Finding myself in regional Victoria
Reflections on a path to the country life
It’s been just over a year since my partner and I bought our first place together in Strathbogie, a quaint town hidden on top of a giant 300 million-year-old granite geological feature protruding from the lowlands, with forests and spring-fed creeks and the best beer/cider brewery you will ever come across.
It was our collective dream to find a place of our own, grow vegetables, keep some chickens and tinker away at different projects in a community where we could build climate resilience. To finally be living that dream has brought us so much happiness.
As a millennial, buying a place of your own almost seems impossible. People around me seem shocked that I managed to make it happen, as they suffer through uncertain rental markets, barely meeting the cost of living. Sometimes I feel like we are almost programmed to believe it’s unattainable and beyond our ability to escape the rental matrix. That there are no other options to living a city life if you want to make it in this world. That there aren’t avenues to explore so that you can find your own lil slice of paradise or sense of purpose beyond the rat race.
I know that some unique situations made my lifestyle possible. Still, overall, it was a series of aligned choices, devotion to a vision, a rejection of a story being fed to me by society and sheer hard work that made it all happen.
In 2019, I knew I had had enough of living in Melbourne. I was over the cost of living in a city, as well as a lot of other things. I remember feeling quite jaded by my life there for many years and held a general feeling that I didn’t belong living my days out in the way I was. I recall when I was 25, I came home from living in the Amazon rainforest for a few months as a university student, and I missed it terribly. Living amongst the trees, with the elements, the birds and the simplicity of just being felt like a coming home to myself. I could be with my environment and live. Live with the land.
When I returned home, I spent 3 more years in Melbourne. By 28, my party days had reached an expiry. I was bored of the monotony of social situations I continuously found myself in. Over the relationship I was in. The way I was treating myself, my body. And ultimately, I was bored and searching for something to support me in my expansion. I could sense I was on the precipice of something big, and that was taking a leap of faith in life waiting for me beyond the urban cityscapes.
I spent my teenage years as a little emo and young twenties exploring and journeying through many facets the city had to offer me and I am so grateful for the gifts it provided me with. The experiences, the friends, the adventures, the raves, the art exhibitions, the botanical garden picnics, but a series of unfortunate events took place, some friends passed away shining a big light on what was seriously beginning to unravel around me, and a higher calling was always there. The lifestyle I had cultivated had become unsustainable and unaligned.
At 27 I remember feeling a deep disconnection between myself and the world around me. I always had this burning fire within myself spurring me on towards something more. I spent the better part of my young twenties, partying, studying environmental science and involving myself in direct action blockading forests. I travelled all over Victoria and interstate searching for possums and native wildlife to protect from the destruction of clear-fell logging and learning how to climb trees and sit in them to fight off the machines. There was always this undercurrent within me which was radical and vehemently believed in fighting for a better world. I was always going out to a blockade, protest or action by myself however, no one around me seemed to have that same drive to take action, and at times it left me feeling a little isolated.
It was in 2018 that I met a bunch of epic blockaders who became some of the best friends I still have today. These people were quite different from some of my Melbourne mates. They were very political, nature nerds into staying up all night in the bush instead of the club. I started feeling a pull towards a different crowd and people who were interested in regenerative and post-capitalism ideas and making that a reality. Who were figuring out ways to run their landcruisers on vegetable oil and make biochar for their vegetable gardens.
Fast forward a long story, it was clear that I needed to get out of Melbourne and spread my wings. After a pilgrimage to my mothers’ homeland in Spain, walking El Camino de Santiago, and coming back with an affirmed perspective that Melbourne was no longer the place for me, I set in motion an exit strategy.
-Break up with your boyfriend you should probably have done so a lot earlier. Tick.
-Find temporary alternative living where the rental cost will surely put the nail in the coffin of you ever wanting to pay rent in Melbourne again (thanks Fitzroy for the memories). Tick.
-Put all your life into storage on an epic farm and spend Christmas with your friends family, tasting that fresh country air, immersing yourself in a country lifestyle. Tick.
-Free yourself on an epic road trip through the heart of Central desert Australia, cleansing and resetting your energy field, attuning yourself to this great land once more. Tick.
And so it was, there was no turning back.
A lot of people think the country life must be pretty boring. That you will run out of things to do, no people to see, no parties to attend. But the opposite is true for me. Since I left Melbourne I have had nothing but fulfilling and enriching experiences. I don’t need to escape my reality or numb myself anymore, because I am high on experiencing the world around me. I don’t need to run away from and mask my pain, the countryside healed me. I would say it saved me from an aching emptiness and dissatisfaction I consistently felt in life, and deep patterns of self-destruction.
Five years on, I now feel I am completely within my purpose and have a connection to place, to the Country I live on. I have witnessed a year of seasonal changes. I have loved every part of the night sky as it has oscillated above me. I have sunk my roots into a land and community I can see myself spending many years living amongst, raising children and giant zucchini.
Image: Our home in Strathbogie
When I decided to leave Melbourne, I made a vow to never pay rent again or settle for anything less than what I truly deserved. This vow also took place in front of my fireplace altar, and subsequently, I have not paid rent since 2019. Instead, I bartered for my stay. I lived on a regeneration farm, learning regen agricultural practices and farming piggies. I lived with generous activists and lived an alternative lifestyle, in a forest community. I know this is not for everyone, but this is my story. I found a more integrated, alive, connected, aware, and healthy version of myself amongst these experiences. A version of myself not consistently outsourcing but finally resourcing my happiness. I also found a man who can meet me in all my passions and dreams who I lived with in a caravan tiny-home for the better part of covid lockdowns.
When all those hellish covid lockdowns ended, I knew I wanted financial security and living independence and that there was only one way to achieve that. Hard work. I was fortunate enough to gain employment as a campaigner, applying all my campaigning, events and fundraising skills (I had mostly acquired via volunteering over many years within the forest movement), and began earning a decent wage with no overheads (rent, bills). I saw the opportunity I had and seized it. It was only a matter of time before my partner and I grew a decent savings account.
A few years on and we came to own a fully renovated federation home in the most beautiful place on sacred Taungurung Country, situated only 2 hours from Melbourne, an hour from Mt. Buller, close to the Vic Alps as well as gorgeous rivers. I can be the witch in the woods, with the love of my life. We can scoot down to Melbourne if we need to and adventure around beautiful forests on our doorstep.
We live in a community where people share vegetables and swap via a communal share shed on the main street. Where locals gather for the tastiest and cheapest woodfire pizza on a Thursday night in summer. Where my job takes me to some of the most beautiful places, exploring and regenerating the land. Where the landscape holds me gently and nourishes my soul. With neighbours who look after our chickens if we need to go away without any expectation of something in return. Where I gift them produce and they gift some back. Where I can purchase ethical and sustainable meat and raw milk. Where reciprocity generates abundance. Where the gift economy exists.
And all of this occurred because of a belief of mine that there was something more waiting for me out there and that having a lil place of my own was achievable. It may be a little cliche, but if you believe enough in something, you will find a way to make it happen. I know first-hand. And this life is certainly too short to waste a moment living somewhere that doesn’t serve you, enduring a job you detest or staying in any situation you’d rather not!
I found myself in regional Victoria because I followed myself out here and I don’t see myself ever looking back. There are only the mountains on the horizon ahead.