I was born into a flat in Station House in Findhorn, next to a pub called The Kimberly, in 1961, the year before the Caddys came to establish what grew into a spiritual community in the caravan park at the end of RAF Kinloss runway, where my daddy worked.

After my mother died, I returned to Findhorn for Experience Week in 2006,  from where I was drawn to Iona and from there to Staffa and Fingal’s Cave. I could barely believe the power of the place, but went back there a second time as soon as I could and many times since.

I always feel something similar; I don’t know what it is, yet I submitted myself to it. I stood in the stern of the Iolaire  as we chugged home and gazed into the sun, committing myself to the mission, whatever it might be.

Five years later, coming round from a near death experience when I received a massive electric shock while visiting the site of the Buddha’s enlightenment, that moment returned to me.

Had I known exactly what I was getting myself into then I might have thought twice. As it was I am privileged to have lived through such an extreme initiation. It gives one an unusual perspective.

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