I wondered if taking Makena to a fundraiser was going to be an acceptable way to spend our monthly Daddy-Daughter Date Night last Saturday. If it had been any other fundraiser, it might not have gone over so well. But because this was a fundraiser put on by Burners, it was a night my daughter will never forget.
This week’s “zombie” post reminded me that writing this blog can be fun, and it occurred to me that, lately, this blog has had more emphasis on the “serious” and less on the “silly”. And the last thing I want this blog to be is something that makes people think, “Jeez, that guy’s gotten so preachy – what happened to the days when Terry was fun?”
I like to think that this blog is just a reflection of my real life, and I try to write as truthfully and transparently as possible. And the space I’m in on my journey does seem to place a lot of emphasis on the spiritual, on admitting my human frailty and flaws, on the awakening consciousness — and all that shit. But as evidenced by that last sentence, I like to laugh, I like to be offbeat, and I like to be weird. And I don’t want to lose sight of that just because I happen to be growing up mentally, emotionally, and spiritually.
So it is with this in mind that I give you — the random musings jotted down in my little pink journal that I carried with me everywhere at Burning Man this year. Similar to last year’s “P.S. Bullet Points” post, these notes are occasionally cryptic even to me, but most are linked to one-of-a-kind experiences that will never come my way again, thus making them priceless memories. Read On
I know I said I had posted my final comments on Burning Man, but while unpacking my gear from the trip, I came across the little notebook I kept in my backpack during my time in Black Rock City. I carried it with me so that if I encountered something or someone that I wanted to remember, I could write it down in the book.
In reading through my notes, some of them are so cryptic I can’t recall what exactly they were referring to. Some, on the other hand, are quite clear (to me, anyway) and the memories associated with them are priceless.
But the collection of thoughts and words looks so intriguingly bizarre on paper that I thought I would share them here. So here you have it: my Burning Man experience described in bullet points: Read On
A canyon is where I received it, and a canyon is where I let it go.
I make the pilgrimage to the Temple with my offering in my bag. My hope is to achieve a symbolic release, to let go of the past, as that is basis of the message I have been receiving for the better part of the past year: let go. Everyone has advice for me on how to deal with divorce. Many have walked that path before me, and I find myself seeing them in a new light. I am grateful for their counsel, even if some of it (“Man, the best way to get over one woman is to get under another one”) is not exactly pearly wisdom. I know they mean well.
The sun is low in the afternoon sky as I make my way across the desert floor to the wooden structure known as the Temple of Flux. Upon seeing it for the first time, I am reminded of canyons: it rises from the playa in a whitewashed swirl of plywood, rounded and uneven, natural lines and rustic shapes that do, actually, look like canyon walls.
The name alone speaks to me, for I am, indeed, a man in flux. The canyon-like appearance, though – that is just too much to be coincidence. A canyon is where I received it. This does not feel like random chance. It seems to be a message to me. A message that came down from the eye of the Universe in a flash of light, straight to planet Earth, hurtling towards the western portion of the North American continent and the rugged Nevada desert to come to a silent, peaceful impact in the middle of a prehistoric lake bed, waiting for my dusty boots to carry me down the temporary street to the space where this man-made canyon sits awaiting my arrival. I am one of thousands of others here for similar purpose, and yet this Temple holds a message just for me. A message of light from Beyond that tells me, “This is the place. This is the place where you can go through.” Read On