THE FIRST FINDHORNIAN I MET

 

A big sigh of relief as I arrived at Inverness airport. I had made it this far. I had no idea how to get to Forres and no pre-booked B&B for the first night. My Experience Week wouldn’t start until the next day, but somewhere inside me I knew all would be very, very well.

Looking around the airport, I saw a man with a big Findhorn sign. When I approached him to ask how to get to Findhorn, he enquired if my name was Petra — my little sister’s name. No, I was not Petra. Then he said, “That’s OK, you can come with me, we’ll just wait for Petra.”

He and his wife offered bed and breakfast that first night, and later in the evening, took Petra and me to a sharing in the Hall. Fabulous and miraculous, how spirit took care of me. This man was Ian Turnbull, the first Findhornian I ever met, who later became a good friend.

Micaela Aminoff