(Editor’s note: This post is the result of conversations/correspondence between two long-term guests and Stan in 2010/11.)

The woman who donated the money to the Findhorn Foundation for the purchase of the Park Building and an acre of land there also donated monies for the renovation of the Cluny entranceway/reception area during the renovation work of Cluny, in the winter of ‘75/’76. In exchange, Peter gave her the use (during her periodic visits to the community) of the suite above what is now named the Beechtree Room. That name got its name, and interior decoration, from an experience she had. The story in brief:

One of her interests was painting with water colors, at an easel, in a meditative frame of mind, and to see what she got. She was standing at her easel one of those renovation days, up in her suite, next to her south-facing window, and in a meditative state, felt that the big beech tree outside in front (the one with the swing on it in this day and age) was communicating with her. She got the feeling that it wanted the essence of ‘treeness’ brought into the building, for the benefit of the inhabitants, to feel a connection with the idea of being a tree/in a tree; with roots strongly anchored in the earth, and open to the heavens, and being a conduit between the two ‘realms’. How to do that, she wondered; and hit on the idea of checking to see if it was possible to use tree bark for wallpaper. It turned out to be so; and she paid for the decoration of the building’s biggest meeting room.

Cluny Beechtree Room photo Findhorn Foundation

Cluny Beechtree Room photo Findhorn Foundation

The room used to be completely surrounded in that ‘wallpaper’ that it has, except for the north end, which was left blank for use as a screen. (I think it is in point of fact birch, not beech, because beech wouldn’t hold like birch does; but close enough for the purpose). A few years ago, the wallpaper was showing its tatteredness, and the Renovations committee (in agreement with the Guest Department) were going to lighten up the room by stripping all of it and painting the room white. Shock! Horrors! A disavowal of The Vision! I raised a stink, and a compromise was made, so that just the south end got the new-look treatment, plus the chandeliers, brightening up the lighting in there (it used to have Chinese lantern shades). I give the Guest Dept. credit: They let me come up with a plaque telling the story of the room, which is still there; behind the door, on the notice board. Barely noticeable; but there.

The lady’s name was Pauline Tawse. She was a sort of larger-than-life dowager type, big head of white hair and a loud voice. She would hold court in the Dining Room, commanding attention of all and sundry. Though I was never ‘offended’ by her, some in the Family were. She stopped coming at some point; and at that point, the suite upstairs traditionally became the space of the Cluny Focaliser, or, as in a couple of cases, the focalisers, meaning a couple were in the position.

Actually, that brings up a footnote recollection: One of those couples never got to inherit that space, because the focaliser before them – who was in a relationship – didn’t want to vacate the premises; and especially after he and his partner put some of their own money into its renovation, including installing a kitchenette, and doing a deal with the Foundation to take over the guest room next to it – for the partner’s bedroom – in exchange for paying for a renovation of a bungalow over at the Park (up at Pineridge, along Bungalow Row) to add some guest spaces to it. It caused some unhappiness in the Cluny Family, that I don’t think ever got totally resolved until that couple left the community in the late ’90s. I can report this little anecdote about life at Cluny with a clear conscience, being friends – to this day – with that couple. They actually gave a lot to the Foundation over their time here.