I remember clearly the day Harry arrived at Solfield. It was the day after my birthday (I had just turned sixty-three), June 18th, a Wednesday. There were two group retreats going on that week, and a large team had assembled to work on the mound. So it was appropriate that Harry would show up that day.
There had been a rumor going around that he would be coming, but that had been several weeks prior, and we had all forgotten about it. So that morning I was out at the mound as well, rolling and throwing cleared rocks down the side of the hill while a crew carted them over to a pile at the edge of the clearing.
A woman named Jill, who had been staying at Solfield since May and did much of the cooking, came climbing up the side of the hill to tell us that Harry had arrived and was on his way to see Soul Mound. We all stopped working and walked down to the ground to await his arrival. And sure enough, in a few minutes Harry emerged from the edge of the woods and stopped, staring.
What I remember most clearly were his eyes. They gleamed and moistened as he took in the view in front of him. There were perhaps twenty of us gathered at the base of the mound, and I watched Harry’s face as he looked at us and then slowly lifted his gaze to the top of the mound. We had almost completed the first set of steps leading down from the top platform by then, and the white limestone shone brightly from the top of the hill.
Anne was next to him, and once he had taken it all in the two of them walked toward us. Paul, who had been working with the group, walked over to greet him, and then the rest of us as well. As I said, this was the first time I had met him or even seen him, and my first impression was memorable.
He had a full and rather scraggly beard and shoulder length hair. He wore a red hooded sweatshirt and blue jeans with holes in the knees, along with a pair of brown hiking boots. But the most distinct aspect to his appearance was his smile. I had never seen such a genuine, childlike smile on an adult before. His face was full of wonder, and joy.
Harry said nothing at first when he arrive at the base of the mound, and then he worked his way through the group of us, introducing himself and listening as we each told him our name. He hugged each of us and congratulated us on our achievements at Solfield. There was an energy around him, and it affected all of us. In the span of a few minutes, the atmosphere around us had gone from quiet and calm to charged and electric.
He began to climb the side of the hill, and we all climbed with him. I had just met the man, and yet I already knew him. Maybe it came from reading his book, or maybe he was just so open that I could feel his energy. I suppose you could call it a mystique, but it was an unimposing mystique. I was not at all nervous in his presence, but I was energized.
The group seemed to glide up the hill and arrived easily at the top. Harry stepped up onto the platform and walked over to the column of stones in the middle. Then he turned and looked out over the trees and to the mountains beyond.
The view from the platform was extraordinary, and each day I looked forward to climbing to the top of the mound. There seemed to be an expansion that took place within as I stepped onto the platform and turned around to take in the view. And I could see that Harry was experiencing the same thing that day, for the first time. His eyes were moist with tears, his smile broad. Paul and Anne stood on either side of him, and he put an arm around each of them.
It was an extraordinary moment, and I know that my words fail to convey the intensity of it, but hopefully my description did it some justice. My point is that Harry’s arrival did something to all of us and to Solfield itself. His enthusiasm and appreciation for the place, for the people there, for all the work that had been done – he understood it all, and he felt it all, and he projected it onto the rest of us.
From that day on, I saw Solfield in a very different light. Yes, it had been an incredibly beautiful and peaceful place, from the very beginning. But once Harry arrived, it became bigger. Much bigger. In a few short moments, Solfield went from our own little project to something huge and important. That’s the only way I can describe it. Solfield got bigger when Harry arrived. And because I felt part of it all, I felt bigger as well.
I think we all felt the change that took place that morning, and it never went away. We spent the rest of the day doing the kinds of things we did every day, but it all felt different now. It was as if the whole world was watching. And the heavens. Solfield had become more sacred, more important. Like a beacon. It was becoming a beacon, and Harry had arrived to light it. And now that it was lit, the world would soon know about it.
That weekend we had our first official summer solstice celebration. Two more large groups had arrived, the cabins were full, and there were many tents set up in the clearing around Soul Mound. Some folks from Portland had heard about Solfield in recent months, and they had driven out for a visit. Jill counted 81 people there that weekend, and our solstice celebration was wonderful. We set up a fire ring at the base of the mound the night before, and we arose early the next morning and gathered at the top of the mound for the sunrise.
I had been part of solstice and equinox gatherings before, as I’m sure some of you have as well. And those who have know what an intense moment it can be. The group of us sat on the top platform and on the steps leading down from it and watched in silence as the sun broke through the horizon. It was quiet and peaceful. A slight fog hung in the trees below. An occasional bird flew past us. The sky filled with pink, and then orange.
There was music – guitars and percussion and the like. We danced at sunrise, and again at sunset, and again around the fire that night. It’s impossible to describe, but perhaps you can imagine the atmosphere. And underneath it all was the feeling that we were launching something, birthing something that would continue to grow in the years to come.
And grow it would. Later years would see much larger gatherings, but that first one would always be my favorite. I love beginnings. I love the earliest moments of a party or a performance or a ceremony. I love beginnings, and that summer was a beginning.
Harry had arrived, and Solfield had grown, almost imperceptibly, into something bigger. There were more groups coming up for retreats and gatherings. More steps were completed on Soul Mound. The vegetable garden was expanded, as well as the flower gardens. A recreational hall with a kitchen in the back was built at the edge of the cabin clearing. It was looking more and more like an established facility, though it’s isolation allowed it to retain its rustic atmosphere.
The rest of the season saw larger and larger groups arriving, and word had begun to spread through various circles that there was a place up in Oregon, a place called Solfield, that was worth a visit. And though the drive was long, and the hike from the main road took a few hours, people were finding their way there. One or two here or there, and occasionally small groups of three or four, hiked in unexpectedly, set up a tent or two, and stayed for as long as they wanted.
Some people brought extra food, which they left behind when they departed. And virtually everyone who visited Solfield embarked on some sort of project to contribute to the place. Everyone, at some point, climbed to the top of Soul Mound, grabbed a hammer and chisel, and helped carve out another step. The energy of every visitor was deposited atop the mound, and the feeling of simply being up there was something to experience in and of itself. There were always people on Soul Mound, either chiseling or talking or meditating or singing or just pondering.
So Solfield was now officially established, and running, and self-sustaining. There was really nothing that any particular person had to do to keep it running. All reservations were done on the website that Paul had set up. And everything else was taken care of somehow. Everyone knew their role, and they performed it.
So that is how Solfield got up and running. The basic approach to it would not change in the years to come, only the size and scale. More cabins would be built, though many visitors would prefer to bring tents and camp wherever they chose. Paul and Anne would purchase more property, allowing Solfield to expand.
Soul Mound would grow more and more each year, following the original pattern – three steps, seven steps, three steps, down to the next platform. More labyrinths would be built, in various remote clearings throughout the property. More gardens would be cleared and planted. And all the while, Solfield would retain its isolated feel. Nobody was interested in turning it into a resort. It was supposed to be rough, natural. The point was to live among nature, not to conquer it.
Solfield grew organically, with no real organization other than each person doing whatever they were inspired to do. Everyone had their talents and passions, and they expressed them freely and energetically. And so Solfield grew, and grew, and grew. It grew far beyond what any of us had envisioned, and word of it spread as well.
Paul had done much to the website, including posting a number of excerpts from Harry’s book. In the years since it’s publishing, the book had sold thousands of copies, though it was still relatively unheard of in mainstream society. But many people had read it, and most found their way to the Solfield website. There they learned about Solfield, and Soul Mound, and some of them decided to make a visit.
Eventually, people came from all over the world, usually in pairs or small groups. The primary gathering was the summer solstice, which grew bigger every year. As I said previously, there were 81 people present for the first one. The next year there were more than two hundred, and we estimated there were almost a thousand attendees for the third annual summer solstice celebration.
By then, Soul Mound had three levels including the top platform. Hopefully you can visualize what it looks like - the pattern of steps causes each flight to appear curved, starting gently, then becoming steep, then gently arriving at the next platform. A thousand people easily fit up there, and oh what a sight it was!
Harry had, by this time, become somewhat of a celebrity around Solfield. He spent every summer there, from late-May to early-October, returning to someplace in Indiana for the rest of the year. Each spring a large group of us would arrive to open up and clean the cabins, clear and till and plant gardens, fix what needed fixing, etc. And by the time Harry and others arrived at the end of May, the place was up and running and in good shape.
I’ve probably told you all you need to know about Solfield at this point, so I’ll leave it at that. It was my job to tell you how it all got off the ground, and I think I’ve done that. There are more changes to come, but I will let Paul tell you about them.
He will tell you about what happened when the rest of the world discovered Solfield. You see, this isn’t just a story about some people who started a spiritual retreat somewhere in Oregon. It’s about what can happen when one or more people decide that it’s time to move forward, that it’s time to unleash some of our potential.
As Harry would say, there is divinity lying dormant within each of us, and within the collective. All that is necessary to bring that divinity to the surface and to begin to express it is the acknowledgment that it is there, and that it has been there all along.
So enjoy the rest of the story.
Perhaps some of you will understand what it is really about.
