I like having control. I’m good at anticipating what will happen and planning accordingly. So I practiced taking responsibility for my actions while letting go of the outcome this year. Burning Man is like the Project Manager Olympics because the weather, schedules, comfort, workshops, friends, and music are unreliable. It makes the job nearly impossible and yet essential for survival. This post is for worriers, control freaks, or anyone who has to manage events, people, projects, or manage themselves. It’s hard to let go.
This year at Burning Man was wonderful because it wasn’t amazing or transformative and it didn’t rock my world. I went in and came out knowing I’m in a good place these days. I practiced letting go of micromanaging myself and my future experiences. It was very cold and dusty, but I had a nice time. I think I’ll do it again.
We built our shade structure five times. The wind tore it down five times. When the dust kicked up all we could do is watch the wind shred apart our shelter pick ourselves and it up again.
By the third storm we had at least made it through our big Tutu Tuesday party. The temporality of Burning Man continues to teach me how anticipating everything that could happen takes me away from what is happening. I love this photo of my camp totally unposed goofing around loving each other. I learned to lay on the grass, happily gaze up into blue sky peeking between the jewel toned wind jammers and let my mind wander. At any moment another dust storm could come to take it all away. What a shame if I had spent all the calm moments worrying about losing it. So we had some fun.
The moment before the camera clicks, when a draft is still being written, and just before something is launched is less composed far more interesting. I learned to pay attention to the moments of transition. These are the moments that serve as a window into how things are. It’s very important to find stillness. But if we only paid attention to what’s happening when things are quiet, we would miss what’s happening at all.
I was supposed to leave Burning Man early but ended up on the Playa for 9 days. I had an important wedding in Chicago Labor Day weekend and no way out of Burning Man. I ponied up a lot of cash and pretty complex logistics to get myself from the dust to her ceremony. I anticipated possibly losing my mind at Burning Man and scheduled my itinerary down to the minute: when to set the alarm, when to leave the hotel room, when to call the cab to the airport, when I need to be at the gate. I actually drove myself pretty nuts pulling to together, but I was determined to get in a full burn and make it to the wedding. The dust had another plan.
On Wednesday my friend and I went for a bike ride and the strong winds took us to the Planetarium at the edge of the Playa. The weather never died down and we biked against the wind home. It was so rough I threw my back out. I found someone with cell service, texted my mom to tell the bride I couldn’t come. I felt embarrassed for micromanaging myself an exodus plan that ended up not mattering. Immobile, I was carried into our dome and for two days stared at the sticker on the ceiling with a cartoon pickle saying “Dill with it.”
No cellphone, no book, and nothing really to do. When I could finally lift my head, I could peer out the window of our dome and watch Burning Man happen around me. I came to enjoy being bored at one of the most interesting places on earth. I listened to art cars come and go and snippets of odd conversations while drifting in and out of naps. And every so often calling out something strange into the megaphone. Burning Man is actually a wonderful place to be injured. You have a community of smart, kind friends and strangers who also have time and desire to help.
I let myself let go of my guilt for missing such an important wedding. I let go of all the parties I missed, art I didn’t see, strangers I never met, and friends I never got to visit. On Friday I went out for my only night of dancing and found all the things I let go of. Burning Man has shaped the who is in my life and how I live it. It wasn’t life changing, it wasn’t incredible, nor transformative.
The Playa is no longer a place for me to to figure things out, that’s what living my life is for. The conditions of the playa create circumstances that help me see myself and the nature of Burning Man itself lets it be a benchmark in time. It’s a marvelous place for reflection.
I’m designer, manager, and organization enthusiast. I care a lot about how things come together and how the play out. You can’t hold onto a dust storm and tell it when and where to show up. So when it comes, and it will come, I may just let it come and then let it go.
More lessons from the Playa
2014 What burners can learn from not going to Burning Man
2013 What families can learn from Burning Man
2012 What small teams can learn from Burning Man
2011 What designers can learn from Burning Man