I was born in 1925 on a farm on the slopes of a hill outside the small town of Peebles in the Scottish Borders. I was a dreamy child and only later did I realize how much the landscape, nature and the activities on the farm were part of me.

I began to wake up when I was 11 and my father told me what was happening in Germany. Hitler had come to power and was persecuting the Jewish people. In 1940 I remember a second shock when a fellow pupil came into the chemistry lesson to announce the fall of France. We suddenly became older.

In 1943 after a year of University study I was both ready and anxious to join the army. From my childhood I had the sense that my desired future was a life of adventure. Now it was on offer. After a brief introduction into army life I volunteered to go to India and after some desultory training joined a Gurkha regiment in the Indian army. I was now living what I had dreamed of in childhood. In July 1944 I was with my battalion on the banks of the Irrawaddy river, which runs from north to south in Burma (Myanmar) awaiting the order to cross the river and attack the Japanese on the east side, a land of forest and deep ravines at monsoon season. I had passing thoughts of the possibility of being killed. At another level was the fear of being afraid, but no hesitation in determination to advance when called. Unexpectedly the radio announced that Hiroshima and Nagasaki had been destroyed by two H-bombs.

That was in August 1945. From then I was part of the British invasion to recover a lost empire. But I knew that its time was past and I felt only friendship for the peoples we had ruled. I was ordered to do various tasks with a company of Gurkhas and moved from Singapore through Malaya, Java and Sumatra until February 1947 I was flown home in a freezing winter to resume my studies.

In my travels I had some striking experiences and acquired a strong affection for the peoples of these countries.

When I had completed my degree in Law I knew I had no interest in it and with £20 in my pocket I took the bus south, crossed the channel and found in Paris a cheap room with blue walls. I knew nobody, had no portfolio for the Beaux-Arts and no studio.

I had begun painting while still studying Law. A Thursday evening on drawing from a model was my only training. I had made portraits of my parents and copied some old masters from reproductions. Being shy about my abilities I made little progress. I was impressed by the French and German contemporaries without seeing them as models for me. I made a portrait of a Russian friend a la Kokoschka but I felt I had to find a key that would open a door.

I taught English in Berlitz and to NATO officers. It was a cold winter and the down-and outs slept on the metro air vents which offered warmth. Abbe Pierre, a Catholic worker priest provided them with food next to the NATO HQ. I wanted to offer my services but the priest wasn’t in and the response I got unencouraging.

After a year in France I returned to London. I continued to paint and teach in schools. The major event was meeting Marie-Claire whom I married in a Catholic church in the 2nd arrondissement in 1955.

I decided I could no longer continue to teach in the London school system. The physical punishment practised in the best schools, the focus on high IQs and exam results and much of the content in history and social life were alien to me. On a visit to Edinburgh and its public library I examined a long line of books on education to see if I had missed somebody. The name ‘Rudolf Steiner’ appeared. I had heard it before with a disparaging voice. I opened the book and immediately saw that the writer understood the education of children as no-one else I had read.

The consequence of this encounter was for Marie-Claire and me a year of training at Michael Hall Steiner school under the leadership of Francis Edmunds and then 25 years of teaching in the Elmfield Steiner school. This was no dream voyage. I immediately realized that Steiner was not just a guide in education but presented a spiritual insight into a vast range of issues, on scientific, social, economic and philosophic questions relevant today.

In addition to teaching subjects with a new kind of preparation I also had a major role in dealing with parents, fellow teachers and staff and an inadequate budget. Our four children had now left school and testing their independence in universities and further education. We were now offered a sabbatical year and in the summer of 1979 Marie-Claire and I set off in a small car on a journey which included her home in France, Italy, Yugoslavia, Greece, then by sea to Israel. We returned to Germany to a large Waldorf school where I directed 16 year olds to present the Chinese play ‘Lady Precious Stream’.

I was then offered by Emerson College, which had since been founded by Francis Edmunds, the task of directing the Education Course which had become vacant. In April 81 we moved to Forest Row.
For the next 15 to 20 years I taught at Emerson College. The content can be summed up in the title of Neil Postman’s book ‘The End of Education’ with its double meaning. It involved lectures, conferences and travels in Europe, US and the Far East. It was a rewarding time for me and, no doubt, this may spill into some of my blog posts.

I edited and contributed to Natural Childhood and have recently had published ‘The Experience of Thinking from Plato to Buber’.  I have made a translation of ‘The Calendar of the Soul’ by Rudolf Steiner, a sequence of weekly meditations.