When you pass through the welcome gate and into Burning Man, one of the first things you'll receive is a guide detailing the events of the upcoming week. It will be your first real glimpse of what's to come and you'll likely peruse through it in disbelief. A margarita drinking party for clowns and kings wearing crowns, a channel your spirit animal yoga class at sunrise, a jazz jam session on top of a tie-dye double decker bus serving wine, glass blowing, fire throwing, a hiney hygiene station for your crack when it gets dusty (yes, someone will wipe it for you), an air-conditioned orgy dome in case voyeurism (and exhibitionism) are your thing, a chili cookin' competition...the list goes on. As you're reading through it, you'll start getting excited. "I gotta do that and that and that and ooo that!" To you I say, good luck. You'll learn quickly, the guide isn't intended to guide. More than anything, it's intended to inspire; to put the potential for exploration at the festival into perspective.
Like in Vegas, time doesn't exist at Burning Man. Distractions lead to other distractions; days melt into nights which melt into days. You'll inevitably get lost in the Playa and after a few days you'll realize that an agenda's not only futile, it's unnecessary. You'll find what you need most, when you need it most. Soon enough the idea of being anywhere other than where you are, or planning anything other than what flows spontaneously, will seem laughable. Cultivating presence has never been easier.
No comments:
Post a Comment