In 2022 my friend Marcus invited me to reminisce about how I came to the Findhorn Foundation and about my first few years as staff. You can listen to the full conversation in the videos.

How did I get here? In 1978, my notes tell me. I came up from London a few times that year.

Initially I came for Experience Week at Cluny, I felt like a fish out of water from the moment I arrived. Here I was, a city slicker in worn jeans, surrounded by folks in flowing robes and sandals. Meditation in a silent sanctuary? Hugging strangers? It all felt a tad…strange.  They even handed me sharp tools during a shift in the Maintenance Department that could double as weapons for the first day’s “loving service”. Seriously?

But then there was the dance. Sacred dance, they called it. A mishmash of folk dances from all over the world, with everyone moving together, a tapestry of cultures and bodies. At first, I felt like two left feet with a bad case of stage fright. But slowly, something clicked. The rhythm of the drums, the smiles on faces around me … it all washed over me. I wouldn’t have believed then that I would become a Sacred Dance teacher before too long.

There was a raw honesty in Cluny. People came from all walks of life, each with their own baggage. Yet, there was a shared sense of purpose, a connection built on something deeper than words. By the end of the week, I wasn’t just comfortable, I was hooked. Who knew a city boy like me could find solace in dirt and drums?

That week at Cluny wasn’t just a vacation, it was a turning point. Cluny may have been a world away from my old life, but in a strange way, it felt more like home. And I soon came back for more.

When I first arrived at the Findhorn Foundation, it was a real eye-opener. It felt like stepping into a time capsule, a gathering of hippies seeking an escape from the “normal” world. People from all over, with wildly different backgrounds, were drawn to this idealistic vision of a simpler life. I, a computer manager from a conventional background, was definitely out of my element.

We stayed at Cluny, a rambling old hotel that had been transformed into a workshop centre. I remember these “new age games” we played in the ballroom, and honestly, I thought it was a bit much. But, by the end, everyone was laughing and hugging, and I had to admit, it did create a real sense of connection.

Eileen Caddy, one of the founders, would come and share her spiritual perspectives. She spoke of her “still small voice within,” and while it sounded a bit “woo-woo” to my logical mind, I couldn’t deny the purity and power of her presence. Peter Caddy, on the other hand, seemed more focused on the Foundation’s image, seeking connections with influential people. Dorothy, the third founder, kept largely to herself, working with the plants.

I was also deeply impressed by David Spangler, who I met only later when he came back for visits. He was incredibly inspiring and funny. He, like Eileen, felt like a true founder to me. David’s teachings on manifestation really resonated with me. It became one of the subjects I taught a lot, in presentations and workshops. I even wrote a booklet called Manifestation-Creating.

I went through the Foundation’s programs, from Experience Week to becoming a student member, and eventually staff. I ended up in the Transport Department, managing a fleet of old buses. It was a chaotic job, but I quickly took charge, prioritizing safety and efficiency. It was a strange journey, from computer manager to bus driver in a hippie commune, but it was my journey.

One of my joys was being the driver for Eileen Caddy on a three week book tour to many places in the UK, including a stopover at my mother’s, to break the journey on the way back to Scotland.

Life at Cluny meant communal living. We all took turns cooking on Sundays, which was…interesting. We also did KP (kitchen patrol, after dinner clean-up) once a week. It was pretty flexible; if family visited, they could help or we could trade shifts.

Eventually, I got my own small room, a bit of privacy.

Having my car was key, too, giving me some much-needed independence. The place was great, but it could get suffocating. I needed to escape sometimes.

As for romance, well, let’s just say there was plenty of “tiptoeing” and “moving around”. I definitely had my share of partners in the community.

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I want to thank Marcus Lindner for interviewing me in 2022. This allowed me to reflect on the many aspects of my almost 50 years in the community. I have been in many different positions in the Findhorn Foundation, often in leadership roles. We have collated four posts from those interviews:

And last but not least, you can see me in action in my last role, as the focaliser of the Visitor Centre. Click here for recordings of a Tour of the Park I gave in 2008.