My parents first went to Findhorn together as part of the guest programme in 1980/81. They would have heard about the community through the UK ‘New Age’ network and in the early 1960’s they lived at Coombe Springs, Whatcombe House and briefly Dartington Hall. There is a recent book called ‘Utopians’ by Anna Niema which case studies six communes worldwide, set up in the 1920’s. It details the founding principles and the pitfalls of such high ambitions (following the aftermath of WW1) and has been a great insight into my own parents lives and perhaps their personal reasons for moving to Findhorn. I have since written to the author who was keen to learn how it was growing up in a spiritual commune. So here goes….

My brother and sisters started to leave our Oxfordshire home in 1978, leaving me with two disillusioned parents I hardly knew in a big house they had bought to raise children. My parents and I went to Findhorn about 1981. They were doing the ‘members month’ (whatever that was) and I was mostly hanging out with my new friend Damien at Cluny, messing about and having a laugh. After some difficulties selling our Oxfordshire home during the recession of 80/81 my parents and I moved into a bungalow on Pineridge that they had bought with a bridging loan. In one fell swoop (or dash up the motorway in a Renault car with my cat) I had gone seamlessly from an ‘only’ child to a commune brim full of ‘brothers and sisters’, ‘parents and grandparents’ and opportunities and experiences so abundant and available it was like another world.

Community kids (or ‘Caddies’ as we were called) often got a hard time at the school in Forres but I fitted in with it all with ease. I had school friends, local friends, community friends, adults who were more like friends…and my parents, who were somehow just slowly fading into the background of my teenage life. Great thing about memory of course is that we can edit it to fit our world view. My own seemed to be that I had to look after myself, emotionally and physically and that I am and have always been independent of thought and action. Findhorn was a great breeding ground for me. I could be myself, in different ways (teenager, remember) with different people in a safe explorative environment. I was surrounded by caring adults who encouraged me, gave me responsibility and taught by example (love in action). If you were a school friend and had asked me what I did over the school summer holidays in the early 1980’s I might have said…

“Learnt how to use a chainsaw, throw pots, windsurf, cook, brew beer, kayak, drive a tractor and make candles…how about you ?”

The other significant thing happening at this time was that I was looking after kids. Me more than anyone else. I lived at the Park with all the ‘young’ parents who were attending meetings and courses and generally doing what adults do. I looked after kids (almost all of them at The Park at some point in the early 1980’s) during the day not just in the evenings. It was all a lot of fun, and safe and just this one massive loving family.

Significant adults (in no particular order) at this time were Ike/Maggie, Loren/Mari, Jonathan/Judy, Karen/Jonathan, Craig/ Gay, Liza/Lyle and Debbie/James. To this day (I am now 56) I consider these people and many more besides my ‘other’ family. My childhood and teenage years were very different from my sisters and brother. I and the other teenagers at the time had this amazing world laid out in front of us (literally the other side of the street) and it was being gently and lovingly managed (we had no idea how exactly) by adults who gave us freedom to explore, without the control and conditioning passed on from previous generations. I have since read books about AS Neill and others about allowing children to find their own learning.

Mostly, of course, we took all this for granted. This is what teenagers are supposed to do…or do, do. Some of the lack of emotional support from our actual biological parents left some scars. For some, massive gaping holes that were filled with other things. However, time passes. Scars have healed, connections made, dots joined up and looking back is easier, more pleasant, more significant.

I believe living at Findhorn was the most significant part of my life. My parents gave me the freedom but without the opportunity and the encouragement I was blessed to experience in the safety of the community. In my 20’s I never spoke about Findhorn. It was an unresolved part of my life I had not come to terms with. Today I tell people about it all the time. I am proud of the fact I lived there amongst Californians and Europeans. I am the most sociable person I know….and I care. I care about the disjointed world around me, I care about my crazy addicted neighbour, I care about the street outside my house, I care about the standard of work that I do. I am empathic, compassionate, sensitive, reasonable and hard working.

Who we are, how we feel, how we behave and respond, what we believe (rightly or wrongly) is a complex, fluid melting pot. I am grateful for those early life lessons I picked up at Findhorn. They have served me well, despite it all.

Unofficial youth programme which was organised by Liza Schnadt (with Jeff here).


On the way to Erraid


With Jessica and Nicole in Edinburgh