Being self sufficient means doing almost everything yourself.
Think twice what that actually means.
For the last two decades, I have had the opportunity to work and live in cities. Austin was the first city I worked in, stretched over great distances and designed for people to live in large houses, with large cars and carefully landscaped lawns in front of and behind the house.
Then I moved to the east and lived in compact and noisy Shanghai, where there were as many of us in one district as all Slovenes combined. Almost impossible pollution conditions and huge crowds every where you turn.
And finally in the north of Europe, in Amsterdam, where, no matter the weather, everyone rides a bike. And where, no matter how little space, everyone knows how to find a place to play and relax, on a roof, by a canal, even in the the bustle of the street.
Throughout my work, I have heard many times that the only way forward for the future is for us all to live in cities because we then have the least impact on the environment. The whole concept and solution for the upcoming climate change has thus been minimized to the number of square meters per capita. Today, this is no longer heard as often and the pandemic has made even more visible how much energy, logistics and infrastructure is needed to supply more people. And also how vulnerable we are with such a lifestyle when a global crisis strikes. Today, environmental and social indicators give us a clear and not very colorful picture of the future, where we will not be able to live as we are today, and which will require increasing adjustments on a personal, national and global level.
System change not climate change
In recent years, Amsterdam has been experiencing a growing movement that is part of the global demand of people and emphasizes System change — Not climate change. Protests are taking place in the streets and people are resolutely demanding changes in policy commitments and faster action. I myself have been a part of this several times, most recently on an unforgettable day in October 2019, when we sat in front of the largest art institution, the Rijksmuseum, and blocked the main road. It was a day of great solidarity and connection with a common vision that it is still time for a better future if we act now. We knew then and we know now that we will have to live differently.
In cities, life will need to adapt to new conditions. More and more people are already looking for the possibility of living outside the cities, and quite a few of us end up opting for less comfort in exchange for more peace, living in nature and less dependence on today’s system.
‘System change is personal’ — Nora Bateson
I think about this many times now that I live in a mountain village where the first neighbor is a 10 minute walk and the first store is a good 20 minutes drive down the hill. Self-sufficiency on the slope does not mean just taking care of yourself, but living and working so that we can help each other and complement each other with food, tools and skills, because it is difficult to have and know everything for everything you need to live here.
So, for example, my mom has a small flock of sheep, and when we need some extra land so we can expand the field or help plan extra fruit storage, we donate a sheep for that favor. I raised a lot more pumpkins this summer than we could eat, and I liked to trade them for cow’s milk at a neighbor’s, where they were then used to feed the pigs. When the battery in the car is empty, we go to the neighbor for the starter, and then we do something for their children. Or a neighbor needs a big pot to cook lard and brings me a whole bucket of cracklings in return. And so on. No advertising of service prices, no written contracts, but just a quiet understanding of what someone needs and a willingness to help at any hour.
What role should we look for in which system ?
On a daily basis I see how our economic system is set up and how stubborn it is to resist change. When I lived in cities and worked in the field of environmental protection, I was often criticized because of course I also had to fly airplanes, I had almost no time for anything other than work so I ate a lot outside, bought things that were not necessary and in general lived quite contrary to how all the indicators for our future suggested we should live . Such work was financially well rewarded and the excuse I used and heard elsewhere was that we were trying to do a lot of good and so could disregard the fact that we were not living the way we were trying to ‘teach’ others to live.
And now I am here, at 800m above sea level on 2 acres that my mother inherited from her parents. We have our solar energy. We have our water. Heat is obtained from the remnants of the forest in the immediate vicinity. We eat most of what we grow and cook at home. Because we are outside a lot, living spaces are small and more modest.
In the winter, because of the snow, there is not so much work outdoors — a few hours a day to prepare firewood, and to make the necessary renovations and repairs. Because darkness falls quickly there is time to learn and read.
In the summer it is much more intense and the chores are lined up throughout the day in order to be as self-sufficient as possible. I grow a lot of vegetables, take care of the house, cook, help with mowing and harvesting hay, feed animals, look after my sister’s children… I go to town twice a week if necessary, I haven’t been on a plane since the pandemic. Compared to the previous urban life, this way of life would quickly be described as idyllic as well as sustainable. Life is really much simpler this way, but on the other hand it is also much more demanding in finding a way to survive and especially discovering how it all works.
How do we talk and live self-sufficiently
I realize how our existing system is prone to rewarding a life that is at odds with sustainability. Talking about sustainability and self-sufficiency is welcomed. Living accordingly — a little less.
For a simpler way of self-sufficiency, linked to nature and local production, there is no mechanism to support this in practice, without having to be included in the very classic forms of the old system. Despite the fact that such a life is actually a relief to the existing system because:
• hard-to-reach slopes are cultivated,
• the biodiversity is increased
• new approaches to cultivating steep areas can be tested,
• there is a potential for reproduction and return of species that belong on this type of land,
• a part of the culture and values that are part of our history and thus also a part of us is preserved,
• a certain number of people do not need urban infrastructure and services.
So how do you live with the goal of self-sufficiency and do I still need to play a decent role in this existing system?
The issues I discuss on a daily basis touch on both systems — the one we live in today and the one we are moving into due to the great changes in the world.
Why should I have a role in the old system so I can create a new one?
Why should I do tourism if I want to spend time growing food that is healthy so I can feed my extended family and propagate seeds to preserve indigenous species and biodiversity?
Why should I have extended numbers of livestock if these hills were all sown with cereals, fruits and vegetables before industrialization? Each house had only a few head of cattle, the meat and dairy products were for home use.
Why is according to the farming guidelines a meadow orchard not enough for the ‘productivity’ of a meadow, when here in this village no fruit trees have been planted in the last 70+ years?
How, then, should my work be defined? Farmer, entrepreneur, environmentalist, housewife, wife, daughter, godmother… I do all this at different times of the day. I do all this because it is possible to create new paths, and I am none of that if someone wants to put me in the drawer of professions and specialized activities.
In more details:
I am not a farmer because we have ‘only’ a small number of small ruminants and a few chickens and fish, a meadow orchard and three large food gardens. And all that on ‘only’ two hectares. It is not possible to grow food for the market on this steep part. However, it is possible to increase and bring back indigenous and forgotten varieties, plant forest gardens and raise a small number of animals that help in cultivating the soil and improving the quality of the soil.
I am not an entrepreneur because I do most of the counseling for free for those who need my experience. However, I no longer want to work in the field of sustainability where I get paid well, but they only take certain ideas that are easy to do and sell, and for that I would need to sit on Zoom calls for hours and hours.
I don’t want to be ‘just’ a housewife, because unfortunately there is no real space for this kind of work in our economic system, and thus there is very little respect in society and it remains invisible work, regardless of the fact that having a nice home takes its time.
In addition to all the above, I do not consider myself unemployed because I have work, projects and new ideas over my head to fill 10+ more hours a day.
So again — as many times before in my career — I am without status and description. I don’t belong anywhere, and I can’t say in one sentence through the elevator pitch what I’m doing and why. What I can say is that I have the smallest footprint ever in my whole life and that I feel very content and aligned with my values living this way.
The question that remains is — if there are more and more of us who dare to take such a step, where will it turn out that our work and, last but not least, the courage to decide to live differently will belong somewhere and be respected?
Mihela Hladin Wolfe, January 22, 2022
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