After a week of decompression, I can start to encapsulate the Burning Man 2008 experience. Reading through my journal entries, it's interesting the number of times I started a sentence something like: “Maybe that's the lesson to be learned from Bman.” I went into it with the determination to get as much out of it as possible, to endeavor to be part of the scene, to participate. It's not surprising, then, that I was looking to bring something back.
So, what were these numerous, yet singular, learnings? A sampling:
* We really do make our own reality. If you come out to Black Rock City and have a great experience (and that's “great” in the “impactful” sense, not the “party” sense), regardless of conditions, that's a powerful illustration.
* I now have a true appreciation of the structural utility and elegance of the ball bungee.
* In a raging dust storm, if you don't have a vehicle to retreat into, you might as well pull up chair, get a straw for your cup, and have a cocktail. You're not going to stay any cleaner in your tent anyway, so you might as well be “in it.”
* The raw unpleasantness that can permeate life on the Playa is a great tool for appreciating the simple pleasures of your life at home (yes, my default life is “home”). By the time you've decided to face the exodus, you don't mind spending how ever long it takes in your comfy car seat.
Those are all valuable, but after some time to reflect, I believe the most meaningful experience/lesson learned, the one that will make me pause next January to consider heading back to the Playa, is this: at it's best, the spirit of Burning Man is one of expansive generosity. It makes me smile to remember how I was kind of stressing out before the event about the money I was burning through, getting ready. I realize now that at least some of that investment was a kind of municipal contribution to Black Rock City. Like many, I over-packed for my own needs (and in anticipation of catastrophes that luckily didn't materialize), and instead found myself transferring that slack, that investment to my fellow citizens. Need extra ball bungees? Here's a dozen. Trying to build shade? I have extra tarps and rope you're welcome to. Having trouble getting your structure set up? Here, let me help.
How cool is it to have something as simple as attention, a hug, a beer, be a valued and appreciated gift? Yes, those things are often appreciated in the default world as well, but I submit that those gestures are amplified in a the commercial quiet of the Playa. Other gifts remind me of the broad definition of “treasure” we have when we're kids. One of my valued treasures from this year is a beautiful polished stone that I was given in return for helping a couple register their camp at Playa Info. I'll think about how nice they were, and what a sweet gesture of gratitude the stone is, every time I look at it. What a gift.
More to follow...
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