My name is Carolin, and I have been living in Findhorn for the past five years, taking on various roles – from managing the GEN office to organizing musical retreats with community musician Barbara Swetina and many other hats along the way.

Throughout this time, music and my curiosity about what lies beyond the veil have been central to my journey. I’ve been exploring how we can connect with and integrate those deeper, unseen qualities into our lives here in Findhorn.

During the most recent Christmas and New Year’s retreat that I co-organized, I was once again invited to reflect on the unseen realms that profoundly shape our existence. I’ve come to understand how these realms are brought to life through the stories we share – stories that act as bridges between the visible and the invisible.

From this the following idea was born…

During a session, we had in the Original Garden, I felt a clear nudge from these unseen realms to rekindle an idea that began 18 months ago: to create a small book or booklet that captures sacred stories of encounters with the unseen realm. My intention is to launch the first version by the Summer Solstice and bring it to life with a gathering in the Original Garden.

Together, we will share stories from the book(let), interwoven with enchanting music, as we celebrate the garden, the sun, and all its seen and unseen beings.

In the Celebration of the Incredible Human and Non-Human Family, You Are Invited to Contribute:

  1. Share Your Stories:
    Do you have an experience connected to the unseen realms? I am particularly interested in stories related to music, but all experiences are welcome. Please scroll down to the end of the post to see a lovely example written by Mish Crouan.
  2. Share Your Art & Skills:
    If you’re an artist, photographer, or have images that evoke the essence of these unseen connections, your work would beautifully complement the stories. I also welcome editors to help shape the project.
  3. Share Your Vision:
    This booklet is a living, evolving idea. Your input – whether ideas for meditations, interviews, or guidance on connecting with the unseen – will enrich and deepen the project.

This process feels like a co-creation with the unseen, guided by inspiration and collaboration. It holds the potential to craft something beautiful that honours these realms and brings them more to life within our local and global community.

Original Garden and New Sanctuary in December 2024, captured by Dorota Owen

Original Garden and New Sanctuary in December 2024, captured by Dorota Owen

If this speaks to you, I’d love to connect whether through a story, artwork, or simply a conversation, please contact me using this form.

Let’s plant the seed together and grow it into something wondrous by the Summer Solstice.

***

Gnome Story by Mish Crouan

Eighteen months ago my partner, June, and I were allocated a small allotment which we love very much and named ‘Little Gaia.’ We tend Little Gaia according to the founding principles of the community at Findhorn, especially that concerning co-creation with the intelligence of nature and although neither of us could ever be called a singer, we do like to sing to our beloved plot.

One day last summer I was on my hands and knees transplanting some Dwarf French Bean plants from their pots to the raised bed in which they were to continue growing. It was a warm, sunny morning and I was feeling happy and full of gratitude. As I handled each little plant and tucked it into the soil I sang to them one of my favourite songs, ‘Through The Eyes Of Love.’ A few bean plants and verses in and I became aware of a pair of muddy Wellington boots standing on the other side of the vegetable bed.

Looking up as discreetly as I could I saw that the boots were filled by a male figure, about a meter tall, strongly yet softly built and wearing work trousers, shirt and hat. His clothes, like his boots, showed that he had been working with the earth and there was a distinct smudge of soil across his face. I found that I was looking at a gnome and he was looking directly at me. He was listening intently.

Duros, Cullerne drawing by Frances Ripley

Duros, Cullerne drawing by Frances Ripley

I sensed a shyness about the gnome and when I finished the song I asked if he would like me to sing it to him. He did not speak, but as he looked at me big tears formed in his eyes and flowed quietly and steadily as I looked at him and sang,

‘Through the eyes of love
You are perfect.
Through the eyes of love
You are free.
Through the eyes of love
You are innocent.
I am you, and you are me.’

I had the impression that the gnome was so used to humans seeing him and his kind as being silly or demonic that he was overwhelmed to have such a beautiful song sung to him. A song that recognised his true nature and the deep connection between us all.

As I continued singing the song other gnomes began to emerge at points around the bean bed. Two or three more stayed further away amongst the broad beans and calendulas. Drawn to the song and what was happening, they were, understandably, hesitant about trusting the integrity of this human.

I finished singing and planting, the gnomes went back to their work and although I did not see them again until Winter Solstice, when June and I went to sing our gratitude and welcome the return of the light, we are both often aware of their presence in Little Gaia. I am learning many lessons through my time there, including the fundamental one of consciously singing our sacred songs to all beings. They help to heal wounds, build bridges and their messages are relevant to us all, no matter what form we take.