I’m on the road to Burning Man, and according to tradition I’m sharing my intentions to amplify them. This year I’m doing something I’ve never done before: I’m taking an art installation! The project, Varanasi Sage, has consumed much of my waking life over the past few months, and I’ve gladly given that time. It has been a true challenge and learning experience, but it has also given my life more meaning and purpose. Plus, it helped me finish my first booklet! It’s already been a rewarding experience to create this art, and I’m looking forward to showing it off! I’ll also be giving away a limited number of my booklets as part of the installation.
Without further ado, my Burning Intentions:
Put my art into the hands of hearts who will love it
Face challenges with grace and ease, trusting my experiences
Connect with other artists in a meaningful way
Deepen into a gratitude practice
If you’re on the playa this year, I’m teaching my workshop Meditation & Writing MWF 10-11am at my camp Namaste & Chill located at 6:15 & D. I would love to see you there!
It’s time for Burning Man! The past two years, I’ve shared my intentions for the experience because writing intentions and having a witness strengthens their power. This post makes the third. Thank you for being my witness.
This year, I’m taking a new project — a meditation and lounge space I’ve been dreaming of for several years and fundraising for with many collaborators. May the Lounge be a sacred space of healing and connection; may it bring all who enter deeper into wholeness and unity.
I’m teaching my workshop, “Meditation and Writing,” three times this year: Monday, Wednesday and Friday 3-4 pm at Stellar Dusty Moon 5:30 & H (in the Lounge!). May the workshop serve us in the unique way that we need for our paths; may it provide us with insight, peace, and grounding.
My favorite part of Burning Man is the art — may I meet the artists and have profound experiences with the art.
May the workshops I attend guide me in my journey and connect me with others. May I see the heart of the earth in everyone I meet!
It’s late and I’m watching the newly-waxing moon set in the west. I’m driving through the mountains, en route to Black Rock City for Burning Man. This will be my third time participating in the art and music festival. Last year, I set intentions that mainly focused on my interactions with other people. And although they were extremely elevated, I saw and felt my intentions manifest in some of my experiences.
I’ve been humbled and challenged this past year — especially recently — and my intentions reflect my need for deep nourishment and reflection.
To share our intentions is to empower them. Please read mine below:
I intend to reestablish my relationship with my creativity; to fully engage with the art installations at the festival and allow myself to be inspired and motivated by them. I need to reset my relationship with my creativity in order to create for creation’s sake without the desire to be seen, popular or make money. This will afford me the freedom I need in my artistic pursuits. I must reconnect with my truth that God’s gift to me is my creativity and my gift back to God is using it.
I intend to be open to receiving the keys I need to enhance my productivity and fulfillment.
I intend to continue the process of letting go of the pain and hurt I hold onto by releasing the people and events from my heart that continue to cause me suffering.
This year, I would like to feel and witness the expansive love that is my true essence, so that I will know who I am.
At this very moment, I’m on the road heading northeast to Black Rock City, Nevada for the art and music festival Burning Man. Far more than just a party, last year (my first time), I learned the truth of the saying “the playa delivers.” I got everything I wanted and even more of what I needed for my transformative path. Now, sitting in the front seat of a cargo van — packed full with supplies and costumes — I know the most important part of my preparation has been setting my intentions.
Putting intentions into words and sharing them with others seems to strengthen and solidify them. And so, I would like to share my Burning Man 2016 intentions with you:
To have deep, meaningful interactions with friends and strangers; to speak into peoples’ lives with wisdom and love.
To see the divine Light shining from the eyes of those around me; to feel divine peace and love; to feel the oneness of my divine nature.
To see beyond and let go of my self-limiting beliefs; to access new levels of consciousness; to step into my authentic truth.
When I emerge from the dust, I will have stories to share and I will let you know what became of my intentions.
Below is a video shot by Evan Halleck capturing a group hug from last year. I appear at about 50 seconds, wearing a white jacket and holding the hand of a very dear friend of mine.
In the days after I talked with my friends about using self-care to enhance their creativity, I saw them internalize the message by eating more fresh foods, meditating as a group, and taking an afternoon off to swim in the Yuba river. In just a short time they were vibrant and joyous as if they had never fallen into a slump; more importantly, after they dedicated themselves to self-care, they accessed crucial, nuanced elements that brought completion to several songs. When they played me a few tracks I was spellbound by the gravity and emotion of the music; one song even brought me to tears.
Witnessing my friends gain immediate, fruitful vitality and accomplishment spurred me to nourish my inner artist with greater depth.
I began by writing a list of fun, compelling, and invigorating activities to feed my soul and refill my creative well (as Julia Cameron would call it). To my surprise, as I reviewed my list, I found many hobbies like gardening, juicing and playing piano that I couldn’t do often — or at all — while living on the road. I realized I missed them like long-lost friends.
I turned my inner eye to the loneliness, uncertainty, and aimlessness I’ve felt in the past year from living homefree. I thought of the time and energy I’ve lost from worrying about where I would go, which friend could host me, where to write, and how I could shift the moving parts to make it happen.
For the last few weeks I’ve taken a break from constant travel and have stayed in a cottage on my aunt and uncle’s property. It’s the longest I have stayed in any one place for the last year! But could I call it home?
Despite the difficulties of homelessness, I love the thrill and adventure of transience. I love the way it’s forced me to grow and stabilize in the present moment. Settling into one place felt like it could end my carefree, rolling stone lifestyle.
But what does my inner artist want?
I walked out of the cottage to a nearby pond. Standing beneath pines amongst lupine I felt the beauty of the landscape seep into my bones. I breathed deeply listening to the freedom of birds singing from the trees. Still water reflected clouds, and looking into its depths, my mind became quiet.
Wouldn’t it be refreshing to have a home again? I thought of all the comforts a home would provide: a grounding place to go back to; a sacred space for meditation, prayer and writing; my own bed. I love domestic activities; they enrich my life and nourish me. With a home I could cuddle my cat, play my piano, plant some flowers, and create a space and momentum for words to flow. A home would make self-care easier and diminish my greatest stressors. It didn’t have to mean an end to my glamsient ways; if I wanted, it could make glamsienting more sustainable.
I turned back to look at the cottage — yes, I would make this my artist’s home.
A few days ago, I wanted to hike somewhere I had never been before. I chose the Loch Leven Trail in the Tahoe National Forest because of the picturesque lakes, waterfalls, and railroad crossing I saw online. On the drive up I eagerly anticipated the new adventure.
As soon as I arrived, however, the unfamiliar terrain made me uneasy. Eventually, I found the trail marker — an old, weather-worn, small, wooden sign nailed to a tree. It was so inconspicuous, I was surprised I saw it.
Stepping onto the trail, it took me several minutes to orient myself. I walked along boulders, often intuitively choosing the direction; many times the trail split into deer paths. I felt a growing nervousness. It would be better to do this hike with a friend. I thought of going back. But no! My glamsient life is not about limitations! It’s about freedom and adventure! Instead of turning around, I built cairns to mark my route.
As I hiked, loneliness settled deeply into my heart. With a friend, building cairns would be fun, we would laugh when they fell and see who could build a better tower; we wouldn’t be scared because we would have each other. By myself, it was a response to real fear — getting lost in the wilderness, alone.
The loneliness grew: it wasn’t just this hike, it was a continuation of loneliness I experienced since I began my glamsient journey a year ago, as if it picked up where the previous lonely day had left off, compounded by the ones before that.
Keeping to my mindfulness practice, I stopped and encountered the loneliness. The pain diminished under the light of awareness, and once it did, I meditated on feelings of love — the eternal wellspring of love.
Despite my efforts, however, the loneliness kept returning. I knew following sadness into despair was not the way; it is a pattern in my past, and I am leaving that behind. But when would the loneliness stop, so I could just enjoy myself?
I may have been climbing a mountain, but I was climbing on the inside as well. I was fighting between who I have been and who I want to be. And every internal step began to feel more and more tired.
I kept going; trying to remain present; building cairns; listening to trickling streams caress the trail, sliding down rock faces that once housed glaciers; watching tiny waterfalls cascade over tree branches; hearing the small sound of a grey frog bellyflopping into a puddle when I startled him.
Turning a corner, I came upon a snow patch! I was elated to see snow this close to summer, but then I was overcome with loneliness because I didn’t have a friend with me to share my joy. What was wrong with me? Why couldn’t I be happy just to see it by myself?
In all this pain and conflict, I had to sit on a rock to center myself. When I did, tears came to my eyes, and I let myself cry. I stayed present with my sadness; it was joined by doubt. In my glamsient life, wasn’t I walking a new and unfamiliar path? I had chosen to become a glamsient to fulfill a deep need to self-actualize artistically, and it had since grown into a journey of deeper consciousness and spirituality. But if I was so lonely on this new life path that I couldn’t enjoy the trail under my feet and the unfolding adventure, what was the point?
Suddenly, the path I had chosen a year ago didn’t make sense. Suddenly, even though it had seemed right at the time, I felt like I should have never left my easy, comfortable, former life. I had a nice home and a large group of good friends. I hadn’t been deeply satisfied, it lacked substance and felt restrictive, but at least I never felt like this! Why would I ever leave that easy life behind?
Certainly, the past year of glamsient living gave me moments of unparalleled joy and, although I have a lot of work to do, I have grown as an artist — producing more and better work than before. Taking the time to dive into my spirituality has created greater meaning and presence in my life. Moving towards greater consciousness has helped me become aware of and break habitual attachments and patterns. But couldn’t I have done all this, couldn’t I have made the same artistic and spiritual gains, and still kept my familiar home and nearby friends? Wasn’t this new path counterproductive if I felt so miserable and conflicted in this present moment?
I looked out past the trees to see billowing clouds above the snow-capped mountains articulated by jagged points and crags.
“Help me,” I said through my tears, a voice crying out in the wilderness. “Let me see the Truth.”
For no reason in particular, I turned to look behind me. There I saw a small pine tree with a curved trunk growing out of a rock! I laughed through my tears. I have long identified with trees growing out of rocks; my spirit seems to me like it springs from a hard and lifeless place and it is only through the sheer power and persistence of the Creator that my soul survives and thrives. I even have a tattoo on my leg of a tree with a bend in its trunk — just like the tree I saw before me.
As if I were given an immediate answer to my cry, the Creator spoke to me through the small, bent tree: “You are never alone. I am here, watching, listening. Feel me. Feel my Love. You belong on this path — this unfamiliar, new path. The struggle you feel is your spirit breaking the chains of illusion. Your suffering is an illusion created by your mind from false ideas and parameters of happiness. Have faith in this path; I illuminated it in Truth a year ago. I led you here. Trust your creativity; it is my gift to you; it will heal you. Trust your dreams; I gave them to you and I want them to manifest. Trust that as you follow your dreams, you step closer to Me and your own divinity.”
Hearing this message with the ears of my heart, I felt a sense of comfort and strength wash over me. Without leaving my former life, I would not have gotten to this very moment on this rock to encounter the Spirit that tore through my sadness with Truth. Without leaving my former life, I could not embark upon this new journey that is filled with inspiration, expansion, meaning, and authenticity. With renewed support, I closed my eyes and allowed the air to dry my tears. I saw myself scoop the dark and painful emotions from my heart and surrender them to the Divine. In the open space a love, whole and gentle, spread outward with a vibration so complete that it softened the edges of my being.
I stood up, and with faith in myself and my journey, continued hiking the unfamiliar path.
On my way down the mountain, I passed several cairns I had made. One even helped me when I couldn’t find the trail. When I saw the parking lot, it seemed I completed an incredible journey, not just a couple miles.
Getting into my car, a half-grown pup ran over to me, smiling and wagging it’s tail.
“Hey, buddy,” I said.
His owner, wearing all khaki including a floppy hat with the chin strap pulled tight, approached us. “Finishing up?” He asked.
“How was the trail?”
“Beautiful. I love hiking. I would have preferred to hike with another person, but the time alone was –.”
“Eventually. I was pretty uneasy at first.”
“Understandable. You know, there’s a lot of hiking groups in this area. They go around and hike all the peaks together. You should check it out.”
“Thanks! That’s a great idea.”
“Have a good day,” he said.
“I will,” I replied, sure of my words, “you, too.”
I struggle with writer’s block. It makes me uptight, irritable, cranky; I joke to my friends that on bad days I feel “artistically constipated.” Today I woke up feeling a strong block. Instead of wallowing in front of my computer, however, I unplugged and took a walk.
Tall trees marked the entrance of the forest. Pines and Redwoods reached for the sky. I thought of their roots simultaneously pushing down and wondered what they looked like underground. For a moment, I stood still, breathing in and out, acknowledging the exchange between myself and the trees — I breathe their air; they breathe mine — we are one.
Walking into the forest, the sounds of birds filled the air around me as the rush of traffic faded into the distance — peace grew with every step I took.
Or did it?
As I walked, I quickly caught myself tromping unconsciously; I was literally stomping on the living, breathing being we call Earth, seeing Nature without noticing any of it. Immediately, I stopped and connected to my breath.
“Breathing in, I know that I am walking the in forest.
Breathing out, I stop to watch Nature reveal Her mystery to me.”
For no reason in particular, I looked to my right. Above the bushes I saw a bee — a longtime talisman of mine signaling the Divine presence. In this moment, I felt Nature telling me to notice the flowers.
I continued along the path, slowing down and listening with greater awareness to the singing birds while soaking in the warmth of the sun that cascaded to the ground between the trees. Only a few steps later, I happened upon a bush with small, bell-shaped, yellow flowers. Had I not caught my unconsciousness moments before, I would have missed them. As I walked on, I noticed more flowers; I saw yellow, blue, white and purple flowers; large clumps of flowers, teeny flowers all on their own. In each flower I could see the sun, the earth, the rain, the bees, generations of flowers, and all the cosmos; a miracle to behold, a miracle that I could see! A tiny white flower with six, triangular petals gave me pause; it looked like the sacred geometry symbolizing consciousness. This flower spoke to me. It said, “you are here, now; we are here together in this now.” I smiled to the tiny flower.
The forest proclaimed an abundance of miracles and I was present to witness them!
My walk today epitomizes glamsient living: enjoying more with less. The glamsient life is driven by lived experiences, not acquiring possessions. And to live our experiences deeply, we must be present — with practice it is readily available. Noticing the beauty of wildflowers is free; cultivating mindfulness is free; seeing, understanding, and being one with the forest is exquisite.