2. There Is No ME in COMMUNITY, But Almost

My 2nd post in a series about the 25th anniversary of Burning Man a.k.a. my virgin burn. Scroll down for the 1st post if you don't understand how blogs work...haha.

Knowing about Burning Man is like having a personal recommendation from a likeminded friend. It's advertised solely by word of mouth. With yoga, meditation, spirituality workshops, and a focus on environmentalism, BM draws people who are on a spiritual quest of sorts. World-famous DJs and musicians aren’t announced ’til just beforehand, so there aren’t amateurs going just for the rave. It seems almost everyone's there for a higher purpose. 

Photo by Hugo Groening

The sense of camaraderie one feels at Burning Man is not just heartwarming but is critical for survival. In the high desert, you're contending with extreme heat, lack of resources, and a 4,000-foot elevation that makes it easy to feel out of breath and lightheaded. (Bonus: you get drunker, faster.) Dehydration and exhaustion are real risks while biking or walking on a thousand degree day. Black Rock City (BRC) is a huge circle 1.5 miles in diameter--and getting stranded far from camp is common. Bikes are “borrowed” and lost, and freewheeling on an art car might land you on the far side. Bikes, golf carts, and cars get stuck or need repair, and people run out of necessities. These issues are dealt with as a community. For the most part, it's ok to burst into someone's campsite and ask for water or a snack. Burners hang signs declaring “out of water” or “need rv service,” and they just might thank their savior with a delicious meal, a bottle of Jack, or a massage. One camp I visited was the Filling Station, a rest stop on long journeys. They hooked me up with lemonade, a quesadilla, and a misting, and offered public tents for anyone who needed to sleep. Working together, everyone gets what they need.

Even the art projects encourage cooperation. My first night out, I noticed a young guy holding a beer and sitting on a wooden contraption. He was so perfectly still that I thought he was part of the installation, waiting to jump out at me or something. Finally, I said, "Hi, do you...what are you...oh, is this a teeter totter?" My participation was required! No ordinary playground toy, it swiveled 360-degrees while also moving up and down. He lit up so happy that he was screaming (hallucinogens probably played a role) and his laughter was totally contagious. No one cared that he spilled beer all over or that he could've gotten hurt when he fell off.

Photo by mccullagh.org

BM's focus on radical self-expression means burners are allowed to do almost anything--climb on structures or art installations, spin fire, tear off all their clothing, have sex--at any time. In the Mad Max Thunderdome you can even beat up your friends, spouse, and anyone who annoys you before a bloodthirsty crowd. Swinging in harnesses, gladiators battle with foam bats while an MC heckles them. Three things you can’t do in BRC, though, are sell drugs, sleep on the roadway (Briar discovered this), or lay on top of a moving RV (learned when police stopped us on entry. Ha).

Everyone I met was enlightened on some level. We talked quantum physics, discussed life-changing books and movies, pulled oracle cards, cried with strangers, fell in and out of love instantly, and told random people they have beautiful souls. The 2nd day, during an orgasmic breathing workshop hosted by the Erotic Rock Star, we attracted an audience of about 30 cheering us on. I had a huge wave of emotions come up that I didn’t feel safe releasing, especially not as some kind of spectacle for bystanders. A woman beelined over to me and said if I needed to move through anything, she’d hold space for me or give me a hug or talk or listen or whatever. I had needed permission and safety, which she’d given. So I let out a startling scream, beat the shit out of someone’s pillow, cried big sobs, yelled at people to stop looking, and it was perfect. A guy sat down, looked at me with these intense blue eyes, and said in a European accent, “You need a hug.” He could’ve tried to hook up with me, an emotionally vulnerable half-naked girl who's into tantra. But he knew not to. He hugged me, and left.

Rad group from San Diego called Super Kids!

It was because of this sense of community that I felt safe riding to BM with people I’d never met. I was the only girl in a carful of guys and at no time did I feel uncomfortable about it. In fact, I was party to our picking up a hitchhiker on the way home. Our driver had just said that he had wandered on foot down this same desolate road years ago when someone was nice enough to give him a ride. Suddenly, a young hitchhiker appeared. Now was time to repay the favor. The kid was a student from France who was hiking solo through the mountains. He rode with us 3 hours while I slept next to him, unconcerned about a total stranger in my space.

Since getting home, I’ve found an immediate connection with anyone who’s ever burned, because they get it. Even people who've never been to the playa work on art projects, planning, and fundraising throughout the year because they so love being a part of this community. Burning Man is not just an annual event, it’s a lifestyle, a state of mind, a philosophy, and a club of permanent membership. Burners for life, yo!