3 Life-Changing Things I Learned At Findhorn That Stayed With Me 50 Years Later
Some truths are forever.
I first heard about Findhorn, the spiritual community in the Highlands of Scotland, from the editor who bought my first book, way back in 1973.
My co-authors and I had been waiting over eighteen months for action on the book we’d sold to Grosset & Dunlop, the now-defunct publisher.
One day, I received a call from Kevin the editor, who had acquired the book for the company. He said he was leaving D&G, but he had scheduled a publication date for the book so no one in the company could kill it when he left.
I had no idea what all that meant, but I was glad to hear the book was moving forward. And then I asked why he was leaving. To do some traveling, he said.
A couple of years later, after the book was published, I was in New York to visit the publisher and new editor. She had a surprise for me. Kevin was back in New York for a visit and would join us for lunch. That’s when I heard about Findhorn.
He’d gone to live in this spiritual community located in the highlands of Scotland. He told me to read a book written by one of the founders to learn about the teachings. It would explain why he was drawn there. I thought he was a bit nuts, but made a mental note to look up the book, and we went on with our lunch.
I found the book in my local bookstore and had a powerful reaction to the story of Eileen and Peter Caddy and Dorothy MacLean, who founded Findhorn in 1962.
As I read the book, I had a fierce desire to go to Findhorn. It’s teachings, that we receive guidance from angels, for example were entirely new to me. Yet, the book set off a strong reaction I couldn’t ignore.
Not long after I finished the book, in 1976, my mother called and said she wanted to visit England and Ireland, where my father had died three years earlier. The trip was a gift to me, and when she announced this unbelievable opportunity to see my roots, the first thing that popped into my mind was that I would go to Findhorn.
And I did.
I admit, I may have talked myself into a frenzy of spiritual awakening that blew the community, and its importance out of proportion, But all of a sudden, the trip to Ireland became merely a reason to visit this community — which later proved false. However, I worked out train schedules from my relatives home in England and planned the side trip to Scotland.
As it happened, I ended up spending four days at Findhorn. I went with expectations that I might want to live there myself. But upon arriving, I was overwhelmed with the dedication of the residents to a lifestyle that seemed severe in the extreme.
Visitors were required to participate in chores, which was fine. I recall nailing shingles on the roof of this big building under construction and helping with meal preparation in the evening. We had early morning meditation attended by the founders the Caddys and Dorothy MacLean. I attended several lectures and ended up leaving Findhorn feeling somewhat down in the mouth, unable to live up to their high spiritual standards.
I’ve long recovered from the effects of the expectations either Findhorn or my own perfectionism placed on my delicate ego, but I learned some important life lessons at Findhorn. The focus was on living a good, productive, emotional, spiritual, and physically clean life. Dorothy MacLean and Eileen Caddy claimed the angels spoke to them and gave them these teachings.
I can’t vouch for the provenance, but I’ve carried with me several of these teachings that have held up for almost fifty years. Some of them have been absorbed into the culture by now. Perhaps you’ll find them useful.
1. The angels can’t communicate with you through dirt.
When I first heard this admonition given by Peter Caddy to the group in the big meeting room, I thought he was speaking directly to me. I can’t say I live in a dirt-filled home, but I’m not the neat and tidy person that my sister was or my best friend, Wendy. I was always intimidated by their neatness and always tried to keep a closer eye on my clutter. But no matter how hard I tried, piles of paper and laundry and dishes, etc. would appear as if by magic.
I didn’t really believe in angels, though the Caddy’s offered proof in their amazing garden, the famous 40-pound cabbages that sprang from sand and gravel under directions from the spirits that spoke to them. So who I was to disparage the supernatural world?
But while I never mastered my clutter, I did leave Findhorn with my own version of Peter Caddy’s admonition. When I find myself stuck or resisting my writing project, I get up from my computer and do the dishes. Or, I make the bed or dust the tabletops.
I’ll take on whatever chore has gone unnoticed. I can’t say that clearing out dirt and clutter allows the angels to speak to me, but I always, without fail, return to my work with new inspiration. I think it may have something to do with changing up the neural pathways.
Whatever. Taking a break to do some mindless housework allows me to rethink a plot or outline a new article. Angels? Brain plasticity? I’ll take whatever help I can get when it comes to getting my work done.
2. Manifest wholeness.
The idea of manifesting was unheard when I visited Findhorn in the early 70’s. Now we have bookshelves groaning with advice on variations of spiritual magic that purport to teach you to think into existence whatever plaything attracts your attention.
But that’s not the manifesting the folks that began Findhorn had in mind. Manifesting wholeness was one of the teachings Eileen Caddy received in her meditations, and a difficult one for me to understand at first. Yes, I had to get past the whole business of angels speaking to us, but back then, I was stuck in the mindset of believing that my thoughts were a reflection of reality; I believed I couldn’t change the way I felt about myself or my life.
But Eileen Caddy taught us to manifest ourselves as whole beings, to manifest ourselves as confident beings capable of goodness and good things. It took a lot of meditation and thinking on my part, but I came to see this teaching as intention.
I have control over what I intend, whether that’s an intention to develop my writing skills, my confidence in social situations, or to finish what I started. I’m subject to negative thoughts like everyone else. But my intention is to be a positive force in the universe, to look for the light, for ways to see positivity in my world. That intention has carried me further in life than trying to battle negative thoughts.
For example, my intention is to write every day. I don’t want to write every day, or wish I could write every day. It is my intention to write every day, and my job is to manifest that intention by resisting thoughts that want me to give up and watch Netflix or take a break to buy ice cream. I can do those things, but after I write. If I merely wanted to write, that wishy-washy statement could lead me astray.
My belief in intention comes from my first work trying to understand manifesting myself as a whole being. I’m not just a creature at the hands of negative thoughts, of an imposter syndrome. I’m also a being capable of intention and choice.
3. Wisdom comes from a willingness to learn.
I’ve been lucky enough to meet a lot of very smart people in my life. I’ve also worked in places where I’ve absorbed a lot of information — hospitals, universities, law offices. Since I had very little college training, that means I’ve learned a lot by association and osmosis. But there’s a danger in this kind of second-hand learning. Or, really, in any kind of education. You can get infected by know-it-all-itis.
Findhorn teaches that we close our minds to new learning at our peril. We don’t just learn new facts when we listen to others. A willingness to learn creates a state of mind that leads to true wisdom, not just technical smarts.
Think of the people you admire, and chances are, they listen to others. They aren’t stuck in their positions, their beliefs. Maybe, they even listen to you on occasion.
We reach wisdom traveling many roads. We must listen and trust our own angels, whether that’s our inner voice or a guide we trust from another realm, as Eileen Caddy did.
We also have to practice opening our minds for pearls from those around us. We never know when someone will have the key to a troubling mystery. Most of all, we must be willing to listen to those we disagree with. Isn’t that what we wish others would do with our pearls of wisdom? You never know where the answer to your trouble will come from. But if you aren’t open to listening, you can miss your chance at wisdom.
To recap, my three lessons from Findhorn:
- Allowing angels (or inspiration) to speak to me while I clean.
- Living with intention.
- Opening my mind to others.
These three pearls have helped me, I hope they help you.
