The Story of Finn Moray. Living True: A Personal Reflection by Finn Moray (AKA David Sheret)
- David Sheret
- 4 days ago
- 4 min read

There are moments in life that split you. Before and after. For me, the spring of 2025 was one of those moments. A watershed, not just in the emotional sense but in the deep tectonic way your sense of self begins to shift.
In the space of six short weeks, I lost my dad, William (Willie) Sheret MBE, my lifelong teacher in dignity, quiet strength and steady work. He was also my best friend. Alongside him in memory is my mum, Marjory (Margie) Sheret, who passed away in 2009 and shaped so much of who I am. I also lost my good friend Paul Fox, a man whose mischief and spark could lift even the heaviest day and someone I admired more than I probably ever told him. And I lost Jax, my wee Jack Russell, who padded through life beside me and my fiancée Jill, giving joy without condition. Walks, quiet nights, mad days, Jax was there for it all.
That kind of loss does not just make you sad. It makes you reconsider. It asks you, bluntly, who you really are and how you want to spend whatever time you have got left.
When grief comes in waves, it strips away the surface noise. What is left is bedrock. And in that bedrock, I found something clear, a deep desire to live more openly. Not perfectly, let us be straight, I am far from perfect. I have my flaws. I have off days. But I now carry with me a sharper clarity. I want to be around kind, open, forward-looking people. I want to create. Express. Build. I want to be useful, not in some puffed-up way, but in a human way. I want to help people feel seen, valued and supported.
Since 2006, I have built a career in offshore energy and consultancy here in Aberdeen, and I am proud of that. But after the personal upheavals of early 2025, something in me needed to grow, evolve, expand. I had also moved on from a business in 2024. While I left well and in good standing, the process was not without its challenges. So when I started SEO in early 2025 with my new business partner and friend, Graeme Wood, there was a kind of catharsis in it. We were starting fresh, building forward.
Our focus began with pre-screening and consultancy support for companies, and we quickly developed a new direction, a communications AI platform. A human-in-the-loop system that helps individuals and organisations speak better, clearer and more meaningfully. Not just soundbites or dashboards, but depth. Communication that brings clarity in the chaos. That listens rather than talks. That invites understanding. We are still early in the journey, but the belief is real, and the response from our most forward-thinking clients shows we are building something of real substance. Because better words lead to better outcomes. Better thinking. Better lives.
At the same time, something even more personal began to emerge, Finn Moray.
With the high intelligence/integrity/wisdom behind-the-scenes support of Graeme, a rare soul who sees potential before convention, and my trusted colleague and friend Andie Moonie; who has worked alongside me at three companies now so either she is mad or we are aligned in more ways than most, we started building something bold. A musical map of Scotland. Song by song, village by village, we want to honour the stories of this land and its people. Finn is not about chasing charts or industry acclaim. He's about resonance, about giving something back. Preserving memory. Amplifying identity. Leaving something useful behind.
I kicked the construction of the initiative off in July. I’ve been writing songs and poems for years, so it felt natural to start there. Rather than go the usual route, I chose to be open. Honest. Me.
I filmed an interview for Taproom Talks with OGV in Aberdeen, and the production was led by the inspirational Kenny Dooley. Kenny is one of those rare creative talents, not just technically brilliant but emotionally intuitive. He maybe saw what I was trying to say before I even said it. That video, and the feeling that came from it from others, vindicated that the Finn Moray journey was there, and we had to go for it.
People often say you have to choose, business or art, logic or emotion, tradition or innovation. But I do not buy that anymore.
At SEO, we work hard, helping companies solve, grow and evolve. But I also write songs and poems. I play guitar. I compose and produce. I try to bring people together, to connect the old with the new. It might not be conventional, but it is real. It is me. And I am lucky that Graeme, Andie and our newest member of the team, Eilidh Brown, are behind it too.
Going forward, I’ve made a personal choice. I will not give my time to negativity, to smallness, to bitterness, to cynical noise. That doesn’t mean I don’t feel things. I do. But I choose to stay open-hearted. To be positive, not in a hollow or performative way, but in an authentic, rooted way. If that is misunderstood or not well received, that is alright. The path still stands. And I will keep walking it.
Because here is the truth, life is short and it is precious. And the most scientifically validated insight into human flourishing, from decades of behavioural and psychological research, is this. We thrive when we live with authenticity, purpose and connection. We grow not by chasing perfection but by doing meaningful work with meaningful people.
So that is what we are building.
Through Finn Moray, through our work in energy, through AI that listens as well as it speaks. Through songs that carry history and heart, through new ways of leading, where compassion outpaces ego. Finn wants to make things that matter. To lift others as he goes. To leave behind something that helps people, not just think, but feel.
My dad would have told me to get on with it. Paul would have told me to make it mad, make it loud. And Jax, well, he would have jumped on the bed and bounced about with pure joy.
And so I, we, Finn, keep going. Not perfect. Not polished. But present. Purposeful. And true.
That is all we can offer. And that, IMHO, is more than enough.



Comments