|Hooping my way across the open playa.|
I drove out onto an ancient lake bed doing my very best to have zero expectations.
Did it change my life? You bet it did. Because I let it. Just like I let the five minute conversation with one of my kids change my life last month. In the same way my husband and I let our complete life re-arrange and move across state lines change our lives three years ago. The same way a small card in the mail on one of my worst days completely and totally changed my life on a random day one spring. The same way just looking at the stars or rising sun many, many times has changed my life.
Because I let it.
I try really hard not to miss "it." And Burning Man was dozens of those moments every three minutes. Really. Sometimes you had to look away or sit and focus on one thing because you were overloaded with interesting. It was also quiet. Frivolous. Exhilarating. Painful. Dusty. Tactile. Mind-blowing. Mournful. Dusty. Loud. Abundant. Organic. Dusty. Lovely. Home.
I have noticed, in the 48 hours I've been back, most of my talk has been about the stuff I saw out there. The creativity is truly unbelievable and probably the easiest thing to help people understand and connect with. The art and the talent and the gifts certainly had an impact on me, but ... big shocker ... it was the people that touched my heart. I did not live any differently out there than I do at home, and I started to realize that I was living in a city of 50,000-ish people who (for the most part) also try to function in the same way. Ya' know ... as best they can ... with a fair sprinkling, of course, of pain and hurt and douchebaggery. It was perfect in its imperfection.
I will write more as I continue to re-acclimate. I know not everyone cares, so my posts will be more for me than anyone else. However, I hope you will realize this isn't actually about TTID (That Thing In the Desert). It's about how we wake up every single day. It's about how we structure our hearts and lives no matter how those around us choose to structure their hearts and lives.
Burning Man is special. Certainly. Yet, it solidified that I was already functioning on its principles and heartbeat while homeschooling five kids out in the country, married to one of the local school teachers. If I can spend years reworking myself so that I function like that out in the sticks ... why can't you?
Burning Man didn't make it happen.