It’s been so long and time took me far from you here.
Burning man is finally done, or at least the playa part is. The cleaning up and recovery and putting away is underway. And it wasn’t anything like what I’d expected.
I’d read a million blogs and spend a million hours pouring over preparations and debating the benefits and detractions of a million tiny choices, and then finally, after months of work getting it together and work on a theme camp and work on a meditation chapel, our gift to the playa, we were there.
To say we worked hard is hilariously inadequate. This was not a vacation.
Traveler and I worked 18 hour days on average in the dust and sun and heat. We limped wearily to our camp and often ate and went straight to bed, exhausted and dirty and tired. We didn’t stink because the desert won’t let anything grow, but it was so harsh our wounds didn’t heal either. That splinter got infected and that bruise just kept surfacing day after weary day. Muscles I could not name pulled and snapped and ached. My temper wore thin and I reacted poorly. Traveler had his own emotional toil. Quinky Girl too.
Both of them will come to it and to you when they are ready and not a second sooner and I tried to just love them and let them come to me in their own time, respecting the process, but it’s not my strong suit and I wanted to wrap them up with every hurt and cradle them, protecting them from everything. It was harsh.
The dust is a desiccant and it steals your moisture from your eyes and nose and mouth and skin. My hands cracked. My heels bled a little and I wasn’t even wearing sandals. It was just the blisters. Nothing survives. Well, almost nothing.
Storms and dust and wind and bone aching tired I haven’t known except since my Army days.
And it was all so eerily beautiful. Continue reading