Brotherhood of the Sun Members Seek 'Heaven on Earth' in the Hills of Santa Barbara
By Shayla Escudero
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Patty Paulsen stumbled upon the Sunburst community by accident. Or maybe it was serendipity.
Hidden in the lush green hills of Lompoc, California, the community is the stuff of fables to Santa Barbara locals. Four-hundred people living in teepees and the hulls of sailboats. Spending their days in the sun; harvesting tomatoes, hauling bushels of wheat, shepherding goats and meditating. They called it “heaven on Earth”.
Paulsen, her voice soft and wavering, recalls how she found the community, some 40 years ago.
It was her 19th birthday and the last semester of nursing school. Tears fell as she lit a candle in the attic of her Tudor home in New York. “Nothing was tapping into the depths of hunger inside of me,” she says. “I was longing for something, and I didn't quite know what it was.”
She blew out the candle and wished for an answer.
And to her, the answer came to her the night of a party. A young man she met than night told her, “You're like a plant that needs to be transplanted into another soil.’”
So, on a whim she went on a cross-country trip to California with him, hoping to fill her deep longing.
Wandering up the streets of Santa Barbara she found a store with apples and oranges in the window. The shop was owned by a group who lived together and grew their own natural foods.
“I stepped in and immediately felt this energy.” So when one of the workers offered to take her up the mountain to Sunburst in the old school bus, she said yes.
Paulsen was in unfamiliar territory. Three-thousand miles away she had only known city life. And to be alone in nature, in the darkness of the countryside scared her.
“We're so conditioned to a way of life, how we live. It can freak you out a bit to do something different.”
It’s difficult for Paulsen to explain how she decided to stay. It was more a feeling than a decision.
“It felt intuitive. Like I was being drawn there.”
And saying goodbye to her only ride home, it made it more real. But she felt like she was left in good hands.
And once she fell into the group, she never never left.
“I have a really strong, fulfilling purpose in life. And I didn't have that before. I was lost. I was lost in a big city in New York.” she says.
But over 50 years have passed since the group first started, and as the group enters their senior years, they face an uncertain future.
Patty Paulsen feeding horses on Sunburst property.
Standing the Test of Time
The morning is foggy, with early signs of rain visible from the stained glass panels of the meditation room, where members meditate. They sit in rows of circles. One member at the end holds a drum on his lap, and other members clap their hands. “Thank you for the rain,” they sing in cadence.
At 52 years old, Sunburst Sanctuary, formerly known as the Brotherhood of the Sun, is a bit of an anomaly in the world of intentional communities. Intentional communities expert, Bill Metcalf ,says that many of the communities started in the ‘60s and ‘70s and fizzled out fast.
“Probably two thirds of the group collapse within a year or two so they have a pretty high mortality rate. Most those that make it to five years old don't last or 10. Only a few last like this one.”
Since their prime years, Sunburst has dwindled to two dozen members. Things look very different now from when the group first started in 1969.
The old hills are the same, green and bright and rolling on over thousands of acres of property. Horses graze in the field and overgrown filaree flow in the breeze beneath rooms built of red cob. Several large buildings sit on hills, a log-cabin, a church, and houses, dotting the mountains.
A small garden of tomatoes and squash is the only reminder of the glory years when the group spearheaded a large-scale organic foods operation. Gone are the goats and sprawling orchards of lemon and avocado. Even their last remaining ranch is on the market.
Sunburst Then & Now
Harvesting and Agriculture (Courtesy of Patty Paulsen)
Sunburst Members
Spiritual Prayer
Reckoning with the Past
Weathered hands shake as Al King holds his coffee cup. He sports a cowboy hat, a large pair of sunglasses and a slight smirk. “It’s been a wonderful life, but it’s had its challenges and not everyone saw the vision,” he says.
He and his wife Dawn King are long-time members. Dawn is celebrating her 50th year in the community. To them Sunburst is community. It’s where they met and got married.
But there was a time when Dawn thought the community would not survive.
“I remember thinking, is it all going to fall apart around me?” she says.
Sunburst's Spirituality
Such a thought came when members started having families. Like most intentional communities, sharing resources is common. Everyone worked and shared money equally. But once people started having their own families, conflicts arose over how things were distributed.
With the natural foods empire shrinking, and the death of their leader, the community could have collapsed.
David Adolphsen believes it survived because of members’ commitment to spirituality.“The secret ingredient to Sunburst is that we meditate together,” he says.
But Dawn also believes that things didn’t fall apart because Norman left a detailed plan for the community before he died.
A New Leader
Paulsen snaps carrots and taps them on the metal bars of the horse enclosure. Chestnut horses raise their heads as she calls their names. She strokes their heads and laughs as they nuzzle her in excitement. “I used to ride twice a day,” she says, “but my life is so different now.”
Grieving over the loss of her husband, she had a new role to fill. One she hadn’t expected.
She sits cross-legged on a yoga mat on her porch, her posture straight and relaxed. Sheltered from the rays of the afternoon sun, her house on the hill offers a perfect view of the horse stables, where she often spent her time before her role in the community changed.
Patty and Norman Paulsen
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“ I felt like I was walking into a new life,” she says, “I was so much more outside with the horses and the trees and that all changed. And now I’m totally focused on trying to make sure Sunburst is moving in the right direction.”
Now Sunburst members assume various leadership roles, Including serving on a human resources team. Norman laid out a plan to carry on without him, but not everyone agreed with his decisions.
“They could not handle only a woman being the director and a couple of them left,” she says.
She enacted some changes. When another member asked her if a woman had ever been enlightened, she was thrown aback.
“I don’t want people to get caught up in the physical form of things,” she said.
So she removed the pictures of all the men hanging in the mediation room, in an effort to be more inclusive.
“ I thought maybe it was distracting and made it difficult for people to fully relate,” she says.
Inside the lodge, a large cabin on the hill, more artifacts of the past are on display.. A collection of framed photographs hang on a wall. At the center is an image of several young people with hands clasped together in motion, circling a may-pole in the middle of an open field.
But to Paulsen, Sunburst is more than a place, and it’s more than its past.
“Everyone thinks that we are stuck in the 70s,” she says, her strawberry blonde pony tail bobbing. “When we had nothing other than a dream.”
Paulsen is more focused on the future.
“Keeping that dream alive doesn't mean we don't have a dream today, but we have a foundation to work on with a dream that has matured.”
Sunburst Now
Inside the meditation circle, rows of hands raise outstretched palms facing outwards, followed by the hum of the crowd.
“Send out your good energy to our friend that is leaving us,” Paulsen says as she rubs her hands together rapidly before extending her arms outward.
Over the past few years, farewells became commonplace.Not a case of bad blood, but because members are retiring. Some to other parts of California, Oregon and even Hawaii.
“I just felt heartbroken,” King says, when close friends of hers retired.
And as the group ages, worries abound about the future of Sunburst.
“We need the next generation of people to keep this going, ” Paulsen says.
With over 600 followers on Instagram and recorded zoom meetings available on their website, Paulsen sees a growing online community.
But Patty knows it will take more than that for Sunburst to have a future.
“There's something so special about working together, meditating together.”
Intentional community expert Bill Metcalf was surprised to find they were still operating. He says that once less sharing happens, a group typically falls apart. And since members live in separate houses there is a degree of separation that happens. It’s a common pattern of communities like this.
“It's not inevitable that they will close down,” Metcalf says. “But that would be my prediction.”
Sunburst members resting on a hike overlooking the property.
Community
Although membership dwindled, a strong sense of community among remaining members remains. Dawn King is celebrating her 50th year living in the community.
“I just felt like I would be here forever. And there were other people that felt that way, too,” King says.
Sunburst still has an allure, and attracted members even after Norman’s death.
Elena Anderson went to a retreat with her husband for a weekend. She hadn’t thought much about intentional communities but she wanted to tap into their spirituality side. And when her yoga instructor recommended it, she thought it would be a good get away.
“I was like, I felt myself just shedding everything. I don't know how or why, but I feel like I was. I felt like I was home with my people,” she says.
Elena was relieved to hear her husband felt the same way.
“I didn’t want to leave. I knew when I met the people that were like the people that I wanted to be like, that this was my home. This was where I needed to be,” he said, holding back tears.
In the afternoon sunshine, the rose garden carries a heavy perfume. Members of the community pull old wicker chairs together. Between the shuffle of paper plates and sips of Chai, there is laughter. The patio is crowded by the congregation and Paulsen can scarcely move from one end of the garden without members stopping her for a hug or hearty welcome.
“Community has been the backbone of helping me make things happen in my life,” she says. “It gives me purpose,” Paulsen believes community is more crucial than ever.
“It’s important right now in this world for people to learn to live together and understand one another, she says. “If people are willing and have that desire to live together and find out who they really are then they have the power to create a heaven on this Earth.”
What drew me to Sunburst.
What drew me to Sunburst
As a child, I romanticized my life. I believed in angels. Not the kind with wings and halos. I believed people could be angels, that people were good. Maybe something in the cosmos linked us together. I believed people I encountered in life were put there on purpose and certain things were meant to be.
I happily looked through life with rose-colored lenses, like I was the main character. I grew up lonely. And maybe this was my own way to feel more connected to people. So when I found Sunburst, I saw myself in the people there.
People are drawn to an alternate way of life in a slightly mysterious way they couldn’t describe. An intuition pulled people to a place where they made their visions a reality. When Patty Paulsen spoke about traveling across the country on a whim, it sounded like a journey I wish I had the courage to take. It bordered on the fantastical, a slice of fiction.
Their community became a natural foods empire, built ships and hosted over 300 people who followed their intuition to the hills of Santa Barbara.. A magical quality at Sunburst seemed to make these things possible. Perhaps each person on their own may have felt lost, but together, their dreams could be realized.
And to a lonely, only child, that resonated with me. And I wanted to know more about these people who so many others dismissed as a utopian pipe dream.
Sunburst faithfuls will tell you they have stuck together because of their beliefs and commitment to spirituality. But, through my time with them, their commitment to each other stands out as a powerful unifying force. This community has stood the test of time because its members share a vision.
Their vision might elude most of us.The people of Sunburst can see angels, and feel energy. When you spend several weekends with them, as I did, you sense a magnetism pulling together individuals who have a certain outlook on life. In their own way, the people of Sunburst created their own "heaven on Earth".
— Shayla Escudero