Oh.
I got a little verklempt tonight and it was so unexpected.
It breaks my heart.
I hear in my mind all of these voices.
I hear in my mind all of these words.
I hear in my mind all of this music.
Oh Regina.
You have all the clues.
I had to put the Spektor on.
It reminds me of my second year at Burning Man and the first time I heard this album.
I was staying at camp watching my ten and a half month old charge while her parents were out going to Burning Man.
I was dancing on top of a wooden bench that was next to the burn barrel and I was sad and happy and full of this bright music that just caromed into my heart and burned itself there.
I recall another time, same album, a few years later, also at Burning Man, being told by an admirer, “I watched you dance by yourself, it was so beautiful I couldn’t help myself.”
I had been having my Regina Spektor moment, by myself I had thought, unaware of being observed.
I have Burning Man on the mind.
Burning Man in my heart.
I am heart sore and surprised by it.
Maybe I have just been whistling in the dark about the whole not going thing.
“You need to go up early and come home early,” a friend said to me weeks ago when I told her that my plans to go had collapsed when I got the word of my school schedule and the opening weekend being the 2nd, 3rd, and 4th of September.
I couldn’t very well work.
I couldn’t take the ticket, the camp offer, the job offer, the ride, none of it if I wasn’t going to be able to do the job that I had been hired on to do.
I explained this to a dear friend of mine who saw my face fall when a mutual friend showed us a photograph of his tickets and the Survival Guide.
I teared up.
I got all emotional.
I am rather teary right now writing about it.
I guess I could feel some shame about that, but it means a lot to me.
It’s where I go to see so many friends that I would not otherwise see.
It is where I feel almost most whole and myself.
You are my sweetest downfall.
I went to bed last night and said my prayers and got into my bed and said, just an aside, hey God, I want to go to Burning Man.
I don’t know how.
I don’t know what I am going to do.
But.
Fuck it.
Fuck this.
I want to go.
It’s home.
It’s year ten in a row.
I can’t see myself not going and it hurts, like physically, to think about not being there.
I thought to myself.
I don’t have enough money.
Bullshit.
Then.
I can’t get the time off from work.
Again.
I call bullshit.
If my employers were willing to give me ten days off they’ll be willing to give me four days off.
I don’t have a ride.
So fucking what?
I am sure I can catch a ride with someone.
I travel small.
I travel light.
I don’t have a place to camp.
So fucking what?
I know enough people I’m sure I could bivouac with someone.
“Do you want me to ask her for a ticket?” My friend asked tonight.
I balked.
I hate asking.
I hate it.
But.
Yes.
Fuck.
Yes I do.
And so here we go world.
Interwebs.
Friends.
Family.
Burners.
I want to go.
I’m ready to do whatever needs to be done.
I don’t want to roll over like a dead mouse on this one.
Which means taking some actions.
I am going to ask some folks.
I’m going to see what I can see and do what I can do and if there’s a hot chance in hell that I can go, I’m going to go, if it’s only for a few days, fine.
I have had my three week stints out there.
And yeah, I love that shit.
But.
As a dear friend relayed to me via a message, that the playa Goddesses would understand, that the noble arts of healing and psychology were worthy pursuits.
He added that he thought coming up early was a good idea.
I do too.
So.
I have to do the asking.
I can’t just sit on my hands and hope that something will happen.
The man burns in like, I don’t know, 60 days?
Less maybe, I can get it all together quickly to do the deal.
I just have to do it.
I have to take the action.
I hate asking for help, but that’s what I have to do.
If I can get it together to get out the evening of the 26th, I could be there for four days.
That would be fine with me.
Better four days than no days.
God, what do you think?
I say yes.
I want to go and I am willing to be the beggar at this point.
I have some selling points, I’m good company on the ride, I’m good at taking people out on playa bike ride dates, I give a fantastic hand massage, face massage, back massage, I like to recite poetry, I love to be vulnerable and open and sunny and bright and I bring something to the event, I don’t just take.
I will go and be of service, even for a short time, there is service that can be done.
It’s late.
It’s late notice.
It’s short, short time, short notice.
But.
I am not afraid.
If I’m not supposed to go, it’ll be obvious real fast.
If I’m supposed to go, it’ll be easy and fall gently, beautifully, sweetly into place.
Now.
A big deep breath.
I’m willing to do the work.
And I am willing to let go of the results.
Come what may.
To Burn or not to burn is not the question.
I am always on fire.
Just get me to the church on time.
God.
I pray.
Just get me to the playa.
I’ve been a good girl this year.
Yeah.
I know.
God is not Santa Claus, but I also know that God knows what is in my heart and wants to give me those things.
I have faith.
Exuberant and raw.
I plant my rebar stake here.
Let’s go to Burning Man.
Let’s please.
Yes please.
Let’s go.
Go.
Go.
Go.