Editor’s Note: This post by Katie Lloyd was previously published as a chapter in the book Growing People, compiled and edited by Kay Kay, published by Pilgrims Guide, 2001.

I first encountered the Isle of Erraid in February 1990 on a one-week visit. I felt at home immediately, resonating with the bright, rough rocky land and salty wind. Childhood experiences of annual Irish holidays, a year on Malta and three years near Dartmoor, had instilled in me a cellular understanding and love of granite, shore, transparent sea and changing light.

At the time of this first visit I was near the end of a 10-year sojourn in landlocked Midwestern USA, so I was hungry and thirsty for this landscape. My inner being, however, had an even stronger appetite for what the Findhorn Foundation’s spiritual school had to offer, so I spent 5 years there, going through a period of exhilarating (some times painful) transformation, discovering what was ‘mine’ and what was motivated by my perception of other people’s expectations. It became clear that Motherhood was my Holy Grail.

A single man arrived (they occasionally do!), also looking for a relationship and I latched on to him. We struggled to find a way together on-off-on-off for about a year and a half. We got (accidentally or unconsciously) pregnant. Shock! Hallelujah! My woman hood suddenly made sense to me, at 40. Eleven weeks along, I miscarried. Such sadness. I experienced the terror of death and loss as my tenderest dream was wrenched from me. At the same time, I was utterly blessed by the care and support of my friends and community and could create the space I needed to integrate what had happened.

Later, my man and I took a week off to go to Erraid to ponder whether our relationship was strong enough to embrace parent hood consciously. Within two days of arriving I knew I had to extend my stay by another week. The next day a special prayer circle was held at Full Moon. I prayed to live my deepest dream, NOW!”. The day after that, clambering alone on the heather hills, I heard, felt or knew this: “I could live on Erraid.” Next thought: “What a privilege!”

Dave seemed amused or bemused by this but had no particular reaction. We parted at the end of the week with no conclusions drawn and he returned to our home in The Park at Findhorn. So I let it sit, gently, though I told one friend on the island of my inspiration to live there.

The following week, I was on my way to Iona for the day, thinking things over. At the time I often used the DMA technique of ‘Creating Your Own Reality’, by stating personal choices as a first step in making positive changes. That day my heartfelt choices were: I choose to play guitar, I choose to live on Erraid and I choose to make a commitment to Dave. Whoosh! The last one had a lot of energy! That afternoon the February weather changed suddenly and a storm blew up. I became stranded on Iona. In the evening on our telephone date, my boyfriend declared his decision to call a halt to the relationship. My world imploded. Alone, I spent a desolate and panic-stricken night holding on to life and sanity by praying and trying to breathe.

The next day dawned ludicrously calm and bright. I got home to Erraid feeling as fragile as paper. I fell weeping on a friend. He said, with his wonderful clarity, “Katie, it sounds funny to say this now, but I can’t believe the timing. You’re free to live on Erraid!” In the blur of grief I could acknowledge that Spirit in its most Shiva-like ferocity had flung wide the door of my life and blasted me to the threshold of a new path forward. I had asked for my (soul’s) deepest dream to be realised and here it was, apparently—NOW!

I was living on Erraid three months later, having substantially completed the former relationship and travelling light. I hadn’t lost everything—I had health, sanity, wealth, direction and a fundamental trust in Life. But I was liberated from the Dream that had haunted me for so long and so intensely. Sitting on the high point of Erraid the day I arrived, I heard, felt or knew that I was on the island “to give, to love and to serve.” What are these qualities if not those of Motherhood? Circumstances, or Spirit, had forced me to surrender utterly to a greater wisdom and in doing so I effortlessly entered the stream of service within the Angel of Findhorn, within Life. Formerly service had always sounded servile or grandiose to me, but now this energy guides me constantly: to do the accounts when boating and gardening were my love, to learn to milk the cows, though I was truly scared of animals of any size; ultimately to focalise the community, shouldering real responsibility for the first time in my life and learning to stand tall but flexible in my truth.

The experience of Erraid has many aspects in common with pilgrimage. Those who are drawn to live here are seeking a powerful, transforming experience, opening to the unknown. We don’t move through space as you would on a journey towards a sacred place, but there is a measure of deprivation in the rugged lifestyle, simple food, limited privacy and absence of distractions. We are in a way trapped together, our Master is the island, the elements and the community. We receive tough lessons via personality clashes or elemental extremes. This one-stop pilgrimage is purifying and enlightening.

There’s no back seat on Erraid, so it’s impossible to stay on the island without being fully present and committed. I feel quite strongly that in our situation, personal needs must always be considered in the light of community needs and, if necessary, take second place. I feel blessed that this has flowed for me during my four or so years on the island, and yet now I sense the door marked ‘EXIT’ subtly opening. Why now? It’s a sense that I have learned the major lessons Erraid can teach me, that I have given everything I could and that it’s time to step aside and let others shape and be shaped by this magical place. If you had asked me to leave any earlier I would have thrown a major tantrum, but now I’m fulfilled and ready to open to new horizons.

The gifts I take with me are: a commitment to serving the planet by living lightly and close to the Earth, more self-confidence, deeper self-knowledge and acceptance of my limitations, broader under standing and tolerance towards others, better listening, respect for animals, scores of practical and group skills, more joy in simple things, hope, inner peace and—hey! guess what?—a really nourishing partnership! I might have learned all these things at the Mothership of Findhorn but it was at her precious offshoot that I met the Angel in all its glory, for which I am, of course, endlessly grateful.