Burning Man started in 1985 on a beach in San Francisco, before moving to the Nevada desert.

“Our mission is to produce the annual event known as ‘Burning Man’ and to guide, nurture and protect the more permanent community created by its culture. Our intention is to generate society that connects each individual to his or her creative powers, to participation in community, to the larger realm of civic life, and to the even greater world of nature that exists beyond society. We believe that the experience of Burning Man can produce positive spiritual change in the world. To this end, it is equally important that we communicate with one another, with the citizens of Black Rock City and with the community of Burning Man wherever it may arise. Burning Man is radically inclusive, and its meaning is potentially accessible to anyone. The touchstone of value in our culture will always be immediacy: experience before theory, moral relationships before politics, survival before services, roles before jobs, embodied ritual before symbolism, work before vested interest, participant support before sponsorship. Finally, in order to accomplish these ends, Burning Man must endure as a self-supporting enterprise that is capable of sustaining the lives of those who dedicate themselves to its work. From this devotion spring those duties that we owe to one another. We will always burn the Man.” – Burning Man’s Mission statement

As I washed the remaining bits of Playa dust off my belongings, the term “post-Burn depression” started to settle into my conscious as a legitimate phenomenon. In fact, it started as soon as I turned on my iPhone and checked my mail. My mind was temporarily overtaken by a flurry of seemingly bitter and antagonistic emails about a community garden project I’ve been working on. For me, this seemed the very antithesis of the experience I had just been having in the middle of the Nevada desert at Burning Man. There, a culture based on gifting, sharing, art, creativity, and being yourself was the underlying ethos, making it all seem like a mini-utopia.

Before heading to Burning Man, I had only heard about it from a few friends, and their descriptions left me with more questions than answers. Ultimately, I got the sense it was a big hippy fest in the Nevada desert where everyone was on drugs and having orgies. While I have no doubt that all that actually happens, there”s also a lot more to the festival than that.

There are no rules about how one must behave or express oneself at this event (save the rules that serve to protect the health, safety, and experience of the community at large); rather, it is up to each participant to decide how they will contribute and what they will give to this community. The event takes place on an ancient lakebed, known as the playa. By the time the event is completed and the volunteers leave, sometimes nearly a month after the event has ended, there will be no trace of the city that was, for a short time, the most populous town in the entire county. Art is an unavoidable part of this experience, and in fact, is such a part of the experience that , founder of the Burning Man project, gives a theme to each year, to encourage a common bond to help tie each individual”s contribution together in a meaningful way. Participants are encouraged to find a way to help make the theme come alive, whether it is through a large-scale , a , gifts brought to be given to other individuals, costumes, or any other medium that one comes up with.

Once you enter the site, everything is free (except ice), so the underlying economy is based on gifting. I remember on numerous occasions walking or biking around and there being someone standing in the middle of the pathway offering drinks, cookies, hugs, hot dogs, or maybe just spraying you with some water to cool you down. Experiencing this over and over, completely changed my perspective and approach to everything. I felt more open and trusting of everyone around me, and like I needed to start giving things to others. Unfortunately, as a newbie, I didn’t have anything to offer, other than hugs and my appreciation (next time!).

This also made it a lot easier to check some of my conditioned ways of thinking (judgements) about appearance. Many of the outfits and clothing options I saw, I’d either never seen before, or had only seen during Halloween or similarly themed parties. There were men wearing mini-skirts, dresses, kimonos, nothing at all, etc. The same went for women, too. At first, this all caught me off guard, but after realizing there was no reason for it to, I started to understand how liberating it is to completely let go of what mainstream culture defines as social norms.

Map of the Burning Man site

The geography of the site is worth noting as well. The lay-out resembles a dial, where different “streets” correspond to clock times, and letters of the alphabet in descending order. (to see if you understand the map, try locating where my camp was, 4:30 & J).

Within this area there are different camps and villages that each share their unique gifts/interests. Upon entering Burning Man, I was given a 160-page booklet that detailed all the events and workshops that would be happening each day, and their location. I was amazed at the number of events being offered and the diversity of the topics. It seemed like there was something for everybody — you could drink tea, play soccer, jump on a trampoline, play beer pong, run a 5k (and yes, you could attend an orgy, too). Additionally, there were workshops you could attend, which also covered a wide array of interests. For example, I personally attended workshops on gift economies, how to make utopia real, , an introduction to aquaponics, and identity alchemy.

Another facet of Burning Man that left me completely in awe, was the art. Creative, technological, interactive. It’s no wonder some of the art pieces find their way to different parts of San Francisco (video: http://youtu.be/DHW8zydRV4M). There were stationary pieces of art, , as well as a variety of vehicles known as “art mobiles” that would drive around displaying their uniqueness — some hosting parties, others powered by bicycles, some in the shape of vehicles used by the Flintstones, etc. It was as if the creative instincts we’re all born with were given the space and freedom to fully express themselves however they wanted. It was truly a beautiful display of humanity at its imaginative best.

I shouldn’t forget to mention how dynamically different the space and experience becomes when the sun goes down. The mood changes, and you can almost feel the excitement build as art mobile, after art mobile passes by. The absence of light provides an entirely different context to view others (since everyone adorns their body and bikes with various light displays), and the surrounding art. There was cosmic bowling in the middle of Playa, a series of umbrella-like structures set up with images of galaxies underneath them, and true to the festival’s name, plenty of fire demonstrations.

Ultimately, Burning Man was extremely validating for a lot of the beliefs and aspirations I’ve held about life. Part of me has always felt that those aspirations are more idealistic than practical. Attending Burning Man, however, encouraged me that another world is possible, and another way of living with nature and each other is already here. I think anyone that attends Burning Man will have a meaningful experience and find how they can, “bring the playa to the world.”