The Touchwood Project

I’ve been learning to let go of my perfectionist, controlling tendencies and trying instead to be still, be present, be okay with not knowing what will happen.

It all came about courtesy of several humbling blows. We didn’t get the loan from RBS, then Social Investment Scotland turned us down. Then we couldn’t find any grant funding that would actually pay us to keep working.

It felt like we were just hitting brick wall after wall. And then I hit a wall.

Right before Christmas, as I was busily trying to get homemade Christmas presents finished and shipped to my friends and family in the US, I was blindsided by a massive headache. It was so sudden, so unrelenting, that NHS called out an ambulance as I sat huddled in the bathtub, squeezing my head to try to stop the pain.

I’m not a tough person when it comes to pain. I’m embarrassed to think about all the people I’ve since spoken to who regularly have or used to have migraines, who suffer with chronic, debilitating pain as a matter of course. But that kind of pain scared the hell out of me, and told me I was seriously out of whack.

The doctors didn’t know what it was, but I knew it was tension, stress. So I decided I was taking the 12 days of Christmas off. No work, no thinking or talking about Touchwood. Just enjoying life and Christmas and being with Malcolm and our cats.

It was wonderful, the best Christmas ever. Malcolm made those 12 days magical, keeping a fire burning throughout by lighting the lantern with a flame from the fire, then rekindling the fire in the morning from the lantern. We put up a tree, and spent every day around the fire, knitting (me), reading, playing games, eating and talking.

Finally after about 3 weeks of this, I was ready to think about Touchwood. Malcolm asked me, what do I really want, most of all? We’d tried the conservative, small-scale approach and it wasn’t working. So let’s cast the net wide…

My immediate vision was of a sweep of curved glass banked by thick timber, looking out over the heather and peat and sea. Hobbit holes dotted in the hillside, 100% off the grid but with a modern, light-filled feel.

I imagined using colour to create moods, to make people coming feel relaxed, then energised, then convivial, depending on the space and time of day. I dreamed of small groups of guests chatting around the central fire, making friends with people they just met that day over the long block of the dining table.

My dream is the kind of project that costs millions, not £12,000. But thinking small didn’t seem to work, so we’re thinking big.

We’re adding a number of community projects to our plans. Initially we were going to wait till we’d established the eco-tourism side of the business, but now we’re looking at doing whichever projects the community most wants.

One of our key goals is to help Orkney be self-sufficient, so all the projects relate to that. Our island should be able to rely on itself entirely for its food and energy and yet we’re far from that now.

I’d love to help start up a community garden, perhaps selling fresh fruit and veg at farmers’ markets. I’d love to see every home with its own turbine, or perhaps small community wind/wave turbines powering all of our homes.

I’d love to help create footpath networks all across Orkney so we can drive less and walk more — and most importantly, stop in and see people, get to know our neighbours (at least those of us who live outside of the towns). I’d like to stop seeing women pushing strollers along the highway where there is no shoulder.

I’d love to see buildings that are beautifully designed, that are eco-friendly, and fit into the surroundings by taking the best of ancient and modern references.

These are some of my dreams, ones I think many people on Orkney share, but I won’t know until I ask them. And it could be there are organisations already doing some of these projects, in which case I want to know how I can help.

I want to build a team of people who know their strengths and who feel I care about their development. I remember all too well what it is to feel you have a lot to give but your job just doesn’t want it. I know how powerful a good manager is, someone who is looking after you, encouraging you to gain more skills, try out new experiences, offer your opinions and efforts to a project that’s for the good of others.

Anyway, that’s what I’d like to see happen. So the new plan is to spend 2009 getting funding, writing a business plan that’s bold, exciting and works, and recruiting a staff of dedicated people who will in turn mobilise the efforts of community members who share a vision of Orkney like this.

Then I want to do this in several places around the world. How’s that for big?

I have no idea if Touchwood will work, if we’ll attract the kind of people who believe in it and who want to take action, be involved. No clue if we’ll get the grant or loan money we need, or entice the customers and guests to a remote island that most of the world, if they even know of it, think is something like Siberia.

But I try to live in the present, accept I can’t do everything, and that I very well may fail. I’m stopping fighting, and going with the flow. We’ll see what happens, but at this moment, it feels right.

Tags: social enterprise

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