Do Less to Go Deeper | #37

Musings after my first burn

I spent the last ten days camping in one of the wettest conditions Burning Nest has seen. Ever. But alas burns be burns and despite the tough weather conditions, I had a very pleasant time. Pleasant isn’t a word I usually use because I’m usually an ‘awesome’, ‘amazing’, ‘unbelievable’ or other more vigorous and passionate kind of girl but this burn, my first, was truly a pleasant affair.

I’d spent the month preceding it building my art piece ‘Chance and Choice’ which is a three-part wooden and painted meditation on the role that chances and choices play in our lives. Inspired by the etymology of this year’s theme ‘Cosmic Carnival’ and some burner art archives from Black Rock City, the build-up was stressful yet beautiful. Many of my habitual patterns surfaced, such as trying to fit more in than is possible. Even the creation of the art itself was a very ambitious one-person project, and this one person (me) hadn’t used many of the tools required to make this vision come to life. If you want to see the full digital experience, click here.

In many ways, my burn began when I got the art grant and started to intensify when I was building my art. Finishing my art and having the Department of Public Works van pick it up a week before the burn was wonderful; it gave me a week to decompress from the build and to get ready for the burn itself.

I got there by van with the artwork of another group where my boyfriend was a part. They built a phenomenal UFO that crash-landed, with two navigation panels showing RFID interaction, and LED lights syncing to different RFID tags. For the duration of the burn, Alex and I were caretaking his art build and mine, always detouring by it on the way to and from places.

The burn was deeply non-dramatic. It was beautiful, gentle, slow, and wonderful all the same. I attribute a lot of this to burning with Alex, who is a deeply non-dramatic, kind, relaxed, and expansive soul.

The first few days were focused on each of our builds. Alex and his crew had a big build to set up, and I had to drag all my sub-fabricated parts down the hill to where it was to be placed. We arrived at midnight Friday, and by Monday noon, both our art builds were done. It was a small victory in itself.

I want to shoutout to those who made my build possible: Harry who helped with designs, Simon who drew designs over Zoom and suggested placement, Dan who kindly let me use his garden and shed for off-site build, Alex who helped me emotionally and practically, Xavier and Dave who came to pick up my art, Pedro who helped me with frame screws, and Manish who gave me solar lights for nighttime when my book lights (meant for indoors in bed) became vulnerable to the rain.

By Wednesday, we were in full swing. Alex and I got UV glow polish on our nails, put on outfits, and went to dance. It was wonderful to see the city starting to come to life with each theme camp opening their doors and the whole site finishing their build for the celebrations.

Thursday started beautifully with a bath at the hippie soup. Another art build of two bathtubs with hot stones set on top of an open fire by a stream. Each day the water would be emptied and refilled, and then the fire would be lit. It became a soup because the water wasn’t changed until the next day. Thankfully, Alex and I got intel from the creator and arrived to start the soup, so we had clean baths. The warmth of the water and the serenity of the surroundings created a perfect start to the day.

We made lit-up headdresses for each other and partied into the night, which was a constant affair until Sunday.

The highlights for me were simple things, like us taking the time and pouring love to make breakfast together and for each other, cooking hot meals for lunch and dinner, and not rushing food for the sake of the party. Each meal was hot and delicious, and filled with love.

The effigy burnt on Saturday, and we had a party afterward, but on Sunday, the temples burnt in silence, and we walked back to our camping area in contemplation.

My biggest takeaway from the week was the importance of doing less. Earlier in the week, I’d circled a whole bunch of workshops that appealed to me, and I’d have rushed to them had Alex not been a more relaxed, present, and calm partner in crime. Instead, we took our time and savoured each moment, even the simple ones like having canned soup for lunch. We made it to a total of one workshop, and I feel deeply okay about that. This mindset shift allowed me to experience a profound sense of peace and presence.

Often I’d see acquaintances at a distance, which would require running to them. And in most of those moments, I happily didn’t go to them. Even a simple act like this showed me that doing less to go deeper meant choosing to stay with Alex, to continue our conversations, to deepen into us and our time together rather than going to greet some not-too-familiar acquaintance to have a ‘when did you arrive?’, ‘I like your (insert accessory)’, or ‘where are you going?’, ‘what have you been up to?’ chat. Of course, I went up to my friends and introduced Alex to them. This choice felt empowering and fulfilling.

It was weird at first for me, an extrovert with a phenomenal memory for names, faces, and experiences I’ve had with people, to not pursue those people even for a short conversation, but I consciously let go of those moments in favour of deeper ones each time throughout the week. It wasn’t like I suppressed myself; I just felt no need for those interactions.

In my pursuit of doing more, sometimes I’d say to Alex, let’s quickly do this or that or go ahead, and I’ll run to catch up. His reply would remind me that it wasn’t where we were heading but how we were getting there that matters. He wanted to go together, to have those moments with each other.

But my desire to do less to go deeper doesn’t apply just to my relationship with him. It applied to so many other things like being able to fully arrive in the week, to fully arrive in each thing we set out to do. For the temple burn, we arrived at least 40 minutes early so we could get good seats, settle, and when the burn started, be present.

As someone who tried to squeeze things in here and there and manages to, it was a deep perspective shift. It’s not that I haven’t been able to do more with less time; it is that I’ve precisely been able to successfully do more with less time that I didn’t realise what I’d been trading off. I’d been trading off my ability to go deeper with each thing in favour of more things. I’d been trading off nuances in the depth of experience that bring ineffable beauty and meaning. This realisation was profound and has changed my approach to life.

On the train back to London, I started a book recommended by my friend Jonny. It’s called Four Thousand Weeks, an anti-time management ode to the fact that life is short and invites us to love the fact that we are mere mortals with finite time. It was the perfect way to decompress and encompass the understanding of my week. My burn could have been more packed, I could have said hi to everyone I know, made more friends, done more workshops, partied more, but my burn was my burn because I was opinionated about what I wanted it to be. I did less, Alex and I bonded deeply, we ate good food, stayed up late, and partied, but slept well and deeply.

The burn was uneventful in the best possible way, in that I’m so used to a full and vigorous life of excitement and adrenaline, especially at festivals. But this wasn’t a festival, it was a community gathering, and our burn was the type of life I want to lead: present, grounding, uneventful, non-dramatic, loving, kind. And very deeply pleasant.

Love and light,

Caryn