
Hey folks —
I’m 39, I live in the city, and I once planted an entire raised bed with mint. Yeah… I know.
Fast-forward two summers, and I was in a full-on mint mutiny, yanking fistfuls of fragrant invaders while wondering if I could sneak them into yet another pot of tea before my friends and family staged an intervention.
Lesson learned: Nature gives feedback. Loudly, if you ignore her the first time.
Today I want to talk about the 4th permaculture principle: “Apply Self-Regulation and Accept Feedback.” It sounds serious—and honestly, it is—but it’s also deeply practical, surprisingly personal, and totally liberating once you get the hang of it.
🌱 What This Principle Actually Means
At its core, this principle is a two-part invitation:
- Check your own behavior — especially the stuff that might be unsustainable, extractive, or just plain over-the-top.
- Listen when the system (or your neighbor, or your back muscles) tells you something’s not working.
Permaculture isn’t just about designing gardens or food forests—it’s about designing lives that work. And just like ecosystems, our lives need built-in ways to adjust course when things start getting out of whack.
🐜 Nature Already Gets This
Ecosystems are masters of feedback and regulation. Think about it:
- Too many aphids? Here come the ladybugs.
- Too much nitrogen? Certain plants will slow their uptake.
- A tree gets too tall for its root system? It sheds limbs or stops growing.
There’s no “perfection,” just constant responsiveness.
Now imagine applying that mindset to your urban garden—or your daily routine.
🛠️ My Minty Mistake (And Other Human Habits)
Back to that mint bed. The mint was thriving—too much. The feedback was clear: the soil was too rich, the boundaries too loose, and I wasn’t paying attention. But instead of adjusting early, I let it ride until I was knee-deep in spearmint regret.
That’s self-regulation in action—or, in my case, in inaction. The land was telling me something. I just wasn’t listening.
We do the same thing with:
- Overwatering stressed plants
- Ignoring burnout signs in ourselves
- Buying “just one more” garden gadget we don’t actually need
The key is to build systems (and habits) that notice early and course-correct gently.
🧭 So… How Do You Actually Do That?
Here are a few ways I apply this principle as an urban permaculture designer:
1. The Weekly Walkabout
Every Sunday, I do a slow walk through my garden. Not to weed, not to fix—just to observe. What’s thriving? What’s not? Any patterns showing up?
2. The Feedback Journal
Once a week, I jot down what’s working and what’s not—in the garden and in my life. (Spoiler: sometimes it’s “stop agreeing to three Zoom meetings after 7 p.m.”)
3. Use Tools That Talk Back
Install a rain gauge. Use a compost thermometer. Track your energy bills. These little data points whisper truths if you’re willing to listen.
4. Invite Other Eyes
Ask a friend or fellow grower to tour your space and tell you what they notice. It’s humbling—and wildly helpful.
🧠 A Thought Experiment (a.k.a. Homework, But Cool)
Ask yourself:
“What’s one thing in my space—or my habits—that keeps giving me the same feedback over and over?”
Maybe it’s that soggy corner of your yard. Or your overflowing email inbox. Or the cucumbers that never do well in that one shadier spot. (Hint: They’re voting with their leaves.)
Now: what’s one small self-regulation you can make this week?
🌻 Final Thoughts From a Former Mint Wrangler
The beauty of this principle is that it’s not about getting it perfect. It’s about getting better at noticing, and responding with care.
Self-regulation and feedback aren’t punishments—they’re invitations to co-evolve. To be in real-time dialogue with our landscapes, our communities, and our own inner rhythms.
And maybe—just maybe—to leave a little less mint and a little more wisdom behind.
Thanks for reading, permapeeps. If this post sparked something for you, go check out the podcast episode where I unpack all of this (and more) with stories, tips, and a few awkward admissions.
Stay curious. Stay humble. Stay regenerative.
— Heather,
Your urban permaculture pal, aged 39 and still learning as I grow


