As I look back on six years of being the editor of this little publication, and the years I’ve spent writing about my strawbale building project, one thing that has been consistent is the fresh perspective I get from people who are seeing my project for the first time.
Liz here, sharing my experiences of building a straw bale building in a rural ecovillage in Missouri.
It’s hard to describe the personal hurdles overcome, the losses, the wins, the disappointments, the moments of discouragement and the decision fatigue that have come with the seven-year journey that is my project. So mostly I don’t try. There is the satisfaction and joy of building things that keeps me coming back to it. But some questions from the latest natural building workshop students and the latest visitor program guests inspired me to describe some of the personal aspects to the project.
I read recently that fears pop up in our lives so they can be released. We think of fears as being immovable, but my experience is that different fears can be addressed differently. Some fears just need encouragement and support and maybe a physical presence from someone who supports you, who holds you accountable in a loving way as you walk your way through it. I have a memory of teaching a woman how to use a table saw for the first time, and the spontaneous gathering of other women working there around her, cheering her on as she cut her first board.
Some fears need a f—k it I’m doing this anyway mindset. I used this approach a lot at the beginning of my project because I didn’t have any experience to draw on. I did ask a few people whether they thought I should do it, but in the end it’s just you making the decision. In the end it was knowing myself and wanting to have this knowledge and experience and that taking the leap would provide me with that experience, and wouldn’t that be the coolest thing ever? It was also a controllable risk, where I could pull out at any point.
I often address my fears by addressing everything about it within my control and then reassessing to see if I can do whatever it is. Sometimes I’ll do something I’m afraid of because someone is standing right there and I don’t want to admit I’m afraid (a version of the f—k it, I’m doing it anyway approach). Coming out on the other side of a fear builds confidence and resilience; and sometimes reminding myself of that is what prompts me to put a fear aside.
Another aspect to the build for me was shifting from unconsciously being pulled into being who others thought I should be, to being who I actually am. As I move into older age, I test and confirm who I actually am. I do slip into being an older person, especially when others assume who I am and what I’m capable of based on stereotypes. But I end up rebelling against it, usually because being treated like a stereotype feels awful, and that’s my signal to test and confirm who I actually am. This last cycle of that was a doozy. It took a lot of effort to finally pull out of it.
There are many advantages to working alone, as I have decided to do this building season. Autonomy and sovereignty are high on my personal needs list, and working alone this season allows me to break the dynamic of the last seven years of teaching people how to do things while learning them myself for the first time, while being leaned on as a teacher and “decider,” while being assessed on the outcome as if I was a pro.
Working on my own, I can listen to music in my ear buds as I work, not needing to be available for interruption at a moment’s notice with questions from others. I can make decisions in my head, without the struggle to be patient and diplomatic while I field suggestions from others, even while I have most times already considered and decided against those suggestions (I do spend a considerable amount of waking hours thinking about building, compared to most people).
And sometimes there are drawbacks, as I experienced last week. I was putting decking boards on top of rafters for the patio roof, when, after nailing in a board, I realized I had trapped myself in a tiny space between rafters, with the ladder just far enough away that I couldn’t lower myself thru the tiny space to step onto the ladder. And yeah, for once, no one was around, even if they could help me. And that board was in for the ages, having been nailed in with a power tool called a framing nailer with an enthusiastic number of nails.
With the hot Missouri sun beating down on me, I sat on the bond beam eight feet in the air and contemplated solutions. Middle school gymnastic moves flashed in my head, along with a feeling in my gut from every time someone had implied or outright said that I was too old to be climbing ladders and working up high, or doing anything physically hard for that matter. It was a combo of a gymnastic move and confidence from strength training three times a week that got me out. I had a good chuckle over it, then returned to putting the next board up.
My answer to the question of how to make something happen in your life is this: go ahead and do that thing that really sparkles for you, that juicy idea that won’t leave you alone. Don’t focus on the outcome, or fear, or mistakes, and more on each next step. Move to an ecovillage, or raise goats, or start a business. Those personal qualities that you think you lack will emerge or develop in real time, as you go. And at regular intervals, look at where you’re going and the big picture so you can adjust. Like steering a boat into a slip.
Curious how to build your own backyard cob oven? Wondering how simple materials like clay, sand, and straw can turn into beautiful, functional, wood-fired ovens?
Join us August 15–17, 2025, at Dancing Rabbit Ecovillage for a hands-on cob oven workshop with experienced natural builder Alis (Kyle) Yoder.
Over this immersive weekend, you’ll:
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Gain confidence building with natural materials
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Build a long-lasting, efficient oven dome
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Learn how to apply natural plasters for protection and beauty
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Get creative with mosaics and sculptural details
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Collaborate with a supportive group of learners
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Explore natural buildings at Dancing Rabbit Ecovillage
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Deepen your skills in sustainable, earth-friendly living
No experience is required—just bring your curiosity and a willingness to get your hands (and feet!) a little muddy.
Currently $100 off
Spots are limited — register now: https://www.dancingrabbit.org/
Or, click here to learn more
We hope to see you here!
Liz Hackney is the editor and a contributing writer for this publication. For a detailed look at her straw bale building project, go to: thehubcollective.substack.com.