LETTING GO AT BURNING MAN
What is Burning Man? A friend recently asked this on Facebook, and the replies were hilarious. My favorite: “where all the questionable people go to give the rest of the world a break.”
I just returned from my first time. I went in as an observer, ready to analyze the spectacle from a safe distance. I was braced for the infamous challenges: the long trek into the dust, setting up camp, the porta-potties, the sleep deprivation, and the apocalyptic sandstorms. For the first two days, that’s all I saw. I was clinging to my comfort, mentally fighting the environment, and waiting for the “magic” to happen on its own.
It never does. The magic doesn’t find you; you have to surrender to it.
I realized I had no choice but to let go. Not just accept the conditions, but embrace them. The dust wasn't an inconvenience; it was the fabric of the place. The lack of sleep wasn't a hardship; it was a different rhythm. This conscious release was the key that unlocked everything. Suddenly, the overwhelming sense of joy and freedom I’d heard about washed over me.
Is Burning Man for Everyone?
Honestly, no. I thought of friends who struggle to break their routine or leave their comfort zone. They could benefit immensely, but only if they went willing to be transformed. Someone with severe OCD might be so focused on the lack of control that they’d miss the point entirely. The entire experience is designed to strip away your expectations and limitations, forcing you to open up. People burn for countless reasons: spiritual quests, creative inspiration, social acceptance, or simply to continue the party from Ibiza to the playa. I was just curious, arriving with no expectations but an open mind.
“Letting go” means something different to everyone. For some, it’s releasing trauma or emotional baggage. For me, it was surrendering the anxiety of being completely disconnected from my responsibilities and my everyday world. It was my biggest challenge.
But a beautiful thing happens when you let go: you become present. You actually listen to people, not just the noise in your own head. You’re not alone with your thoughts because you’re constantly engaging with others sharing the same transformative journey. Incredible connections form effortlessly.
Our camp became my anchor. As much as I loved venturing out alone to explore the staggering art cars like Robot Heart and Mayan Warrior, or losing myself to the music at Disco Knights and my absolute favorite, Campi Camp, I always looked forward to returning. I felt a profound connection to my community.
The Burn: A Celebration of the Now, Not the New
Many compare the burning of the Man at the end of the wee to New Year's Eve. I’ve always hated New Year's—the forced fun, the pressure for resolutions, the obsessive look ahead.
Watching the Man burn was different. It wasn’t about the past or the future; it was a roaring, radiant celebration of the present. Standing there, fully immersed in the sensory overload, surrounded by my community, I felt a profound happiness. I was exactly where I was supposed to be.
That was my ultimate lesson in letting go: releasing the past, ignoring the future, and learning, finally, to just enjoy the now.
Thank you, Burning Man. Thank you to the artists whose breathtaking installations transformed the desert. Thank you to the volunteers who built this temporary city. Thank you, Campi Camp, for the beats that fueled my soul. And thank you to my friends, new and old, for making this one of the most amazing and unforgettable experiences of my life.