A snapshot of a community discovering what gives people meaning, joy and connection.
Last Friday’s Connection Café brought together a rich mix of stories, ideas and experiences. While the topics ranged widely, a common thread emerged throughout the afternoon: the importance of connection – with nature, with neighbours, and with one another.
A recurring theme for the Connection Café in Geelong is the exploration of how we nurture these kind of ‘small islands of joy and stability’.
One participant shared the joy of transforming the back area of a court into an Australian native garden. The project has turned out to be low-maintenance and low-water-use, while also creating conversations and interest among neighbours. The next step is extending the idea to the nature strip. What began as a gardening project has become a way of building community.
This led naturally into a discussion about local environmental initiatives. We heard about a Rotary-led project that began in Highton and has since expanded to involve clubs across the region. Residents can sign up and collect native plants from Lara, helping to create greener and more resilient neighbourhoods.
Another participant spoke about the process of refining a book manuscript. The focus was not simply on conveying information, but on telling a story – one that celebrates those who act as warriors for the human spirit. This connected with a broader discussion about the importance of deepening our awareness of the world around us.
Several people mentioned being inspired by writers and thinkers who encourage us to look beneath the surface of current events and reconnect with what really matters.
Australian author and journalist Sarah Wilson’s writing and videos were mentioned as an example of work that helps deepen our awareness. One participant had brought Wilson’s latest book, ‘I Eat the Stars’, which she had just started reading. She promised we’ll hear more about it at the next Connection Café.
She had just finished reading Luke Kemp’s book ‘Goliath’s Curse – The History and Future of Societal Collapse’, which she passed on for another one of the participants to read. In 580 pages, it examines what history can teach us about resilience, adaptation and the choices that shape the fate of societies.
. . .
Change begins locally
A recurring theme throughout the afternoon was the belief that small groups are the way forward. In a world where we are not going where we should be going and where so much around us seems corrupted, driven by selfishness and short-sightedness, small groups in the local community offer a very different way forward.
Despite the current state of the world and frustration with political and institutional systems, there was a strong sense that meaningful change often begins locally, through relationships and practical action.
One participant described their motivation as helping people fall in love with the Earth. Rather than focusing on fear or guilt, they spoke about creating positive experiences that strengthen people’s connection to nature.
Housing and community resilience were also discussed. We heard about an upcoming tiny house open day and concerns about the growing number of people living in cars. The conversation explored possibilities for connecting people who have available land with those looking for a place to locate a tiny house. Services such as Park My Tiny House were mentioned as examples of how practical solutions can emerge when people start connecting needs with resources.
. . .
Positivity in politics
Climate action featured strongly in the discussion. One participant shared their experience of helping generate more than 200 letters urging the Borough of Queenscliffe to take stronger action on climate issues. Others reflected on the importance of communicating with elected representatives in positive and constructive ways.
There is this growing negativity everywhere. It’s on our screens, it’s in the air. There is a sense that many people are angry. They’re angry with the direction of the country. Bullying, booing, people being nasty to one another. It’s spreading like thorny brambles. The anger and constant complaining makes some of them look like they have spent a lifetime shaping their faces into sour gooseberries, always scolding and ready to lash out.
At our previous Connection Café, (held on the fourth Friday of every month), one of the participants suggested how we can offer something that’s better than that, something that would be far more powerful in politics. It’s called: positivity.
Which is about showing care. It’s about choosing an optimistic approach to what we can achieve when we try to work together, when we accept and respect one another. About trying to be good, instead of wanting to be one of the baddies, one of the bullies in the schoolyard.
So the suggestion was that we should send a letter of positivity to one of our politicians, because we assume that that’s probably not something that these politicians receive very often. And we were talking about someone who day after day is making a positive difference in the Australian parliament. He’s a community independent, he’s a former footballer, and his name is David Pocock.
So here’s the letter we wrote:
Letter of Positivity
Dear Senator David Pocock,
We are a small community group based in Geelong, meeting monthly at our Connection Cafe gatherings. At our most recent meeting, we felt it was an important moment to write to you, to express our sincere appreciation for the work you are doing on behalf of the community in Canberra. We believe your efforts are not always recognised as much as they deserve. Your commitment, integrity, and clear focus on the public good stand out and we want to acknowledge the value of what you are achieving.As a group, we are deeply engaged in community wellbeing, environmental issues and the growing impacts of climate change. We are currently working to build broader community support for stronger action from our local councils, the City of Greater Geelong, Surf Coast Shire and the Borough of Queenscliff, particularly in maintaining and strengthening their commitments to environmental sustainability and climate response. At the same time, we are closely observing the resistance faced by many of the thoughtful and forward-looking initiatives put forward by independent members of parliament. It is concerning to see how often these ideas are met with opposition that does not reflect the broader community interests.
We share a growing concern about the influence of lobbyists and about the role some parliamentarians play in spreading misinformation and lacking transparency. This undermines public trust and risks disengaging the very people whose voices are essential in a healthy democracy. For these reasons, we felt it was important not only to express our concerns, but also to say thank you. Your work gives us encouragement and reinforces the importance of continued community engagement and advocacy. And sending this open letter to you simply feels good. Please accept our sincere appreciation for your dedication and leadership. It does not go unnoticed.”
The letter will be sent physically from the Connection Café here in Geelong next month. Because it is an open letter, anyone who would like to add their name before it is sent to David Pocock (as a physical letter on paper) is welcome to do so. Just open this Google document and add your name at the bottom.
. . .
Excitement around homegrown food
Perhaps the most animated conversation of the afternoon centred on food growing and resilience. Inspired by a recently shared video about a man, Alik Pelman, living in a climate similar to Geelong who grows all of his own food, participants explored what might be possible at both household and community levels.
The story sparked considerable excitement. The system relies on legumes, wheat and other staple crops, using natural processes such as nitrogen fixation rather than irrigation, pesticides or intensive maintenance. The man reportedly spends only around 24 hours a month tending the system.
You can watch Alik’s story here, or read the transcript below:
For many in the room, the most inspiring aspect was not the self-sufficiency itself, but the realisation that nature does most of the work when systems are designed well. The discussion highlighted the importance of understanding local microclimates, choosing appropriate plants, and learning from traditional knowledge.
There was particular interest in legumes and perennial grasses, including experiments with kangaroo grass. Several people spoke about the excitement of discovering edible and useful plants already growing around them. One participant described taking their existing permaculture practice to a new level through foraging and learning about native and edible plants, one species at a time.
. . .
Relationships, trust and community
The discussion about Alik’s food-growing system wasn’t people sitting around wishing for a better future. It was people becoming animated, inspired and energised by new possibilities. That’s joy. And joy has another advantage over hope: Joy is contagious. Where hope often remains internal, joy spreads.
A joyful person plants a native garden, shares some seedlings, gives away vegetables, invites a neighbour over, starts a community group, writes a positive letter to a politician. Joy leads to action.
The conversation repeatedly returned to the idea that much of what we need is already around us. What is often missing is knowledge – and perhaps the confidence to reclaim knowledge that previous generations took for granted.
One participant reflected on biodiversity, sharing examples of extraordinary species richness in very small areas. Another observed that remarkable systems can be built from almost nothing when people understand how natural systems function.
The topic of ageing and care also emerged, with discussion about the importance of building support networks before they are needed. Relationships, trust and community connections were seen as essential forms of wealth – perhaps more important than financial wealth.
Towards the end of the afternoon, the conversation turned to the challenge of bringing people together across social and political divides.
Several participants reflected on how easy it is to assume that people who think differently are uninformed or have been manipulated to seeing the world differently. Yet behind every viewpoint is a personal story and life experience. Understanding what motivates people may be more important than trying to tell them what to do.
This led to a powerful observation: perhaps we have spent too much time telling people what they should do, and not enough time showing them what is possible.
The conversation around the tables contrasted with the emotional atmosphere that many people experience online. There is frustration about politics and climate inaction in Australia, but the overall feeling here was not anger. It was curiosity.
That may be a distinctive thing about the Connection Café concept.
Not:
“Who should we blame?”
But:
“What can we learn from each other?”
Not:
“How do we win the argument?”
But:
“How do we build relationships and spread joy?”
Throughout the afternoon there was a strong sense that small acts matter. Sharing vegetables with neighbours. Growing native plants. Learning the names of local species. Supporting older community members. Writing letters. Creating tiny islands of joy, resilience and stability.
As one participant put it, we need to get beyond language divides and find common ground. Sometimes that common ground is as simple as saying:
“Here’s some vegetables I’ve grown.”
That is where many of the most important conversations can begin.
You can read more about Geelong’s Connection Café on www.climatesafety.info/connectioncafe. The next Connection Café in Geelong will be on Friday 26 June 2026 at 3pm, Shop 8, Centrepoint Arcade, 132 Little Malop Street.
Join the first large-scale behavioral study on reducing meat consumption
Earthday.org, The Alliance, and researchers at Stanford University are partnering on one of the largest-ever studies exploring how plant-based diets impact human health and planetary wellbeing.
Participants can contribute to a large international study over a two-week period with only a small time commitment.
The study will start on 2 June 2026.
Here’s how the study will work:
At the start of the study, you’ll answer a few onboarding questions.
Each day of the study, you’ll report what meat, dairy, and eggs you ate.
At the end of the study, you’ll answer a few questions about your experience.
→ You can sign up here: www.plantbasedstudy.org
Learn about self-sufficiency and living in harmony with nature
Alik Pelman spends 24 hours a month growing all the food he needs to meet his entire nutritional needs on 750 square metres of land. (That’s 0.075 hectars or 0.185 acres.)
Feeding himself requires on average only one hour of work per workday, and he uses only rain water for most of his crops.
Cereal grains that could work well in the Geelong region are Kangaroo Grass (themeda triandra), Weeping Grass (microlaena stipoides) and Native Millet (panicum decompositum).
How does he do it, what does he eat, and what can we learn from him about self sufficiency? Watch this 2024-episode of the Eco no-mads series, 25 minutes on youtube:
Man grows ALL of his food on 750m2
TRANSCRIPT
Chapter 1: Intro
Narrator:
When I heard there was a man who grows all of his own food, I assumed it must take all of his time and effort. But when he told me he spends only one day a month doing it, I thought we could all learn something about self-sufficiency from him.
Welcome to Eon Nomads, where we explore different ways humanity could live in harmony with nature once again.
This is Episode Three. I hope you enjoy it.
. . .
Chapter 2: The plan
Interviewer:
I thought: “That’s a good plan. If I want to learn how to do something and have no experience, I’ll find someone who already does it and learn from them.”
So I started looking for people who grow all of their own food. At first I imagined there might be 200 people like that in Israel. Then I thought perhaps 50.
My plan was simple: find them, write to them, and hopefully a few would reply. Then I would choose one and become their apprentice.
But when I started searching, I couldn’t find them. People suggested I look beyond mainstream Israeli society and speak with Arab communities, where people are often more connected to the land and traditional ways of living.
So I did. Yet I couldn’t find a single person growing more than about 30 per cent of their own calories. That’s when I realised I would have to learn it myself.
. . .
Chapter 3: Meet Alik
Alik Pelman:
I’m Alik Pelman. I suppose the reason you’re here is that I grow all of my own food. I don’t buy food from supermarkets, and I built this house myself. People often describe it as ecological. Those are probably the things that attract visitors to this place.
What’s interesting is that this system has actually been studied scientifically. We recently completed research on the farm, and a paper is about to be published in a scientific journal.
The surprising finding is that it takes me only about one day a month to produce all my food.
Interviewer:
One day a month? What do you mean?
Alik:
About 24 hours per month in total.
. . .
Chapter 4: About the garden
Alik:
The entire food system occupies about 750 square metres. Around 200 square metres are devoted to wheat. About 300–350 square metres are used for pulses – in my case, fava beans. The olive trees are integrated among the crops, so they don’t really take up additional growing space.
The vegetable garden covers roughly 150 square metres.
The wheat, beans and olive trees rely entirely on rainfall. I don’t irrigate them. Only the vegetable garden receives irrigation. It’s a very low-maintenance system.
The vegetable garden takes about half a day of work per month. Everything else takes another half day.
Interviewer:
So you don’t work on it every day?
Alik:
No. There are many weeks when I do nothing at all except harvest food and eat it.
Interviewer:
Then what do you do with the rest of your time?
Alik:
I work full-time in academia. I’m a research fellow and university lecturer.
. . .
Chapter 5: About the dream
Alik:
As a boy, I had a dream that many people have – a kind of Robinson Crusoe dream.
The idea of not depending on anyone else. Building your own house. Growing your own food. Taking care of yourself.
For many years, though, it remained only a dream.
I followed the normal path of life in Israel: school, military service, university, travel.
Travelling actually strengthened my attraction to this way of living. At the same time, it made me increasingly dissatisfied with the lifestyle that most people are expected to follow.
You choose a career, buy a house, pay a mortgage, get married, have children, and continue along a predetermined path.
That never appealed to me very much. But what finally pushed me to act was growing environmental and social awareness. I became increasingly conscious of the damage caused by our normal way of life.
What struck me most was the realisation that even well-intentioned people cause enormous harm simply by participating in modern society. You turn on an air conditioner when you’re hot. You drive somewhere because you need something. You consume energy and resources without really thinking about it.
I reached a point where that became difficult for me to accept. I felt I could no longer continue passively participating in a system that was causing so much damage.
When I first started growing food, I focused on vegetables. Looking back, that was a mistake. Vegetables are important, but they don’t provide many calories. Even people who eat lots of vegetables typically get only about 20 per cent of their calories from them.
If your goal is self-sufficiency, vegetables are actually one of the last things you should focus on. You begin with staple crops: cereals, legumes and oils. Those are what keep you alive.
Interviewer:
What about animal foods?
Alik:
You can do that, but then you need roughly ten times more land.
The animals become a middle step in the food chain. You have to grow food for them, and they use most of the energy themselves.
Very roughly speaking, animals convert only a small fraction of the calories they consume into food for humans. That’s why animal foods have traditionally been a relatively small part of the diet in most agricultural societies. They’re delicious, but they’re not very efficient.
Of course, there are exceptions. In places where crops grow poorly – such as Arctic regions or high mountain environments – people have historically relied much more on animals.
But in this region, the traditional food system was based on crops. The agricultural revolution itself is surprisingly recent. Humans have existed for around 200,000 years, but agriculture emerged only about 10,000 years ago. For most of human history, people didn’t plant seeds. They gathered food from nature. Agriculture is actually a very new technology in the long story of humanity.
. . .
Chapter 6: The formula
Alik:
The basic formula is surprisingly simple: a cereal crop, a legume, and a source of oil. What’s fascinating is that this formula emerged independently all over the world.
In China, for example, the staple combination became rice, soybeans and soybean oil.
In Mexico, it was maize, beans and oil from crops such as corn, sunflower or avocado.
Different cultures developed different foods, but the underlying pattern remained remarkably similar. A grain for carbohydrates, a legume for protein, and a source of fat. That’s the same principle I’ve applied here.
. . .
Chapter 7: Recipes
Interviewer:
So from vegetables, fava beans, wheat and olive oil – how many different meals can you actually make?
Alik:
More than people imagine.
Remember, these basic ingredients sustained entire civilisations for thousands of years. Every culture developed countless recipes from a relatively small number of staple foods.
In the Middle East alone, there are many traditional dishes built around wheat, legumes and olive oil.
Take wheat. You can cook the grain whole and eat it much like rice. You can mill it into flour. You can make semolina. You can turn it into porridge, breads, cakes and bulgur.
Bulgur is simply wheat that has been cooked, dried and crushed. To prepare it, you only need to add boiling water and wait twenty minutes.
The same applies to fava beans. You can boil them, turn them into falafel, make spreads, soups and many other dishes.
Today we also have access to culinary knowledge from around the world. We can learn from Japanese cuisine, Mediterranean cuisine, Indian cuisine – and adapt those ideas using local ingredients.
For example, I’ve experimented with making products inspired by miso and soy sauce using chickpeas, barley and other crops grown here.
So the possibilities are much greater than people assume.
Interviewer:
And what is this display?
Alik:
I use it when visitors come. This represents approximately the amount of food needed to sustain one person for a day. About 50 grams of oil, 200 grams of beans, around 400 grams of wheat and some vegetables. Altogether, that’s roughly 2,000 calories.
Nutritionally, it provides about 50 per cent carbohydrates, 20 per cent protein and 30 per cent fat.
. . .
Chapter 8: Calculation
Alik:
Most farmers begin by asking: “What can I sell?” – “What are people willing to buy?” – “How much money will I make?”
I approached the problem from the opposite direction.
First I calculated my nutritional requirements. I worked out how much food I needed each day and multiplied that by 365 days.
That gave me annual targets of roughly:
• 50 kilograms of wheat
• 90 kilograms of beans
• 20 kilograms of olive oil
• 300–400 kilograms of vegetables
Once I had those numbers, I calculated how much land each crop would require. Then I planted accordingly. It’s a very different way of thinking about agriculture.
. . .
Chapter 9: What kept me confident
Interviewer:
What gave you confidence that this approach would work?
Alik:
History. People lived this way for thousands of years. It’s not rocket science. You need sunlight, water, healthy soil and crops that are suited to your local conditions. Grow things in season. Use varieties adapted to your region.
For example, I wouldn’t try growing rice here. It would be one failure after another. But wheat has been growing in this region for thousands of years. It belongs here.
In many cases, you simply sow the seed, leave it alone, and return when it’s ready to harvest. Nature already knows what to do.
. . .
Chapter 10: Wheat
Alik:
This small patch of wheat is about two square metres. It produces enough grain for one loaf of bread. If you eat around two loaves a week, that’s roughly 100 loaves a year.
Multiply that by two square metres per loaf and you need only about 200 square metres of wheat to supply all your cereal needs for an entire year. That’s a surprisingly small area.
The fava beans are equally important. For a few weeks each year, I eat them fresh and green. Then I allow them to dry completely before storing them.
When properly dried, they can remain edible for years. They’re one of the best plant-based sources of protein available – around 30 per cent protein by weight. But their value goes beyond nutrition. Fava beans are nitrogen-fixing plants. When wheat grows, it removes nitrogen from the soil. Beans do the opposite. They enrich the soil by adding nitrogen back into it.
So after harvesting beans, the next crop benefits from increased soil fertility. That’s why I sometimes call them the “plant of life”. They provide one of the nutrients our bodies need most – protein – while also providing one of the nutrients agriculture needs most: nitrogen.
. . .
Chapter 11: Meal
Alik:
This meal is made entirely from food grown here. There’s falafel, bread, olives and mayonnaise made from olive oil and aquafaba – the cooking water from the beans. The salad comes directly from the garden. The green sauce contains coriander, garlic, hot pepper and spices.
Everything on the table was produced on this property.
. . .
Chapter 12: Permaculture
Alik:
Before starting this project, I visited a number of permaculture farms. What surprised me was that many of them were still purchasing most of their food from elsewhere.
At the time, some were buying around 95 per cent of what they consumed. That wasn’t what I was looking for. I wanted to know whether complete food self-sufficiency was actually possible.
When I finally tried it myself, it went far better than I expected. Of course, there were failures. But I always had enough food.
In twelve years, I can remember only two occasions when I had to buy wheat, both after wild boars damaged my crop. Otherwise, I’ve been fully self-sufficient.
Most people assume it would require a full-time job. Many scientists and agricultural experts make similar assumptions. They imagine it requires vast amounts of land, water, labour and specialised knowledge. But my experience has been very different.
The Western Galilee receives around 750 millimetres of rainfall each year – not dramatically different from places like London. The difference is that most of our rain falls during winter.
So my staple crops grow during the rainy season, are harvested dry, and then stored for year-round consumption. In regions with two rainy seasons, such as parts of Asia, the same system could potentially be even more productive. The exact design would vary according to climate, but the principle is widely adaptable.
. . .
Chapter 13: Conclusion
Narrator:
Today, around 35 per cent of the Earth’s land surface is used for agriculture. Yet many of the methods we rely on – including large-scale monocultures and intensive chemical farming – are degrading the very ecosystems that sustain us. Organic matter is disappearing from soils. Biodiversity is declining. Water systems are under increasing pressure.
Watching Alik’s experiment raises an interesting question: What if we began by asking what humanity actually needs to eat?
What if we designed agricultural systems around meeting those nutritional needs in the most efficient and ecological way possible?
Many people dismiss such ideas as unrealistic. Yet agriculture itself has changed dramatically throughout history. Industrial farming, which now seems normal, is less than a century old. And given the rate at which current practices are depleting soils and ecosystems, change may not be optional.
Across the world, more farmers are exploring regenerative approaches and rediscovering ways of working with nature rather than against it. Ultimately, our most valuable assets are not financial. They are healthy ecosystems, fertile soils and clean water. Everything else depends on them.