aesthetically-oriented, more focused on music and creativity and less on farming and labour, less about vehicles and more practising/observing Buddhism. Certainly some of those considerations would likely be shared by Heidi and I as we are interested in arts-centred communities with a spiritual core. It therefore makes Dharmananda even more of an enigma; people are compelled to come and stay despite the lifestyle not necessarily being their first choice. It says something about the vibe or people or location or something deeper….but I also sense that change is in the air. The big question will be: once this particular “constellation” of folks (as Carol calls the founders and current group) moves on, will the next generation maintain this type of farm-centric existence?

Overall, our experience of life in the community was very positive. As WWOOFers, we generally worked 4 hours a day from 9am til about 1 or 2pm with generous morning tea and lunch breaks, after which we could do as we pleased. We probably had our fill of weeding tasks as about 75% of what everyone wanted us to do involved that, but we did learn a lot about native vs non-native plants, prepared the food beds for Dharm’s next crops, participated in the regeneration of the bushland and helped improve the community in general. The downside might be that we also got bitten by ticks, jumping ants and leeches in the process, but we worked alongside a 2 metre carpet python one day, which was pretty exciting. We got to spend most of our days outdoors, chatting with community folks, basking in the unusually warm late-autumn sunshine and soaking up the clean air in the beautiful forest.

One of our exciting WWOOFing assignments was to go up to the meditation centre that was co-built and co-owned by Dharm and Bodhi, on the top of their hilly property in the untouched, ancient rainforest. This retreat was graced by hundreds-of-years-old trees, with little “cootees” (or sleeping/mediation huts) dotted around, a communal kitchen and a large centre for group mediation. I thought the farm was pretty peaceful, but up here there were no human-created sounds except the whip birds and wildlife. Even the sun and wind could barely get through the dense trees. We were very thankful for the invite to come up with Jen and her partner and stay over night as this place clearly illustrated to me one of the reasons that people are so passionate to save these forests and to live in this soul-filling region. (I’ve posted a bunch more photos from this beautiful spot plus the rest of Dharmananda in my photo gallery)

We rounded out our visit with trips to the local village, The Channon, which had a throw-back feel to it, plus we saw their famous monthly market which was all local arts and crafts complete with all the old hippies and other locals walking around there. A must-see on our list was also famous Nimbin and it’s healthy hemp and pot industry, but it had a bit of a seedier feel to it than I expected. Still, it was a very interesting spot and worth a visit. The countryside in the region is impossibly pretty; truly Australia’s Tuscany in my opinion. Without a doubt, we need to explore the area more as it is thick with intentional communities and the exciting community-at-large makes it one of the most interesting parts of the country for like-minded folks, I imagine. Dharmananda was a great introduction to the area and I hope we can experience more of it and learn from the pioneers of communal living in Australia!

There was so many amazing photo opportunities in this region and on the property that I made a separate gallery to show off more pics than what fits in this blog post.

As always, please check out Heidi’s site about this visit as well for her unique insights on our journey.

I am allowed to live like this

I am sitting on a daybed on the balcony of our hand-built rustic accommodation, overlooking a lush scene of trees in all directions, a simple track and nearby hill that makes up the rainforest valley we’re in. However, it is not the visual setting I’m focused on but rather the melodic sounds of the rainforest – those wet, rich, echoing tones of exotic-sounding birds – chirping, whoooiiip!-ing and trilling – with a distant burble of water from a healthy creek. Down the rambling road, I see two people in aprons carrying big baskets filled with fresh produce walking back from a series of bountyful gardens just beyond. Not only is it a signal to me to take a moment and absorb the healthiness, beauty and tranquility of this location but it is a reminder that this is the norm for this intentional community, and not just some temporary getaway for distant travellers like ourselves.

As a born and bred city-goer, I have in the past convinced myself that I was more “at home” in the city, with the so-called conveniences, the comforting ever-present drone of traffic in the distance, and the neatly partitioned off spaces delineating all facets of life so we know who’s-is-whose and culturally how to behave. These travels to intentional communities are, for now, a temporary peek into the way others live, but ultimately I expect to return to a city, even if there are elements that grate against my being. It is simply what I am used to. These communities are just foreign places where a different breed of people live, and I think of the inhabitants as “the lucky few” who are able to get away with this lifestyle while the rest of us muck about in uncreative suburbs and traffic congestion.

However, a tipping point is nearing, I believe. I am also beginning to feel like I speak into the same line of thinking and ideals that the people that we meet in these communities now. I need to stop portraying myself as a wishful dreamer and more of a participant-in-training, transitioning to this new life…not if, but when. When I see so many people with multiple practical skills – some of which may seem to have died out or have become unnecessary in modern life – I feel unqualified to be considering such a move. I don’t know how to grow food very well. What can I build besides furniture out of pallet wood? Could I hook up an off-grid solar system myself? How do I identify all the plants or snakes that could kill me? How do you know when you have to appease local councils with something on your land? Doubts creep in.

Sure, I can go on the internet and learn some of these things over time, but the virtue of a community is that all the many skills needed are often supplied by your community members, or you muddle through as a group and figure things out together. Many of the people we encounter seem like ordinary folks (many who have come from cities too) who have had lots of time to try things out and collectively learn these interesting skills. Plus the welcoming, non-judgemental attitude of members helps soften the worrying like the “will they accept a useless sod like me” thoughts that crop up too. Given that most communities we’ve experienced have a trial period (essential for both parties to feel if they will fit), if you simply come with a positive, respectful and can-do attitude, my guess is that most communities will love to have you in due time.

I can’t speak for what other people’s barriers would be to potentially living in a way that allows you to feel liberated from the constraints and pressures of mainstream society, but mine are: acceptance, expectations and relationships. Returning back to my view of the rainforest and the birds, another barrier might be “am I allowed to live in such a wonderful place? Isn’t life supposed to be busy and stressful with hard edges, like in a city?”. It’s that idea that I am not deserving of this. That voice in the back of your head that suggests that it is “time to grow up and be an adult” which I interpret to mean: “hippies, activists and lay-abouts live in rainforests and aren’t productive members of society.” I am finally starting to dispense of this myth. Sure, we need doctors, engineers and lawyers (wait, do we really need lawyers?) in our world, but more importantly, we need folks of all types that have a greater say in how mainstream life should play out. There is an equitable, respectful and trust-filled existence in community that truly needs to pervade our society and show folks that life can look and work very different than it currently does.

I believe we can all live in cities that resemble rainforests, so that we all can cherish life more than dreading many parts of it.

I believe that intentional communities are the model by which this can happen and in the meantime, I’m excited to say that I feel ready to transition into this brave new world.

Check out the rest of my journey on our 2016 Intentional Community trip.

Bundagen IC: serenity by the sea

~ DESTINATION THREE: BUNDAGEN, NSW ~

Proof that hippie communities can evolve beyond simple ideological experiments

Back at our campsite that shares the same beach as Bundagen’s intentional community, I can continue to enjoy the natural haven that is this part of the New South Wales coastline. About 20 minutes drive south of Coffs Harbour and close to the eclectic town of Bellingen which is back-dropped by a stunning Dorrigo National Park, this sub-tropical zone is our first real taste of the more northerly climes of Australia – wetter, more humid, more lush. It is an excellent climate for organic farming, straddling Mediterranean and tropical, and features lush rainforest, picturesque mountains, achingly-beautiful surf beaches and small, inviting towns. Heidi and I felt a lot of external loves and soul-filling elements clicking together here right off the bat.

For 35 years, Bundagen Cooperative has been an off-grid settlement to a group of folks looking to connect more with nature and other like-minded souls in a beautiful part of Australia. Over 110 people – spanning three generations – live and work here, growing organic veggies, meditating, playing and experiencing life mostly off the mainstream treadmill. Theirs is not a utopia, but rather what they aptly describe as “a microcosm of the macrocosm, with all the dramas of the wider world played out on our small stage.” One person we met said that it was originally a ‘social experiment’ to experience the limitations of such a community.

This community began in an appropriately activist manner: in the late 70’s, happy hippie folk used the farm land for environmentally joyful pursuits and were friendly with the local farmer who owned it. In 1981, the property came available for sale and Japanese interests swooped in with designs on redeveloping the land into a resort and golf course. The farmer sided with the concerned hippies and chose to sell the land to them which the group managed to do via their “alternative networks”. Hooray! This wily rogue of determined environmentalists defeated the big developers and have since cared very well for the land, even having part of it deemed a protected national park (Bongil Bongil).

We were originally drawn to this community as it sounded like a nice balance of alternative, sustainable, meditative/spiritual and mature. Having spent two weeks there as WWOOFers with our hosts Jo and Giri (pictured), I think that our initial hopes and assumptions were largely bang-on. From a visual perspective, Bundagen is a beautiful spot; we largely spent our time in one of 12 villages within the community – Bananas village (it was named as it was a former banana plantation, not because the people are crazy and wild like I first thought 😛 ) – and it is green, tropical and well-kept. Cars are “officially” limited in the village and the “roads” are greenways between houses (and one gorgeous path that takes you to an exquisite private stretch of beach).

Our hosts’ open-plan home, surrounded by lush rainforest

In our village, all of the homes are unique with many being hand-built creations using many types of natural materials, plus some caravans, old buses and other interesting structures thrown into the mix. There are no fences which seems obvious in a place that is supposed to promote community and openness, but experiencing it still feels very different than our mainstream suburbs where there are divisions all over the place: bitumen roads and footpaths, council-maintained areas, boundary fences and walls, chain-link in public areas, speed and traffic signs and so on. In my opinion, this is still and has always been one of the defining factors of living in community: you live together, trust each other and provide safe, harmonious and attractive common spaces that generally don’t require division or external policing. Going back into these conformist settings once you’ve been in a community like this immediately makes me feel uncomfortable. Mainstream society is largely not natural.

Other than visual appeal, the sustainable aspect is immediately obvious as well. The whole community is off-grid, so most villages have in-home composting toilets (plus a village shared loo), all water is rainwater harvested and electricity is solar. The off-grid stuff is done so well and effortlessly that you hardly notice it such that it is so well-integrated into the operation of the community. Until very recently, shared resources like a communal kitchen were still used, but an ageing population with a bit more saved income has resulted in more members building in-home conveniences and the village kitchen was torn down. There is, however, talk of building a new one, at least for a community hall to meet at. Other resources are still shared however, like tools and equipment, common machinery for maintaining roadways and lawns, and so on.

One of the biggest parts of this community (and of course the intent of all communities) is the relational part, and having spoken to numerous people about it, it seems that 95% of it is all good. Many of the folks we met had been there a long time and that in itself is indicative that members enjoy living there. It was fantastic to see so many healthy-looking 50 and 60-something folks, busy but smiling, and with tons of interesting wisdom to offer. However, of all the people we met, not one didn’t mention the challenges of conflict within a tight-knit community like Bundagen. In fact, not only do they mention their struggles with conflict resolution on their webpage, but we had numerous conversations about it, and witnessed it firsthand.

Conflict resolution and internal politics are things that we have heard about in every community so it is clear to us that it a good system needs to be established early on. Members indicate that this didn’t really happen in Bundagen and this is their only real issue. Clearly they have made it work on some level to last this long, but the potential for fallout came into full illumination with a community member who was causing a rift between villages and individuals for many years. As good stewards of communal-living principles, the community-at-large have employed ongoing attempts at personal support over time, but sterner measures were being discussed. By all counts, this is unusual but it seems like something that has gone on far longer than is needed as the community didn’t have a comprehensive plan on to come down hard on frequent offenders. A further downside that we experienced was gossip, not just from this but from other things, which I suspect could cause other rifts if left unchecked.

Having come here on the heels of our Bruderhof experience was interesting; I am always hesitant to compare communities as they are apples and oranges, but being that they are so different makes it enticing to compare. The stand-out thing about a community like this is the organic nature of everything, which has its pluses and minuses. On the plus side, Bundagen is lush, natural and beautiful with countless birds, monitor lizards, possums and bush turkeys in your garden (and the occasional python living in your rafters!); easygoing smiling folks from different walks of life doing creative and inspirational things with their diverse dwellings, clothing and interests; music/sing-along nights, working bees, clothing-optional bathing at the beach (apparently in the early days, even member meetings were in the nude!), wild organic gardens behind many homes, yoga/meditation sessions run by members; and a relaxed way of organising, administering and “being”. The downside, comparatively, might be what Bruderhof excelled at: structure and order, balanced education, blended multi-generational groups onsite, community unity (with gossip largely “outlawed”) and a central drive (Jesus) that affected every person; all this the kind of stuff that won’t happen without some forethought. Now, I know Bundagen residents would probably argue that some of those things are exactly what they don’t want, and I would personally choose a more organic lifestyle over a heavily constructed one, but there are levels of structure that Bundagen might consider virtues to employ, especially in light of their self-assessment on conflict resolution. And that’s not to say that Bundagen was lacking in a spiritual core; I think most people there felt some affinity with the Spirit, the land or both, they simply didn’t all subscribe to the exact same programme.

One thing that is obvious about community living is the great sense of unity in times of need: during our visit, a friend of our hosts passed away, and the community rushed to help with preparations, personal support and finances. Folks rallied together to give moral support with the troublesome community-member I mentioned above. When a couple of WOOFers last year got stuck in a rip in the surf, a coordinated rescue was quickly set up and the couple would have likely died had it not been for the whole community jumping into action. Of course, emergencies aren’t the norm, and you can see the day-to-day stuff like neighbours dropping in regularly, village get-togethers plus information and skills sharing. It is clearly more dynamic and functional than a typical urban suburb. This generosity of time and spirit extended to temporary folk like us, as everyone had time for a chat with relaxed exchanges and no ulterior agenda.

We ultimately spent most of our time with our hosts Jo and Giri, who fed us well (food & plenty of wine!) and kept us laughing with entertaining evening chats. They let us stay in their backyard caravan (pictured above) which was cozy and open so we could hear the birds singing and the rain fall (which it did a lot of in our last week there). Giri had us help with constructing an artistic stone wall and other manual labour, and Jo was interested in our skilled labour so we helped her with a logo and website for her business. We enjoyed their hand-crafted open-plan mud-brick home which really took advantage of the lush surrounds, and was only a 5 minute walk from the warm ocean where we often started or ended our day with a swim. The sense of peace and serenity that the location and lifestyle offered to the folks in Bananas village was quite memorable, and I could easily see why it would be enticing to live there for decades – despite the occasional conflict – as so many had done. Membership is closed at Bundagen as they are full, which also really says something about the place. Definitely a little slice of heaven!

As usual, have a look at Heidi’s take on Bundagen on her blog, Miss Roo’s Adventures.

Narara EcoVillage: A model community

~ DESTINATION ONE: GOSFORD, NSW ~

Developing a village around a community

In case you’re wondering, we don’t necessarily delve into deep research before deciding places to visit. The journey was largely cobbled together by random events or coincidences (some might say this is fate or chosen for us for a reason??).

This first instance is the result of getting newsletters for the past couple of years from Narara EcoVillage after a Google search presented it to me (Google = divine intervention) and I liked what they were offering. Following this was a combination of wanting to show Heidi this heritage theatre down at Avoca Beach plus a desire to visit friends who lived at Berowra, all of which put us in close proximity to Gosford at Narara’s property. So, with all that clicking, we thought we’d pop by for their monthly “open day” (fateful timing??)! 🙂

In all this, the only thing that may have benefitted from a bit more research may have been the fact that Narara EcoVillage doesn’t actually exist yet.

Narara, located at the outer rim of a suburb of Gosford, New South Wales, was formerly a government CSIRO horticulture site and was purchased just 4 years ago by a group of visionaries who knew right away that this was the site for their village. Upon arrival along this rambling dirt road, we were greeted by various permanent structures and a cute community house with large eaves. In and around this space, we were greeted by numerous members of the community who expertly whisked us away on a tour of the (unbeknownst to us at the time) “proposed” village.

Essentially, this is a large-ish property (150 acres) with numerous buildings on it from the time that the government used it for growing plants, testing water and so forth. The cooperative entity that they created bought the land for a bargain $5 million (down from $9 million offered before the GFC) and once the council approves the common infrastructure and rezoning applications, the members will be issued their titles to start building houses (end of 2016).

The tour took us through the dirt roads nestled in lush forest as Lincoln, our guide, provided a mountain of great info about things like the “Phase 1 development” and “cluster housing” and “proposed arts zone” and “village commercial precinct”. A great deal of thought had gone into planning the space and once we’d heard that they had been organising and waiting for nearly 5 years, it was easy to see why they were chomping at the bit to get started. The only thing holding them up was the typically sluggish and dreaded council approvals which every community with freehold lots that we’ve come across has been slowed down by.

It’s especially frustrating that positively-charged projects like this actually get held up by bureaucracy more than regular urban development when you see the menu of items that these guys are proposing: community-minded construction, safety and sustainability elements; off-grid capabilities; true community-oriented ideals; organic food growing; holistic health and work-life balance; a showcase and teaching ground for other eco-villages. In other words, a Model Community (this article about 9-star rated homes gives you a sense of what is required to be an eco-rated home). But for some reason, there are more hoops to jump through than a typical zombie-making suburb.

Narara’s vision statement sums up things nicely:

“We will research, design and build a stylish, inter-generational, friendly demonstration Ecovillage at Narara, blending the principles of eco and social sustainability, good health, business, caring and other options that may evolve for our wellbeing.”

A visit to the dam that they will draw water from to treat and supply the community over and above rainwater capture. The dam has enough water to supply the community for 5 years even if no rain fell during that period.

There are many ways to “do community” and the folks at Narara EcoVillage are trying hard to offer a different look to not only mainstream society, but also other eco-villages as well. The feeling I got from these folks was that there is true community spirit at work, and the hospitality they showed was tremendous from a group who don’t even have a physical collection of dwellings yet in place to call home(s). Developing a sense of community amongst the growing number of members (150 adults + 35 kids) was very important to them and I heard that repeated to me by various people as we watched a couple of presentations and chatted in between with the friendly future-residents. On top of that, the wide range of extremely valuable skill-sets that are employed by members of the community is enviable; they are have all the right tools to build innovative homes, take care of all ages from kids to the elderly, create lasting relationships and be economically viable.

Existing outbuildings will be very handy to re-use

The wellbeing of the group was clearly a priority and this is what started making me wonder if calling Narara an “eco-village” was accurate; from my perspective, an eco-village focuses on the land and homes with an aim to provide low-impact living from an environmental point of view. Beyond that, it operates much like a regular suburb (or, in some cases, a country club or gated community). I personally think they are firmly in the realm of a community-with-intent to provide a socially caring, burgeoning spiritual, self-sustaining village with cooperative commerce opportunities and lifestyle elements like permaculture that extend well beyond simply providing environmentally-friendly homes for folks to live in. The term “eco-village” runs along the same broad lines as “free-range” to me, and is possibly doing them a disservice IMO.

After witnessing the breadth of opportunity that the land holds, the spirit and sharing amongst the residents, and the ambitious but realistically achievable plans to transform this corner of Gosford into a shining example of a engaging and modern sustainable community, I was very impressed and excited by it. The location for me was a slight downside but an upside to others: I thought Gosford was positioned too close to Sydney insofar as real estate is still very expensive. It’s also a pretty busy place. Folks from Sydney saw it as more affordable (less outrageous than Sydney) plus it is close to beaches, the north coast and accessible by train. With land starting at $300K without a home on it, it is already too steep for people like Heidi and I. They offer a townhome idea for about $300K for a one bedroom unit, but it’s still not addressing the broader demographic of folks with low incomes. Overall, it looks like it will succeed magnificently, and we’ll certainly have to pay it a visit in a couple of years and see what it has shaped into.

Be sure to check out Heidi’s blog for an in-depth look at the social structures of Narara.

Community road-tripping, Mark II

Just a few days ago, I was in the dark, seam-sealing our tent at Heidi’s folks’ house, trying to do the last couple of chores before we officially headed out on our 2016 Intentional Community road trip. A few days before that, I indiscriminately grabbed boxes of camping gear from our long-term storage, and packed them into our car without even looking inside them to check everything was there. Thinking of this now confirms to me the somewhat blasé nature of this current expedition we are embarking on compared to the “fanfare” of last year’s first trip. That’s not to say I am treating this trip lightly, but perhaps I am approaching it with a bit more knowledge and confidence in this life direction we’re learning about.

As we wrapped up our first trip through Victoria last year, we essentially just rolled on with our world packed on our backs, hopping around Adelaide house-sitting for the next 9 months. That sense of exploration continued as we left the possibility wide open to continue our journey where we left off, hoping to cement the feeling that intentional community living was indeed our Preferred Future Lifestyle.

While Victoria offered an amazing variety of communities, we felt that we would be remiss if we didn’t investigate the glory that is the north-east of NSW and SE of Queensland. Nimbin’s famous Aquarius festival of 1973 spawned numerous “hippie” communities in these regions, with the most resilient (and presumably most successful) of these still pushing along after over 40 years. There has to be some valuable lessons to be had in these places.

A fortuitous sequence of events brought us together with a new friend, Ed Wilby, who is a founder of the Alliance of Intentional Communities Australia (AICA) and let us stay at his home (in the middle of an amazing national park) prior to this trip. It was a wonderful opportunity to spend quality time and discussion with someone who is passionate about intentional community living and development, and who may well figure into our future more prominently as I hope to help the AICA out in their fledgling developmental stages.

It feels like all roads are heading towards our intentional community dreams, which is exciting to acknowledge. In the month or so leading up to our trip, we had a selection of positively-charged community-related experiences:

a good friend came across a piece of property that could be used for a communal village and opened a dialogue about that potential
I attended a talk from a resident at 700-member Findhorn community in Scotland who introduced all sorts of interesting possibilities
had opportunities to meet some great people through Ed (mentioned above) who are in the process of going down the road of starting a community in Adelaide
stopped in for a very inspired visit at Rose and Andy’s place (Cornerstone community we visited last year) in Bendigo, Victoria who continue to blow us away with their easy spirituality and positive affect on their community
encouraging enquiries from friends we’re visiting who are taking an active interest in our journey

Kito curled up for the journey

As of this writing, we have an eco-village, an Amish-like Christian village, a seaside all-rounder community and artistic/spiritual co-op in post-Aquarius Nimbin lined up over the next month to kick off our trip, so it should be very enlightening! By some people’s standards this might all seem a bit mad, but for me this colourful list of places only serves to engage my imagination of what is possible when we break away from the structures imposed by the mainstream.

And so we embark on the next chapter of our Intentional Community Adventure; we hope you will be coming along for the ride!

You can see Heidi’s first blog post for our journey here.

Community road-trip 2016: an intro

To date, this blog has been a perpetual Work In Progress as I write about living simply, sustainability and choosing an ethical lifestyle.

In April and May 2015, my wife Heidi and I explored Victoria, Australia in search of alternative ways to do life separate from the mainstream. Throughout the journey, I wrote a regular series of entries which documented our experiences and can be read under the menu heading “Tiny House Journey >> Intentional Community >> Road trip 2015“.

This first stage road-trip around Victoria, Australia had us seeking to discover what various intentional communities, groups, individuals and families are doing in terms of living more creatively, sustainably and compassionately. We decided that this country was just too big and interesting to stop at Victoria, especially since we hadn’t visited the intentional community epicentre of Australia around NE New South Wales and SE Queensland.

Here are some quick-links of the journey as it happens:

Ultimately, our aim is to further connect with like-minded people and find security in community, not finances; share resources and ownership so as to reduce our negative impact on the planet; participate in non-violent actions to bring about a more just world; use the arts to bring people together, communicate the challenges that humanity faces, and promote positive stories and alternative ways of living; work with the land and protect/respect this Earth.

We have a lot to learn and a long way to go, hence our desire to see what other people are doing and what wisdom we can gain from and share with them. I am looking forward to what the east coast region of Australia has to offer as we forge ahead with Part 2 of our education/adventure!

~ Mike Crowhurst, March 2016