Early days in The Sanctuary
Synchronistically, I am writing this story on the day that the site of the original sanctuary is being cleared and prepared for building the new. However, the first time I entered the Sanctuary the building
Change taking place in the community 1974
Angus Marland wrote in September 1974:- A project has been started that is the physical manifestation of a great change taking place in the community. Together we realise that we are entering a new spiral
From Findhorn Village to Findhorn Foundation
[Any quotes are from my memory over forty-five years, and my not verbatim. They are not from any community literature] In 1974, living on-shore in Findhorn Village while working off-shore on a North Sea oil
My Findhorn Journey
My Findhorn Journey In 1970, after finishing university in California, I traveled to London and was drawn to visit the north of Scotland. But as I did not have contacts there at the time, the
Fred Barton
By Peter Please from his book Holine-A British Journey: Bulletins from the Wayside (1997) Fred was a father to me, the first person to call me 'gardener'. In appearance he was the grand gnome, stoutly
Experience Week
Experience Week started in 1974 when there were too many visitors arriving and a more formal introduction to the Community was needed. This introductory programme has been loved by thousands of participants since
Mystical arrival at Findhorn in 1976
In June of 1976 my partner Suzy and I walked barefoot into Findhorn Park Community from the beach at Culbin Sands. We were young twenty somethings; back packers and hitch hikers to the universe Our
My Findhorn story — Growing in Confidence
I'd become interested in intentional communities prior to going to Findhorn. I was part of the Koinonia Foundation community near Baltimore, Maryland, USA, from 1973, and had also visited Twin Oaks, and a Bruderhof community.
Wiring the Universal Hall
“I was only following orders” is my only line of response in light of recent revelations about the wiring in the Hall. Admittedly over forty years have passed, standards changed and wear and tear occurred.
STORM PETREL
Old Willie Dawson, with his puckered cheeks, inch-long bristly eyebrows and his shock of grey hair topped by a battered leather trilby, was the character of the caravan park. He had lived there well before
