Findhorn: I want one

I went to Findhorn!  After all thirty odd years of telling the story of Peter Caddy’s greenhouse, I have finally visited Findhorn in the flesh.  It’s wonderful, and I want one.

    The original garden that grew the enormous vegetables, and the old caravan where Eileen and Peter Caddy and Dorothy McLean lived after the voices told Eileen to tow the caravan there, are just where they were.  I imagined the plants ‘grown in sand’ to have been planted in random beds in the sand dunes next to the sea.  But of course it wasn’t like that.  They made a normal garden outside their home.  Now it is at the heart of the established Findhorn Foundation’s site, surrounded by other Findhorn community projects, like the eco-village, the Universal Hall, mature and well-tended gardens and several eco-housing developments.  It is 51 years ago the Caddys moved on – and the atmosphere must be very different from the bleak caravan park next to a military airfield.  I can’t help wondering what might have happened if the same had been allowed to happen at Molesworth.

I’m not a great spiritual, god-type person, but I do believe in things like ‘ being in the right place at the right time’, ‘luck’ (which relies on having created good karma), ‘doing the right thing’, i.e. following your own path ( a PC version of Aleister Crowley’s Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the Law’) rather than being a supercilious goody-doody, the waters parting and everything being easy when you are doing the right thing, and people and resources turning up when you need them.  The Findhorn founders were guided very specifically by the voices that Eileen heard, telling them on a very practical level what they should do, build, buy, etc.  Largely things manifested as they needed them, but Peter Caddy couldn’t understand why he hadn’t got a greenhouse.  They needed a greenhouse, and normally everything arrived fairly swiftly.  So he was racking his brains wondering why no greenhouse had manifested.  Then he realised he hadn’t been specific enough.  Once he decided the materials, size, dimensions etc, it appeared within a week.  (Told in The Magic of Findhorn by Paul Hawken, Fontana 1976).
I’d really love to hear voices. I did hear one once.  I won’t go into that now, but interestingly (or boringly) the voice only told me the most obvious thing that I really should have been able to work out for myself.  But the idea of hearing voices telling me where to park the van (say) or which veg to plant where, would be so handy.  So I’m listening out…

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