“Miracles occur naturally as expressions of love. The real miracle is the love that inspires them. In this sense everything that comes from love is a miracle.”
A Course in Miracles
“How sad to think that nature speaks and mankind doesn’t listen.”
Victor Hugo 1840
Almost three decades on and the last time I saw Michael before he passed on in 2010, we spoke of the increasing madness occurring in the world and the almost impossible task of seeing any real collective change in human consciousness. I spoke of Peter always affirming that in order to be effective it was necessary to focus on the positive aspects and how difficult I found this lately, often falling into despair, a sense of helplessness, seeing only the ‘death’ rather than the ‘birth’. Recently I read somewhere – “gaze into the abyss for long enough and the abyss will gaze back at you” – which is just what I’d been doing and I told Michael how I and many people I know were anguishing over the transgressions perpetuated against the environment, wild life, oceans. The rapacious greed, ignorance, escalating warfare and human suffering and I heard myself say “I’m losing faith in humanity and the sense that there’s a way out of this mess, it all seems to be darkness and descent and I haven’t even mentioned climate change!” He said, “You make it sound like you’re not part of humanity but somehow above it, an observer”. I admit a weakness for transcending! (my generation?) Then he said, “What if that is the case and we don’t have much time or choice in the matter, we’d better make the most of everything by living each day to the full in the most loving caring passionate way we can”.
When I fluctuate between ascent and descent I recall his words, they bring a sense of immediacy into my life, a sense of hope and gratitude that there is still time. Many people are finding heart and a new way forward. We will seldom read about it in the papers or hear it on the news, sadly the intent still to gaze into the ‘abyss’ yet there are many positive changes occurring as people worldwide take up the banner of peaceful sacred activism, usually working together in small groups, a spirit of family, of community. Often it means breaking open our hearts as we acknowledge the damage and work together to create small radical shifts.
It wasn’t until I’d gone back to college as a mature student, to discover what I had missed in my youth, that I became more aware about the reality of climate change. I was taking a degree in Fine Art and chose as my “elective”, climate change. It was only a three month intensive yet its effect on me was so overwhelming as to invalidate the degree course, highlighting the superficial era we had entered concerning the art world with its emphasis on intellectualising through ‘conceptual art’ and as one tutor so succinctly put it, “training artists for the world of industry”; it was slowly dawning on me that the heart was being driven out of art.
Our climate change tutor often appeared to be having a series of nervous breakdowns as new distressing information became available from reliable scientific sources and there were times I thought he would break down in tears – which is often how I felt in those sessions as I learned about the fragility of our world and its possible tipping points, the consequences of melting permafrost, disappearing glaciers, compromised habitats and much more – the outcomes now irrefutable, of continued burning of fossil fuel, millions of tons on a daily basis across the globe, increasing exponentially since China and India joined the free market – how it was trapping heat in the atmosphere, the notorious greenhouse gasses. I learned how all this would continue to impact on our world, the creatures in it, us, and all that sustains us; the warming of the oceans and rivers, the loss of aquatic species, this delicate symbiosis that can only exist within a narrow band of benevolent nurture; a shift to a warmer world, spelling extinction – and this, right across the planet creating turbulence and change in every latitude where life exists; the biblical prophecies of flood famine and pestilence were coming alive in my workbooks!
There was much research into “mitigation” some of it good ideas, but mostly far-fetched quangos concerning geoengineering. Best of all and our only hope from – what I could see – was to replace fossil fuels with clean energy, solar, wind, water and tide as well as ‘greening’ the economy by providing millions of jobs worldwide in clean progressive industries; greening our cities, reforesting worldwide to provide carbon sinks now that our oceans were becoming acidic from absorbing so much CO2, the moving away from our entrenched economies based on the extraction, plunder and pollution of nature. This gave me and my fellow students on the course hope, seeing a remedy knowing there was still time. This was twenty years ago and the only real change, it seems, is the massive increase in emissions, a lack of effective strategy at government level and little apparent co-operation between nations at climate change summits.
Simone Madonna of the Whales
Still a bit of a Pollyanna, the naïve idealist in me was brought up short recently when reading the cover article in the Guardian newspaper (its week long exploration into ‘Climate Change’). Brave words by Naomi Klein, journalist, writer and earth lover extraordinaire, a climate change activist for many decades. I had to confront any idea of a bumbling but benevolent big brother government, ‘looking out’ for the wellbeing of the planet and all who reside thereon. Reading Naomi’s words it became clear that vested interests involving oil gas and coal worth trillions of pounds and dollars is what rules the day and government policies; according to her, one percent of the world’s mega wealthy hold the power and all of life to ransom – it seems; they are also the climate deniers and our governments are funded to some degree by these giant fossil fuel corporations, which is why apparently, they are unable and unwilling to challenge their power and stem this madness.
When we see ourselves as part of the web of life – not separate, or dominant or as an effect – but as caring stewards, we are halfway there to bring about the transformation that is needed, from a corporate world driven by greed, denial and corruption to a co-operative world based on interdependence, mutuality and new innovation – a transformation from greed to need. The resources and technology are already available; more progressive countries are halfway to replacing dirty energy with clean energy. What is needed now (and according to sources researched by Naomi Klein in her book, “This Changes Everything” there is only a small window of time left before CO2 ‘locks in’ with every potential of runaway climate change) is determination and intention to make a U-turn; as well as much good will and inspiration to turn all this around. ‘It’ needs to involve all of us, every nation and colour of the rainbow, a Marshall Plan akin to preparing for a third world war, except of course it’s a world reparation and the only war we need to wage is on our own denial and complacency.
Naomi Klein’s view is that the changes have to come from the bottom up as governments show little sign of challenging the elite; not through revolution – as such – but with resistance, certainly to further extraction and it’s become more seemingly desperate, dirtier more intrusive and damaging to the environment and human life, water, air, earth, fracking, coal tar sands, what next when it’s possible to end this insanity, the entrenched profit makers refusing to budge willingly, knowing – as they must on some level, that their assets need to remain in the ground, under the seas, forests, deserts, mountains, if our climate is to stabilise.
One energy source available and free from the consequences of irreversible climate breakdown is nuclear. Small scale, new generation reactors, endorsed by visionary climate scientist James Lovelock, who saw how nuclear power could, in the interim, provide a way out of our present dilemma, the imminent danger to our civilisation, our way of life.
Some scientists speculate the possibility of this century being our last; with life as we know it. Already, finely balanced tipping points within earths systems are approaching breakdown, due to the overheating of the atmosphere, while our governments still pursue business as usual. (Important reading for nuclear energy sceptics is James Lovelock’s ‘Revenge of Gaia’).
Living close to nature it’s easy to see the changes in weather patterns, especially as I have lived almost forty years in this place knowing its seasons and variables its storms and heatwaves, high seas and wind patterns. I’ve seen the shifts over the decades since seasons were more predictable; winter snow arriving in December, snow settling for long periods, spring warmth and warmer winds in March, westerlies being the prevailing winds, north winds a rarity in summer months, but all of that has changed; we now have Baltic springs where easterly air flows blow icy winds for weeks; relentless gales too from the south east and north west and people speak of the jet stream getting stuck! (What does that mean?).
Recent research tells us, the jet stream winds encircling the North pole are being affected by the speed at which the arctic ice is melting. This effects global weather patterns, particularly the movement and duration of changing weather systems. Research also shows, the melting of the Greenland ice sheet can destabilise the effects of the Gulfstream; the warming ocean circulation (meridional overturning circulation, MOC) that regulates our temperate weather systems. With the increased melting – overtime, consequences for Northern Europe’s climate, and beyond, would be significant and possibly catastrophic.
I have friends who love this area but had to move away, unable to live with the offshore winds anymore that have seen a massive increase in ferocity over the past two decades.
Summer and it is mostly impossible to plan a swim or a picnic for the following day, the weather is unpredictable; suddenly for a day or two winds from Southern Spain can arrive then an enormous storm force depression moves in from the North Atlantic, (these more frequent now) the temperature drops sharply the sky becomes leaden for days as gales flatten the summer blooms and blow over the garden furniture; the Moray Firth becomes huge and dangerous and people have drowned; the coastline changes, the ancient sand dunes erode and crumble away with the storm force waves as the tide line grows higher.
Autumn can last into December, snow can be scant in winter at low levels, temperatures have dipped to minus twenty in the past decade and trees have ‘greened’ as late as June rather than April/May. Floods of course have become a common occurrence across this land bringing land slips, crop loss and misery to many. Towns and cities where I live are creating flood defence schemes, blighting the landscape with ugly causeways and man-made topography costing millions of pounds.
Since the more extreme weather my garden has lost some of its wildlife; the tiny pipistrelles (bats) that flew in summertime at dusk, whistling around the roofs, gone; the hedgehogs have vanished as well as the small frogs; I may still have the large toad that lived under the decking. I rarely glimpse a rabbit in the area where before they were a daily sight nor do I see deer and they were regular visitors to my neighbourhood, delicately nipping the buds from early spring flowers but there’s been a lot of new builds on what was their land. The honey bee is not so evident or plentiful, visible in late June, no longer in March/April; there are no more sightings of the small lizards that once inhabited the dunes and it’s been decades since I heard a grass hopper in these parts. Butterflies are no longer so common or so diverse and neither are moths, the golden creamy moths and the big black scary ones that would fly into the house to flap around the lights in autumn have completely vanished for four years now and all these tiny creatures are only the ones I am familiar with, who knows what else has died out or left this area, hopefully to exist elsewhere depending on their resilience.
I rarely see ladybirds in summer or damsel flies, dragonflies and stick insects; they all seemed to be thriving on our arrival here in the ’70s. All this change in one area and we who love nature will all have our stories and if I focus on it the future can look bleak indeed when I acknowledge that the severity of challenging weather conditions are outweighing what has been a blessed and benevolent presence in my life, in most all of our lives – in this temperate zone.
Today the wind is gusting scarily at seventy miles an hour around my house. The sudden shift from icy easterly air flow and temperatures below five degrees to temperatures in double figures and warm air flow from the south results in this extreme turbulence and all this happening within the past twelve hours. These extreme changes can only increase, becoming even more dramatic as the world’s climate becomes increasingly hostile with the continued burning of fossil fuels warming the atmosphere.
Paul Hawken in his book “Blessed Unrest” calculated there are between one and two million organisations across the planet working toward ecological sustainability and social justice; a groundswell of grass roots movements, small vulnerable, needing our recognition and support but finding a voice at last.
Andrew Harvey has written in depth on the subject of ‘sacred activism’ in his book “The Hope”, offering inspiration, ideas and the tools for change. The wisdom is out there and within us, there is a strong network, the birthing is taking place, though there is no room for complacency, it requires all of us; this collective dark night we are witnessing in the world is our ‘wakeup call’ and as we open ourselves to this magnitude – as we must – we will enter into a new consciousness where grace prevails.
End Words (2018)
Michael and Susie created a good life for themselves in New York with Ruby, who opted to return to Scotland to be with me and Amber when she was sixteen. They also provided an exciting holiday destination for Ruby and Amber during the thirty years of their happy marriage.
I learned a lot about the country I lived in, I would discover more than I wanted to know about alcoholism – Scotland’s nemesis – as well as experiencing episodes of drug addiction; not mine, but those I love; endemic it seems to our ‘ailing’ culture where many seek to lose themselves before they can – hopefully! find their souls. All this I learned in the environs of Glasgow, Edinburgh, the Trossachs, the small town of Forres and the village of Findhorn. The communities I lived in and this land I love has given me so much and I live a life of daily gratitude.
The community, now the Findhorn Foundation, weathered many storms and has prospered and matured into a diverse and interesting place where many people from across the world, still come to learn about themselves, intentional community, service, sustainable living and the issues and challenges affecting us all.
Michael and I remained good friends and he never lost his love of Scotland, making several visits over the years. He experienced a profound epiphany in his early sixties, awakening to a life of real ascetism; he wrote two slender, powerful volumes on the subject of transformation and spirituality and became a full-time painter of extraordinary art. I’m pleased to say how later, my girlhood friend Salsa and I were in communication and her son went to visit Michael – his father – in New York. Sadly, we lost Michael in 2010. I always expected him to write ‘our story’, the addiction and our miraculous escape. He, after all, was ‘the writer’. It was this that inspired me to write this book that seemed to grow accidentally and with the help and support of the angels.
Eulogy to the Seventies
Finally! I wrote the following ‘prose’ “Eulogy to the Seventies” in the last week of 1979. I had only a superficial hand in it as it wrote itself with such force and passion; it seems a fitting ending.
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You came very quietly … on the wake of flower-powered dreams… we hardly noticed… so exhausted were we from the razzmatazz of the past eclectic “anything goes” decade.
You came very quietly, swaying gently with prayer beads and mantras… “sit downs” and “stand ins” at all the major yokel vocal city squares… you catapulted us out of the swinging metallic space age glam glam psychedelic … seedy … buzzing “burn the institution” 60’s into a gentler rhythm…
And we who were beginning to see … turned on at last to a more transcendent view of the human dilemma…
Phenomena of every kind were brought out into the clear light of day and … looked at … talked about… played with … and altogether given credence…
Those early years saw us racing back to nature with a vengeance… sensing an urgency in the air … in our hearts and minds … a wish to plunge ourselves into wholesomeness … hands in the soil … we felt a burning need to recapture our purity … we were appalled by our city jaded complexions … our inert inner posturing of manipulation and contrivance … making our vows of abstinence and self-discipline, we jogged and swam … prayed and ran … seeking new frontiers … new definitions of self … free of definitives … seeking a cleaner breath in our young pastoral dreams of rural self-sufficiency.
We were angry and indignant at our past testimonies of ignorance … in squandered energy resources … pollution … and dying species, as we beheld our beloved earth from a different perspective … a small precious jewel of miraculous interrelated biospheric dependency … we made then … a belated covenant … to cherish her …
And as we spun our yarn … built our A-frames … om mani padmi hummed … baked our whole wheat bread … turned to the East … astral travelled … raised our children on sugarless diets … talked of God … Christ … Buddha … Krishna … purpose … and aspiration … without embarrassment, we felt … in your quiet swaying incense perfumed presence … the license to at last expose our divinity … our simplicity … our ardour for wakefulness…
Life styles changed radically as we dropped out … laid back … tuned in turned off … no longer rebelling against the old straight and predictably narrow path … we created a new milieu that fostered our orphaned creativity and growth … nurturing the refinement of our long overlooked sensitivities with a refreshing West Coast hedonism … we o.d.’d joyously on our new-found appetites … to change everything … within easy reach … free at last from millennia old crusading fervour to change the world … we humbly worked on ourselves … humming our way effortlessly through “The Lazy Man’s Guide to Enlightenment” … happily birthing the great new emerging growth movement … protégé of the ’70’s…
Then suddenly commensurate with the ants … we turned our sights to collaborative collusions … in collective … co-operative … co-existent community living! We flocked in thousands … to brotherhoods … and sisterhoods of the spirit … seeking to claim our roots … our part of a wholeness … aboriginal soul intent inspired us to burn our bridges … forsake our safe secure havens within the social systems that we had half-heartedly … broken-heartedly attempted to regenerate … we returned … joyously to the clan … spiritual homecomings to the tribe … the family … we came … human ants … to build a new sense of connectedness…
And as you breathed a compassionate sigh for our naïve attempts to discover our paths … there fell about our ears defamations … from the pundits of our misunderstood motives … cop-outs … cranks … escapists … idealists … fools … rang in our ears … as we left our mates … our schools … jobs … fathers, mothers, countries … the old … tried and true … methods of self-abnegation … yet even in those bitter hours of leave-taking … there was no doubt in our hearts … that you were at the helm … blowing us relentlessly toward irrevocable beginnings …
You breathed new life into us … new vision … replacing our desolate symbols of pop art … sterile futurism … post mortem nihilism … with warm symbols of relatedness … a return to authenticity … aliveness …
A new image of super deluxe male … female androgynes emerged in our literature … our media … our glossy magazines … as desirable … marketable products … well-versed in open marriage … and unisex clothing … go-getting first world culture … candid independent innovators of get set … jet set … press the recline button … life styles … centred in natural foods … yoga … meditation and the joys of sex … cosmic lotus eaters … feeding our pre-conditioned palates … with exotic fantasy foods…
And as our folk heroes became increasingly heroic … inspired and pleased at attaining levels of technologically improved excellence … we blissed out with headsets … quadraphonic sounds … we joined in the new orgy of sensorial participation … multi-media pageants of rock operas … space odysseys … theatrical requiems … awaking us to the prodigy of our time … and walking home … under the moon … whistling Star Wars … engrossed in future fantasies made real by spectacular screen-play … we close-encountered a new artistry in seeing our inner depths on screen and billboard … the real and the superficial … the collective stream of consciousness was unzipping its fly … the media had grown wings … and clumsily … awkwardly … a modern-day dodo … we watched it take its first faltering flight toward global inter-communication.
The planet shrank as our airways became sky trains … frontiers diminished as planetary citizenhood reached out in an expansive handshake … differences diminished as spirit came forth to congratulate itself for being recognised by all who could see…
Yes … you came quietly, swaying on the winds of change … bringing us to a threshold where we stand poised … as we witness the birth tremors of a world in labour … a world that knows fear … fear of scarcity … fear of a technology that threatens to replace human skill and artistry with silicon chips … fear of a science that has the power to replace everything … the power to pry into life’s holy genetic secrets … to create a new species of laboratory-conceived humanity … forsaking the womb … (the ultimate in patriarchal achievement). A world that knows the reality of war … of terrorism … a world that knows fear of … plutonium … radiation … starvation … annihilation…
We witness the human race standing in its own shadow … and as we assume responsibility .. and a willingness to face the light of self-knowledge … fear evaporates … and purified of despair … knowing now that only optimism and expectancy can win through … we know at last … the privilege of being co-creators .. with God…
You have brought us a long way to our arrival at the beginning … and looking about us we may recognize it for the first time … and in so doing … you charge us to put aside our formulas … our doctrine of indebtedness to life … to lay down our techniques for change and growth … to discard the significance we attach to self … ideals … vision … world … and forsaking our obsessions to be good … to be servers … to be anything … we acknowledge simply … that we are … and we stand … or kneel …. naked … knowing that nothing is new … under the sun … you have reminded us that it’s all been said … it’s all been done … our only course of action … is to act … according to our course … flowing from our source … trusting in the force…
We salute you … magnificent ’70s … may the force … be with us.
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About the photos: Many individuals were involved in the performing arts during the 1970s at Findhorn. Much of the work was well documented by seriously talented photographers. As I only have access to my own album of the ’70s, many of the images above are of a more personal nature, and sadly I don’t know whom to credit for the photos.
A big Thank You to my grandson Ziggy for enhancing the appearance of many of my somewhat battered and ancient photos from the’70s.
I live very simply in this land I love. On returning to the area with my daughter Jade, I found joy in volunteering in the life of the Community; until Covid, then everything changed.
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