Monday, October 27, 2014

Back from the playa.... (Originally published on September 3, 2008)

I'm torn. August has been an amazing month. There is so much going on. I don't know what to write about first.

The condo fell through. I guess that would be upsetting if it hadn't turned out so well. I moved in with Liz in Ambler. The last Musick has left Philadelphia. The city did make one last attempt to kill one of us, but it looks like it will have to wait.

August redefined synchronicity for me. Atheists can find it difficult to talk about fate. But whether through random chance or human intervention, sometimes everything just falls into place. And so it was that a series of fortunate events led me to a place where synchronicity is almost common enough to be cliche: Black Rock City.

I camped with an amazing group of people. A group I barely knew that took me in and showed me the ropes. They have gone to the playa year after year and set up an outpost of civilization in a place where no life was meant to be. From the food, to the sound system, to the showers, to the bar, to the structures and organization, they allowed me to leave my concerns far behind. They are really an amazing group of people and I hope they know that. I just wanted to thank The Philadelphia Experiment and wish them all joy. I love you guys.

I could give a thousand examples of how the right set of circumstances led to magick. From the Root Society music leading me out of a dust storm to choosing the right time to go on walk-about to pass by Atomikamp when they were opening up the fallout shelter, to the amazing young woman that let me borrow a hand cart, to the amazing gentleman who needed to use it after me. I said many times during the week I was out there that "The playa provides.". Time and time again, it proved me right.

However, even in this place where the laws of physics and statistics seemed somehow skewed, I can not say I felt as one with the playa. That is until the man fell. There was something primal in that release of energy. There are traditions now and plans and performance pieces, but at the root of it, the destruction has a power all its own. I walked around the debris several times and then just kept walking. I walked wherever the mood struck me and eventually returned to my beloved PEXies. I revelled with them and found warmth as the night grew cold. We danced into the morning and gathered as the sun rose over the mountains that give the area its name. It was then, looking around at the smiles and joy that I realized that this place was a place of healing, of contact, of love. I praised the sun and the land and the joy that morning.

I was on breakfast crew a few hours later and stayed on the playa for another 30 or so hours, but right then I saw in the eyes of other a reflected light I sometimes forget is there. I hope that I was able to do the same for them.

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