wakeangel

Below is just about everything that I thought and felt at Burning Man this year. It was a difficult year for me in that I had a lot of thinking to do. Alot to let go of. Stay tuned for pictures.

Burning Man 2006

Tuesday:

It keeps going through my head, you're nothing special, you're not connected to anything. Not the Universe, nor the people around you. There is a moment when it all seems to come together. A singularity of sorts. That point in time and space when you are truly connected to something to everything. Then, in what seems like a half a heart beat it all blows apart in a flash. Curled up in a ball to protect yourself from the heat and light the pain and fear you are propelled from that place at a frightening speed. After awhile you look around and realize you're alone out here. On the outside of the spiral arm of a galaxy that represents humanity. Connected to nothing but the gravity at the center. That gravity is simply the need to not be alone. But each time you close your eyes you remember that moment, that singularity, when you really were connected to something, however briefly. And each night you wish and pray that you could escape your orbit and get closer to that bright center. But your orbit is your nature, it's who you are. I think some people manage to not get pushed so far out. Maybe they come to a stop so close to the center that they're able to be pulled back in. Others find themselves out on the fringes. And in the end all you can really hope for is when orbital pathes cross and you collide with some other body. You saw it coming, a bright streak in the night sky. A comet of such beauty and intensity you could only stare in wonder and hope. And when you saw it coming you hoped and prayed and said to yourself, "hit me... please!" It's happened before and it will happen again. But each time it did the impact was so deep it's shear force tore you into millions of pieces. Tiny fragments of you scattered so far about it seemed impossible that you would ever be whole again. After what seemed like an eternity gravity started to works it's magic and all those fragments of you began to come back together. But mixed in were bits of ice and dust that were not previously a part of you. They are the memories of that impact. Tiny fragments of that peson... tiny memories. Sometimes the impact is so great it completely alters the path of your orbit. You find yourself pointed in a new direction. Another eternity later you were whole again. You've forgotten all of this, of course. Because there you are, again, praying for another collission. Oblivious to the pain it will cause.

You can't escape your orbit



Wedensday:

With each passing moment the strands of love and hope break. The need to feel connected to something is growing and desire becomes stronger than reason (is this progress I wonder). Maybe sanity and reason mean nothing in the end. I should embrace this!

Later that day; I realize that one of the biggest problems I have is my lack of familial connections (there's that word again, connection). Each time a new person comes into my life I make that person a part of my family. Really, they become my family. This truly becomes a problem when I feel like I'm losing I'm losing this peson. I feel a sense of desperation. And that is an awful thing to feel. All of this ties into the notion that I only feel happy and have a sense of validation when there's a woman in my life. I have to figure out a way to get beyond this. I think I know where it stems from but I don't think I want to share it here. If you want to know then ask. My happiness shouldn't depend on someone else. Strength and wisdom are what I'm searching for. Strength through the knowledge that I can live and be happy without someone in my life.

Thursday I went out to the temple to say goodbye to the love that I had been carrying around for the last two years. To say goodbye in ashes and smoke. For many people it is a way to let go of things or people that have gone from their lives. Whether by death or, in my case, life. This is what I wrote while there. It's all so fucked up, isn't it? The things we do to ourselves in the name of memory. After all, doesn't it seem that memory is just another way we torture ourselvles. Even if we only remember the good things those memories bring an ache, a longing for those times with that person. This pain, this fear of memory, it just keeps coming. Will it ever stop? My whole life all I've ever wanted was to feel safe to feel connected to someone on every level. But I'm beginning to believe that this isn't possible. What's interesting is that this is counter to what I really need. Which is to feel safe and validated without those connections. Maybe this isn't really possible either. Or even wise for that matter. After all, it's human nature to need these things. Right now, I'm here at the temple and there is so much pain everywhere I look. I'm feeling so open, so empathetic to every one around me that I feel as though I'm taking on everyone's pain. Soaking it in... open wide. Monday night while I was riding around feeling sorry for myself I came across an art installation. It was a large wooden structure depicting a pregnant woman. At the center of her belly was a bundled up ball of red rope lights that represented a child. There seemed to be so much joy in this piece. On either side of the scupltre there were lean-to shelters. Inside one of the shelters there was a drawing on a piece of paper of another pregnant woman. However, where the child should have been there was only a black void. Under the drawing there was a note to a child that would never be born. All of the love and sorrow in this note cut me wide open and all I could do was weep for this peson's loss. It was then that I realized that what I was feeling, right then, was so insignificant when compared to what I had just read. To whomever left that goodbye I'm so sorry for your loss. My heart goes out to you. To the love I lost to the persuit of life, to a dream... it's time let it go.

Monday:

I learned something about myself last night. It was there all along and I just didn't see it. All it took was one very intuitive person to help me figure it out. She told me that maybe I put too many of my eggs in one basket emotionally (her words). She's right of course. Looking back over the things I've written this last week I saw that it was right there. It's time I start investing emotion into other relationships. I mentioned earlier in the week that I needed to learn to stand on my own but that this is, perhaps, not entirely possible. Learning to put trust in other relationships will be difficult because my family cannot be relied upon for this. But, I do have friends that can be. So I'll focus on them.

It's Monday and I'm about to leave the Playa for another year. The question is, what did I get out of Burning Man this year. Evidently, I learned a few things about myself. This is a good thing! Did I get what I'd hoped for? Only time will tell. This week marked an anniversary of lost love. It been a year since Kari left. But really, it's been two years since our love started to die. She started to push me away when I proposed to her then, almost exactly two years ago. That's when our troubles really began. At the time I didn't realize how blessed I was that she said no. I understand that now. I understand that, maybe, just maybe, the peson I loved so much never really existed to begin with. That it's possible that what I truly loved was only an idea I had of her. People don't really change, they just become more of who they are. So it goes. This anniversary, I had hoped, would be a pivotal moment in my life. A moment when I let go of things that will never be mine. Or rather, things that will never be under my influence. And start working on things that are. I had hoped that some core changes, or at the very least, discoveries will would have been made. But only time will tell. The possibility of slipping back into old patterns exists for sure. This has been an emotional week for me. I've felt so much. Maybe even learned a few things about myself. I start this week in the hopes that I will have started a new chapter in my life. I've made new and wonderful friends that I intend to keep. These new people have come to mean so much to me They've made a deep impression and, hopefully, in some way, I have left a mark on them. I will miss them terribly and hope that it won't be a whole year before I see alot of them again. So, here we go. Let's open another chapter, shall we?

Thoughts and impressions, Burning Man 2006.

Upon reflection I realize that no I am not fully healed. I may never be. But maybe that's not such a bad thing. The damage done becomes a part of you no matter what. The point is to take that damage and turn it into something beautiful, something powerful. Scars can be ugly but with imagination there can be beautiful shapes and ideas in them just like when you look for shapes in clouds. Did I learn anything, indeed I did. I'm continuing to learn things from this past week, even now. Have I moved on? I've taken steps. Today I deleted all contact. I no longer have any phone numbers or email address'. If she has anything to say to me she'll have to make the effort. I'm not holding my breathe though. I know she's already moved on. What will I do next? There is work to be done, for sure. I want to do some things that will require alot of effort.

I'm proud to be a member of the Official Black Rock City Garnish (SUCKIE FUCKAYE!). I have two things to work on for next year. I will be spinning fire with the conclave next year (staff and comet). Seeing Michael, of the Garnish crew do this was inspiring. I promise, kids, next year we'll have an even more rad stage! I miss you all already. And so we come to the one thing about Burning Man that is truly difficult. Saying goodbye for another year. Everyone I talked to said that same thing. The feeling of loss when driving away from our city for another year in the default world. That sadness lingers for a bit afterwards it just can't be helped.