Five Lessons from Burning Man

In my last post, I wrote about how Burning Man inspired me to rethink waiting. A few people asked me to share more about my experience there, so here it is.

The takeaway isn’t OMG Burning Man changed my life forever #YOLO #youhadtobethere #desertnotdessert.

It’s closer to: Burning Man affirmed the life I’ve been trying to live and, I suspect, many of us want.

In other words: if we avert our eyes from the news cycle, we can see how much connection, generosity, and creativity already exist in this world, no trip to the Nevada desert required.

Here are five other things I took away from Burning Man:

1. Settle Myself Beforehand

Last year, I went straight from the office to a local festival called Interfusion. I was swept up in FOMO, overwhelmed by choices, and too scattered to connect as deeply as I wanted.

This time, fresh off quitting my job, I spent three nights at a meditation retreat center before heading to the desert. That gave me space to set an intention: to welcome whatever came including the discomfort of mud, weather, and lack of sleep. I also committed to honoring a new relationship and not chasing hookups (or wandering into the infamous Orgy Dome).

That preparation paid off. When the bass camp next door shook my tent until 3 or 4 every night, I wasn’t wrecked by it. When my clothes and tent got soaked in a downpour, I took it in stride. And because I wasn’t scanning every event for physical intimacy, I found it easier to connect to a more important kind of intimacy with those around me.

2. Find Your Microculture Instead of Blaming the Macroculture

Burning Man has everything, including excess. As a sober vegan, I was worried I’d feel out of place. And at times, I did: alcohol, drugs, and bacon were at nearly every corner.

But Burning Man is also full of moderation and intention. Instead of resenting the whole scene for those things that didn’t fit me, I focused on the corners that did.

For me, that meant joining Camp Not A Cult, a lovely group of people committed to a conscious, alcohol-free Burn. It also meant finding a vegan meetup event after a chance conversation at an arepa tent.

In both spaces, I found deep connection. Not just in sharing the experience of being sober and plant-based, but also in being honest about the challenges. We weren’t judging others for their different choices, we were simply grateful to find each other.

3. Center Passion, Not Money

Everywhere I looked, people had built something wild: a sourdough pizza oven in the desert, a giant rocking horse, a steampunk octopus art car with moving arms. None of it was for money. It was for the joy of creating, the drive to master something, the thrill of sharing it. (Dan Pink’s book Drive chronicles these concepts in very non-Burning Man settings)

As I step out on my own as a creator, it’s a reminder to focus less on monetizing and more on what inspires me and, hopefully, serves others. Like writing this piece: it was sparked by my dad’s simple invitation: “So, are you going to write about Burning Man?” not to boost subscribers.

4. Decompression Is as Important as the Event

At Burning Man, creativity, generosity and immediacy are the default: People give freely, pick up trash without being asked, strike up conversations with strangers, and live out the fullest expression of themselves. It’s hard not to be moved. It’s well documented that the real challenge comes afterward when we step back into the “default world.”

There are official “decompression events” meant to ease the transition, but for me, the more powerful practice has been in my daily life: gifting stickers to someone who stops to pet my dog, buying a stranger coffee, chatting with the woman with purple hair on Georgia Avenue who casually mentioned she’s 36 years sober, enjoying the freedom of DC Bike Party.

And it’s been important to give myself time. I’m still letting the dust, both literal and metaphorical, settle as I catch up on sleep and recover from the inevitable sickness that hit me right after I got back. (For more reintegration ideas, read this Psychology Today article I wrote earlier in the year)

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5. Build a Life You Don’t Need a Retreat From

This is a phrase I keep returning to. Yes, it’s true Burning Man’s remoteness and intensity is part of its magic.

But here’s the other truth: wonder, connection, and generosity aren’t confined to the desert. The tens of thousands of Burners scatter back across the globe—including right here in DC—the other 51 weeks of the year. Beyond that, I’ve experienced the same Burning Man ethos from people in my life who have never heard of, let alone set foot in, Black Rock City.

To that end, I wanted to share the ways I see people in my daily life embodying the 10 Burning Man Principles:

1. Radical Inclusion: My brother, Jeremy, who encouraged me to come and Darell and Phoenix, who helped me connect with the Burning Man community even though I didn’t camp with them.
   
2. Gifting: Aaron, Stacie, Brian, and Katie, who opened their homes before and after the Burn despite having two kids apiece racing around.
   
3. Decommodification: Kelsey, Chandler, Meredith, Parker, and Kathryn, who look after my beloved dog Walnut based on their love for her and me.
   
4. Leaving No Trace: Tony, who organizes trash pickups in DC and on a local bike trail.
   
5. Radical Self-Expression: Mac, who hosted a sex-ed–themed party while transitioning careers.
   
6. Communal Effort: Phoebe and Joe, who co-lead November Project DC.
   
7. Civic Responsibility: Alli, who volunteers with Free DC to respond to ICE raids.
   
8. Radical Self-Reliance: Pete, who builds contraptions out of discarded speakers instead of buying new things.
   
9. Participation: Brian, who invited me into Freestyle Dansfit, an amazing choreography dance class in DC.
   
10. Immediacy: Karen, who inspires me with how present and loving she is with her children and with me and who is helping me empower others to lead sessions for the Mindful Sundays community in DC.

Summing Up the Un-Sum-uppable

Do you need to go to Burning Man? Nah. Should you be open to it? Why not: there are tons of shorter and more accessible regional Burning Man events, that’s how I started. Should you consider how its principles might apply to your life right now? My answer: absolutely.

So, tell me, how do you see Burning Man in your day-to-day?