Background information

Okay, my Newbold blog, where to start …

Background information:

I lived in Swansea for 14 years having moved there to be with my partner.  We were together for 12 years (married for the final 6) and when we divorced I lived in a flat on my own for two years.  For the last 6 years of my time in Swansea I had a great job helping adults with a learning disability to develop their literacy, numeracy and communication skills.  During all of this (though mostly in the final 3 years) I re-evaluated my ideas on life and relationships.

In May 2007 I had 3 weeks of annual leave that had to be taken.  The reason I had these 3 weeks was because I kept putting off and putting off using them because, since separating from my wife, I didn’t know what to do with my holiday time.  I decided to go on a road trip, tent in car, working my way North.  The intention was to visit various friends along the way and finally arrive at the Findhorn Foundation in the North of Scotland.

I first heard about the Findhorn Foundation just after I had moved to Swansea to be with my partner.  A friend of hers loaned me a book, The Magic of Findhorn, which depicted the founding of the famous spiritual community that began on a rather desolate little caravan park.  The story was eccentric and unlikely and involved three characters: an ex RAF chap who was on a spiritual quest, his partner who had a habit of receiving guidance from an ‘inner voice’ and their friend, a woman who developed an ability to communicate with the intelligence of the natural world.  The story of these three kooks on a caravan park would probably never have even become a story were it not for the gigantic vegetables they grew out of sand when they followed their inner guidance.  Whatever their voices were telling them, the vegetables certainly seemed to agree.

I read about how a community gradually built up around these characters and eventually became independent of them.  These days it is a huge affair, incorporating a village of beautiful eco houses, its own wind farm that makes itself sustaining in terms of electricity, and an entire wider community of eco friendly off-shoot organisations.

At the time of reading this book I felt really excited by it.  I wanted to go visit straight away.  My partner was not impressed by my wanting to swan off to Scotland so soon after we had got together, so … well, I didn’t go.

14 years passed by.

In May 2007, as I worked my way North on my road trip holiday, I found that only one person I had been intending to visit was actually available.  After leaving my friend Jen’s house in Yorkshire I headed towards Edinburgh.  I’d never been to Scotland before and thought this would be the natural first stop, but as I drew closer I noticed that the idea of Edinburgh depressed me, while the idea of driving straight to Findhorn gave me a chill that fell on the thrilling side of trepidation.

Because nobody was available to see me, because I had this build up of annual leave, because I followed my feelings and drove straight past Edinburgh, I arrived in time to find out about Experience Week (the Foundation’s core introduction course) on the Thursday, sign up for it on the Friday and start it on the Saturday, and also to have some time afterwards to hang around and do some volunteering.  This lead to my meeting some people who have become very important in my life, it lead to me having the greatest summer I’ve had so far (despite the weather) and it lead to me having a mystical experience by the Findhorn River (I guess I’ll blog about that later).  It also lead to me visiting Newbold House (a sister community to the Foundation) during Experience Week and having a lot of déjà vu here, which in turn lead to me returning in August to do 2 weeks on the working guest programme which then lead to me going back to Swansea to quit my job, work my notice, let go of my flat and come back here.

Phew.

During my 2 years living alone in Swansea I had identified several things I wished for in my life that were definitely lacking: a sense of community (something still with me from my childhood when I grew up in a terraced street in Salford, until they were demolished when I was 10), a more active lifestyle, collaboration with creative people and also to be around people with whom I can discuss my ideas on the nature of existence.  Basically I wanted to feel free to relax and be myself.

As I type these words I am sitting in an attic room of Newbold House, which I am hoping to claim as my room so long as fire safety regulations can be satisfied (it’s a touch on the cold side, but it’s big and beautiful – all bare stone work and wooden beams).  I have completed six weeks of the working guest programme and one full week of being a co-worker.  If I complete another six weeks of being a co-worker it is feasible that I apply to become a full member of the community and take part in the decision-making processes here.

I get a strong feeling of familiarity with this place.  The air seems thick with memories of dreams I had when I was a boy, and those dreams in turn seem to be dreams of memories of things that haven’t happened yet.  The place seems to resonate with the vibrations of all the people I will know here.  I feel this at odd moments of each day, when I’m working on maintenance in the grounds, surrounded by the trees, when I’m in the kitchen sharing meals with the Newbold family, and when I’m up here in this attic space where the feeling is especially strong.

So, yes.  Here I am.

Here I am.