1. The Burning Man Playa, a Place of Instant Manifestation

Burning Man can't be dumbed down into a blog or two, but here's my attempt at a series about the 25th anniversary of BM a.k.a. my virgin burn. Rites of Passage theme was appropriate as I was devirginized and released my past...

Anyone who's had the fortune of visiting the playa in Nevada knows it's a mystical place unlike anywhere else on the planet. It's a flat, dry silt bed devoid of life for hundreds of square miles. No vegetation, no animals, few insects. Days well over 100 degrees and nights down to 40 in summer, snow in winter. Yet for a couple weeks each year, this harsh environment is infused with the energy of loving, beautiful, open-minded people who build a non-commerce community there. Gifting is the spirit of Burning Man.

Aerial view

Something I found immediately observable is that once your attachment to money, competition, and the me-first philosophy is ended--and you start giving from the self--everything you need just gravitates to you. I wanted to pop my BM cherry wholeheartedly and wholebodiedly, through volunteering and donations. I participated in the virgin ritual at the entrance, dropped down in the dust and professed my love for the playa. The playa reciprocated by manifesting what I desired from moment of arrival. At a granny cafe where ladies in grey wigs and nighties poured coffee and tea, I was contemplating why I'd brought 3 packs of bubble gum Orbit and no mint flavors. (It's little things that end up mattering there!) Randomly, a granny opened a can of peppermint sticks, came straight over, and offered me the first before passing the rest around. Another time while rocking out to a young, insane dubstep DJ named Hudson, I wished I had his demo CD. Hudson then got out two CDs, ran them over to me and the hot girl I was dancing with, and jumped back on the decks. Not to mention that whenever I needed water or a misting, I had it, plus root beer floats, s'mores, quesadillas. The only thing I wasn't empowered with was ice. It was too heavy, too far, too long a wait, too often.

Granny Cafe takes over skate ramps to race their walkers

The playa plays a huge part of the Burning Man experience and must be respected both energetically and physically. Burning Man isn't advertised and is held the first week of college classes so as not to attract immature partiers. And its Leave No Trace mantra must be followed by all, or the event could damage the habitat and get shut down. You can't pour hand-washing water or spit toothpaste there; you have to save it in buckets. Cig butts, glitter, anything not naturally of the playa is forbidden MOOP, or matter-out-of-place, that must be carried out. Which reminds me why I love burners (this is coming from the girl who founded and ran a neighborhood recycling club at age 9)...several times I found myself chasing a loose feather or wrapper, only to have someone else grab it before I could. =) And one night I picked up a sand-packed lighter that was dead. The last day when I couldn't find mine, the lighter I intended to throw away suddenly worked--another gift!

Photo by Scott Haefner

Consistently, the playa supported me, rejuvenated me, and forced me to consider me and what I needed, be it electrolytes or a bike to borrow or another slathering of sunblock or a siesta. Mad love to all the virgin burners who got it this year, to all those who repped San Diego, and to the teams who help restore the playa...that's how the playa continues to love and restore us.