This week, I stepped away from the page to soak in the wild to help silence my writing doubts.
Image by Jackie Morrison: notebook
It was the unexpected moments, that lingered following a visit to Findhorn Eco-Village in Scotland.
We walked past the beach huts strung along the coastal path at Findhorn in the north-east of Scotland on the Moray coast, dunes and grasses to one side, a wide expanse of beach to the other, before following a pathway back out to the road leading to Findhorn Eco-village.
Photo by Jackie Morrison: Beach Huts, West Beach, Findhorn, Scotland
A protected area, the dunes are punctuated by gorse currently full of yellow blooms and small flowering plants clinging to sandy earth. The sea breeze tumbles the scent of pine from the trees and scented rose briar lines the walkway. In a few short kilometres, we’ve left the business of the village behind (if you can call Findhorn village busy!)
My anticipation had been building as we made our way north in our motorhome, twisting along the Moray coastline. If you haven’t heard of Findhorn eco-village before, let me give you the short version.
Findhorn was a community originally built by a few friends with a dream to build a heaven on earth – a spiritual and practical endeavour to live off the land by co-creation with nature. It grew steadily over the decades to become the Findhorn Foundation.
For years, I knew of it as a place of spirituality, education and ecology in action – love in action. It may sound airy-fairy, hippy-ish but Findhorn has always been a place that mixed spirituality and practicality – a unique community that built its own eco-houses years before Grand Designs raised awareness of heat recovery, passive solar power and turf roofs! The first wind turbine at Findhorn Eco Village was erected in 1989 and now three turbines produce on average as much electricity as the village uses.
Findhorn Press even published the UK’s first technical guide to ecological housing.
On arrival, we check in at the shop to buy some items and I’m impressed at the range of goods on display – most of it day to day essentials, eco-friendly toiletries, but also a small selection of books and gift items.
Photo by Jackie Morrison: Entrance to the Phoenix Cafe, Findhorn EcoVillage
After dipping into the tiny Visitor Centre, we make our way up to the Phoenix Café which feels like it was built in the most fitting place. Apparently, the community do dousing and ask the ground questions ahead of building, in order to find the best spots. It is welcoming and we sit beneath the shade of the trees for a while, taking in the atmosphere of the place.
A blackbird jumps down on to the low stone wall, the yellow rings of its eyes and brightness of its beak matching the bright yellow of the tall irises rising from the pond. He sings his heart out to us and I don’t dare interrupt the performance by lifting my phone.
I realise today needn’t be about rushing to take notes. By leaving my mobile in my pocket (except to take a few photos), I can simply soak up the yellow irises, the coastal breeze, and allow space to grow in my head and heart. To quiet my writing doubts. My empty notebook sits in front of me and I leave it closed. No note taking. I trust myself to remember how I feel here in this place. And I create a clearing in my mind - space for the story I know is waiting for me.
Just around the corner is the meeting area, Universal Hall, with its beautiful stained glass. Mr.M has made stained glass items in the past, including windows, so this was of interest to us.
Community members are replacing bunting all around the trees and spot me taking photos.
“If you sit in that spot, you can get a great photo as the stained glass wings will be behind you.” The man says, pointing to the doors.
How lovely! Where else would someone show you the ideal spot for your photo!
Photo by Jackie Morrison: Universal Hall, Findhorn Eco-Village
A short wander away, we discover the Singing Chamber where people gather to do just that. What a beautiful spot made of stone circles and surrounded by trees.
It is a quiet day and many of the buildings are closed or being renovated. We also stroll past the art and craft studios, the weaving studio and Park Pottery founded in the early 1970s.
At the Field of Dreams, I spend some time gazing at the different types of housing – the old original structures are made simply from wood, but the more modern “affordable housing” contains all the eco technology known to most of us from programmes like Grand Designs. I worked with an architect for years so design principles fascinate me, as do the agreements around community living.
A line of properties all has vegetables and flowers in what are their front gardens – and why not?
I love this part and stand there a while, noticing a melody on the breeze.
Someone is practising scales on a clarinet, and it’s softly carrying over the land.
After a while I realise the scales aren’t perfect – someone is practising their craft, not performing. There’s something instantly humbling about that. Practice being witnessed by the community and visitors alike.
None of us like to be imperfect. No doubt that musician would prefer to stand in the auditorium and perform a perfect piece. Yet, they know they can’t do that without putting in the hours of scales and imperfect tunes.
I let those notes carry over me as I walk through the rest of the eco-village.
We find some of those early wooden structures, made of the wood from local whisky barrels – the Moray coast and speyside too is renowned for its whisky trail. Then there’s the somewhat melancholic sight of the original blue caravan where the original founders lived, toiling the soil, building a new kind of future that attracted like-minded people and grew to such a large community.
There are activities and classes held regularly: community singing, meditation, circle dancing, tours of the hinterland, woodland and dune habitats and a variety of educational programmes (links at the end).
“How much do you know?” I was asked at the beginning of my journey through Findhorn.
I was embarrassed to reply that I knew only what I’d been told by my friend, a yoga-teacher, who had visited on retreat in the 1990s and that I’d watched an anniversary recorded interview on YouTube before coming today.
I sensed a sadness and admitted to the gentleman that of course Findhorn Eco-Village and its community is a lot bigger today with a lot more houses (modern ones at that).
“New people bring new ideas.” He told me.
It sounded like a mantra of sorts.
It was only on reading the guide book, that I discover the place has recently (since Covid) undergone such a lot of change management of necessity following a series of fires that destroyed buildings. Of course, it’s inevitable perhaps that enterprise has to become more upfront in order to keep going these days.
I wasn’t sure if it was the soft rustle of the tree branches or the now faint sound of the imperfect clarinet scales that ushered me out of the gates.
The original founders built a place of dreams here, attempting to build a version of heaven on earth.
You can still find it in the bloom of the front-garden vegetables, in the singing chamber and Universal Hall. You just have to listen and look closely.
It is there with the imperfect scales on the clarinet, on the dark, rough-hewn timbers of the old dwellings some of them now uninhabitable reminding me that the community isn’t some kind of finished masterpiece.
Findhorn Community may be caught between its mythical past and a professional future, leaving a beautiful ache for the innocence that once was, but it whispers still…if you’ll listen.
On returning to the village and making my way to the marina past the yacht school, I heard something that seemed out of place yet perfectly in place if that makes sense. Popping my head into the community centre I discovered a Himalayan exhibition. The room was washed by sound - the rhythmic, ancient chanting of the meditation mantra: Om Mani Padme Hum.
The scent of incense filled my senses.
Ending my Findhorn adventure to the low, resonant sound of meditation felt like a final piece slotting into place. I’m ready for the story to come.
Q: When was the last time you put down the notebook and just let yourself soak in the moment? How do you create space in your head to replace writing doubts? I’d love to hear your thoughts.
I have benefitted greatly from my time in the wider Findhorn area, walking the local coastline and pathways through the dunes. I came with an expectation and it was met in quite a different way than I expected.
I haven’t written what I thought I would but I have copious notes and big feelings that will make their way into future works.
Now and then (for me anyway) a good few days of doing absolutely nothing, is a salve indeed.
WRITING NEWS:
This holiday up to Findhorn hasn’t been about writing as it turns out! It has been days (and evenings) of beach walks, of venturing into the village, of eating at the marina and watching the coming and going of yachts. It has been about emptying my mind. To be ready to return and write anew.
A short story will be published in the People’s Friend Feel-Good Fiction Bookazine out in a week or so – it will look like this:
Photo courtesy of D.C.Thomson Publishers: The People’s Friend
It contains my story set around the Wuthering in Edinburgh, titled Let Me In. There were some fabulous photos online this week showing that wonderful, energetic event where a whole meadow-ful of Kate Bush lookalikes danced to Wuthering Heights and Babuska! What fun!
Thank you for bearing with me this week (especially if you listened to the audio which includes waves, wind and chatter of people on the beach!)
Hope you find space and time in your week to make space for new story!
Love from Jackie in this Little Writing Corner in Scotland x x
