Shires aren’t only to be found in J. R. R. Tolkien film adaptations or serving as suffixes appending the names of quaint English villages.
As of early 2022, Marin’s own magical Mt. Tamalpais has a shire of its own: Dharmashire. (Pronounced with a hard “i”.)
Nestled in a historic tract of forest on one of the older trails of Muir Woods—overlooking Mill Valley below and even offering views of the distant Sierra Nevadas on a clear day—a modern and minimalist sanctuary on Mt. Tam awaits those seeking connection, stillness or just relaxation.
A distinctive characteristic of the San Francisco Bay Area, and undeniably of the North Bay, is how the region’s rootedness in nature inspires ever-evolving explorations of human purpose and practice. Put another way, for residents and visitors alike, Mt. Tam is a transcendent experience, utterly unique in the world.
Surrendering
It was when our world was in the 2020 triple-grip of a pandemic, recession and chaotic administration that Dharmashire founder and owner Tom Lamar found himself ungrounded in collisions of loss.
“I was coming up on 55, and my daughter was approaching 23 and leaving home,” Lamar recounts. “Suddenly, I was an empty nester. A long-term relationship had ended. It was COVID, and like all of us, a few good friends passed away, some of whom I couldn’t visit. And, my dear mother passed away.”
Decades before, at just 23 years of age, Lamar lost his 55-year-old father. The weight of this compounded an overall sense of untethering.
“I was just kind of like: Enough, enough, enough,” he says.
Originally from Atlanta, GA, Lamar is a designer and skilled craftsperson, in addition to being the executive director of Inventure Institute and a longtime technology leader.
“There I was, living on a houseboat I rented in Sausalito, and I was paddle-boarding every day,” says Lamar. “Since moving to Marin, I had just rented, and I realized during all of this [the pandemic] just how ungrounded I felt.”
Lamar, like so many North Bay inhabitants, is passionate about the land, a nature lover who had always owned farms, parcels of wilderness and culturally significant properties.
Intentional letting go in that acute pandemic period of loss led Lamar to creating Dharmashire—if the finding of it was (not) entirely unintentional. He had taken a sabbatical to Death Valley, fasting and meditating for five days at a stretch. Back in Marin, he kept paddle-boarding. Then, one day, he ran into a friend and real estate professional, Logan Link, in town who mentioned that he should check out a very unique property on Mt. Tam.
Recalls Lamar, “I had seen it online before, and it was in a part of Muir Woods I didn’t think I was interested in, but I said okay, let’s go look. I had said: I surrender to whatever comes my way.”
The one-acre property had two historic dwellings that, while fundamentally habitable, were in need of restoration. Though it was surrounded by an additional six acres of natural preserve, its condition and a somewhat obscure location (between the Pipeline Trail and the Cypress Trail), a 15-minute walk from the Mountain Home Inn, perhaps explained why no offers had been made in the 40 days it was on the market.
Perhaps.
Discovering
When Lamar visited, he says that yearslong threads of personal seeking and patterns of living with the land suddenly intertwined into a vision, as if passing through (the eye of the) needle.
“We’ve all seen the famous TED Talk where Simon Sinek talks about finding your Why—your purpose,” begins Lamar. “I’m meant to preserve this historical Marin space, help support connection with nature and offer inspiration to those who visit or pass by on the trail down the hill.”
For many years he owned and stewarded another “Shire,” a wooded expanse in the Nantahala National Forest in Highlands, North Carolina, a part of historic Cherokee lands. (As for “shire,” here’s something for the etymology nerds: shire, sheriff and reeve all share old English roots, with the shire part being the wholly positive bit. More protection and solace, less Sheriff of Nottingham and corruption of power.)
Though the Dharmashire plan did not initially include a rental option, the now historically restored property has organically developed into a place for purpose-led community focused visitors. “Place is my purpose,” Lamar says simply. “It’s funny because I set out to find my ‘Why,’ but it was in the process of not pursuing anything that I found it.”
For Lamar, it is the practice of community development grounded in a place. The lessons and rewards have been profound.
There were frequent cancellations in the early months, when Lamar provided the space at no charge, and he realized the community was letting itself down by not taking advantage of the free space. He began charging, though with no small amount of trepidation at the prospect of the kind of laborious management that things like bookings and billing and customer service issues tend to require.
“Hesitantly, I turned it into a fee-based space with a donation of the last week of every month to some local educational, spiritual community driven cause for the first year,” Lamar notes.
To his surprise and delight, the potential hassles he worried about “have not been my experience at all,” he says. “In fact, it has changed my life dramatically.”
Creating
After his modest offer was eagerly accepted, Lamar wasted no time bringing new life to both Dharmashire—a log home—and the historic Mt. Tam hot dog stand above it.
Yes, that’s correct. What was once a working hot dog stand serving hungry turn-of-the-century Pipeline Trail hikers and workers is now Sanghashire, Lamar’s personal residence (though guests are permitted on a special basis). The views from both dwellings are so breathtaking as to be almost otherworldly.
Both structures have been expertly renewed in minimalistic style, with modern amenities applied as functionally and sparingly as possible, to let the beauty and energy of the place transport visitors spiritually and emotionally—or, as the website charmingly assures, to just let one relax.
What began with no seeking at all has quickly taken on a community of life that seems to know its own mission. In our lengthy conversation, Lamar recounts dozens of warm memories and serendipitous connections between himself, guests and the Marin community. Folks come to restore their marriages, heal from trauma, form deeper connections, learn and rest. A cherished leather-bound guest book already has more than 100 entries.
Says Lamar: “As we transition from the analog world to the digital world down and back under the ground, it’s about being rooted in simplicity and the unseen mycelium-like connections between people, rather than what you can see on social media.”
Though he maintains his engagement with the tech world of the Bay Area, the events and group stays Lamar facilitates at Dharmashire—from those in generational transitions to the Modern Elder Academy to Dharma talks with yoginis and yogis—expressly serve to reconnect people with each other and nature in the era of Big Tech. Lamar has been able to acquire a third historic cabin, and now hundreds of guests have enjoyed the transformative experience of Dharmashire.
To learn more about Dharmashire, including visiting and booking a stay or an event, go to dharmashire.com. All images and web design courtesy of Anastasia Kai and Dharmashire.
