Lilipoh Magazine, Special Edition: Celebrating 50 Years of Camphill in North America (December 2010)

From an old family estate in the north of Scotland the path of Camphill has led to many places, some with ideal houses ready to welcome the children or adults without whom our work would have no meaning. In some cases, a community has started in a small farm house … once even in a post office … and new houses have been built around the existing structures. Here on Vancouver Island, right on the shores of the Pacific Ocean, we have had the task and privilege of creating something literally from the ground upwards, surrounded by a young land of mountains, evergreens, and rivers, some of it decimated by huge logging operations and some of it still untouched.

Pioneering is something one associates with the West, and the beginnings of Glenora Farm followed the accepted pattern. Arriving from West Vancouver, a small group of coworkers and companions faced the daunting task of beginning a community where the land was untilled and there were no buildings. Land had to be reclaimed from nature one spadeful at a time, fenced against deer and bears, and watered by hand with water hauled out from the nearby town in the back of a pickup. Trees had to be felled for lumber, fence posts and firewood. Sheds and barn had to be built from scratch; nothing was simply there for our use. Companions watched with big eyes and helped wherever they could. With no house on the land, everyone lived in town and travelled to the farm to help in the now growing garden. On days when the weather permitted, someone would cook in one of the houses, put all the pans and dishes in the car and drive out to the farm where everyone would gather and eat their lunch sitting on logs next to the garden. Craft work was begun in whichever house could accommodate candle dipping, woodwork or weaving. On a special day under clear blue skies the group gathered to ask the permission of the elemental beings to build the house that was to be home to the entire community for some years. With all farmland in British Columbia under the regulation of the Agricultural Land Reserve Act, we were only allowed one house … so we made it a big one, since it had to house three families, a few single coworkers and our companions. We made many friends in the area, and they would join in some of the work, those festivals that could be celebrated outdoors, and potlucks around the firepit accompanied by folk dancing and singing.

The Cowichan Valley is a fertile ground for true pioneers; it grew up around mining and logging, and people were used to making do with very little. There are a tremendous number of craftspeople in the area, and a wealth of musical and artistic talent; against all odds, there has been a Waldorf school for over 20 years, and a high school as well. There is an appreciation for the fact that we are building something new, and although people's lives are so busy, we have gained respect and friendship from our neighbours that has supported us through a long rezoning process which finally allowed us to build new houses. We also have a unique (in Camphill) foothold in the local community; we run the local corner shop and gas station, in which there is a café at one end and cigarettes at the other, and where people can rent videos or buy canned soup next to shelves that display the products from our craft workshops.

Our imprint in this geographical area is very important, and the companions as well as the coworkers have a feeling of being entrusted with the task of preserving something unspoiled in nature. As well as working the land biodynamically, we have hosted a streamkeepers' course for the Land Conservancy, and have become part of a group of people pioneering the tapping of the Pacific maple for syrup (something unheard of until recent years),. We are surrounded by tracts of land that have been heavily logged, and at times have felt rather like an island! We have felled and milled our own trees for use in building our barn and our two new houses, using building techniques in keeping with our wish to work as stewards of the land we have been entrusted with, and our companions share in the awareness of this trust and help wherever they can.

All this has created a sense of purpose that characterizes our community, a common purpose around which all our lives revolve, whether we are cared for or caregiver, whether we work the land with our hands or just find pleasure in the openness and purity of the place. In keeping with the history of the Cowichan Valley, we have often had to make do with the materials we have to hand, and to find creative solutions to achieve what would otherwise have been too expensive for our tight budget.

An inevitable part of any true pioneering community … as in the Camphill movement as a whole … is that those who gather around a common task are strong individuals, with very different ideas of how each step should be achieved. At times this could have spelled disaster for our community, had it not been for the fact that in spite of differences in culture and personalities, we each had three strong qualities in common.

• We were too stubborn to give up easily.
• Disagreements were not unduly unsettling; in fact it was a point of pride with some that they could have arguments where they did not mince words, rolled with the punches without throwing in the towel, and respected each other the more for it. This speaks of generosity of soul.
• We were and are capable of great enthusiasm for our own ideas and those of others.

Without the strength and even stubbornness of the individual members of the group, things might have been more pleasant at times, but it is quite likely that much less would have been achieved. In spite of fiery moments, occasional despair and exhaustion, these difficulties have forced us to meet with each other in a way that does not allow dishonesty or avoidance, and has as its base the absolute dependence on the Fundamental Social Law.

Generosity allowed us to look beyond differences of opinion and annoying quirks and be interested in, even enthusiastic about another's unique gifts. There was even a certain pride expressed from time to time in the colourful diversity of our community. Our idealistic like-mindedness had initially brought us together, went through a process of losing its sheen in the abrasive nitty-gritty of life in close proximity, with the whole community in one house, and metamorphosed into interest and pride in one another. In this sense we became true brothers and sisters.

So far, so good. Then new people came, and we doubled in numbers. The respect and friendship that had grown between us over the years was seen as cliqueishness. Our openness to new ideas in the realm of economic brotherliness was perceived as muddle-headedness, and our colourful diversity as chaos. The care of our companions was the glue holding us together, but in other realms we were struggling to communicate.

We faced disaster yet again, and some people left. However, those who were able to look beyond their first impressions and stay on had the wherewithal to mirror back to us, without giving offence, how our community appeared to newcomers. In many soul-searching conversations, we exchanged ideals and aspirations.

We are still doing so. We have not found answers, but we have found enthusiasm for working on those questions we have identified. Here are some of those questions.

• How can we carry the impulse that has brought us together without compromise and not close our minds to new ideas? Should we be open to everything? Is there something that is non-negotiable? Is that in fact the right question?
• How can we find administrative forms that are not stiflingly over-regulated, but allow initiative and creativity?
• How can we work economically together in a brotherly way and still leave room for individual entrepreneurship?
• How do we further the work of Camphill as a healing process in the world?

The road to our farm is an unpaved one, often with potholes, and beyond is an open, uncharted landscape; this is our physical situation, which is also the path of our community. It is full of possibility, hard work and new ideas, and reflects our wish to create something out of a truth that lives in each one of us, however different we may be.

For Glenora Farm Community,
Olaf Lampson and Lucinde Metcalfe