Rites of Passage
It’s 6am in Black Rock City as I type this post out on my ziplock-encased iPhone. Covered from head to toe in playa dust and wrapped up in my coat of armor on this cool morning, I’m sitting on the bumper of a dusty trailer near center camp, hoping the wifi will last long enough to upload this post.
The man this year is multicolored. His colors match the beautiful sunrise just behind him. He is frozen in mid-step, stepping from one pyramid tip to another, to signify Rites of Passage, the Burning Man 2011 theme.
Rites of Passage, joyous and sometimes painful life changing events. Life is struggle. Life is ever-changing. Life is joy. Life is pain. Life is love. Life is loss. Life is sorrow. Life is wondrous.
When trapped in the darkness of heartbreak, trying to come to grips with the reality that your beloved gave up on you, that somehow you didn’t mean quite enough for them to try, life seems rather bleak. The mornings are the hardest. Facing another day with that truth. Flooded with memories of their kindness, their kiss. Haunted by what could’ve been. Knowing it could’ve been so beautiful if they just hadn’t given up, especially a budding relationship, where so much was yet undiscovered, unrevealed.
The sounds around me gradually get louder as the city begins to wake up. A red neon Trojan Horse lights the northern end of this magical city that appears, and then disappears, once every year. It, like everything, ends, but the knowledge that it will be here again next year is comforting.
Uncertainty is not. Yet what is life if not uncertain? I look each day, seeking the nearly nonexistent Internet in the middle of this desert to see if there is any sign of integrity, any sign that it wasn’t all a lie, any sign that tells me I meant something. That I am not so easily cast aside.
And everyday there is nothing.
Forgive the lack of focus in this post, but focus is something that has been fleeting at best for quite some time now. With some luck, more tears, and a lot of work, I will heal out here in this harsh desert. The sun will burn away my lingering hope. The alkaline dust will absorb the last of my love. And the energy of 50,000 people living and loving freely will repair my fractured soul.
Please send me your healing thoughts, friends. I’m quite weary of crying & lamenting the loss of a man to whom I obviously meant so very little.