Theme for an Imaginary Western - part 6

Dr. Bronner's -- aka Foam Mo' Arigato

My mood is up and down at Burning Man. I mean _wildly_ up and down.

In these posts, I realize I'm talking mostly about the down part, because that's the "sharp edge" that Chogyam Trungpa, for example, talks about "leaning into" - the edge I want to work with -- but I'm up a lot too. Don't worry, there's more on that later...

BUT...THE BOTTOM:
I'm walking down the road this morning, and I'm just unhappy. Can't elevate my mood with happy thoughts.

This is not like me.

On the other hand, I'm oftentimes insulated from the fun in others' lives, my existence being a little on the solitary side these days. Maybe I'm just jealous?

Actually, no - not jealous -- that's not me either....I think, maybe unrequited...

Here at Burning Man everyone seems to be having this great time with people they just met, their old friends, etc….and I can't get arrested. They are doing what they want, dressing like they want...having FUN...



...and it just feels like it's my fault that my experience is not better.

Well, it is, isn't it?

Thankfully, I am here to hold my feet to the fire (and remember, everything is burning), so I'm not exactly complaining, but on the other hand...I need the magic formula that turns it all around...

I turn a corner and there's 4 people splashing around in the mud of a water truck. Occasionally the trucks come by and wet down the road by dropping 'spare' (non-potable) water on them. (YUK!)

below: generic Internet photo of Burning Man water truck:

On this day, there are 2 beautiful women in bikinis and 2 young guys in shorts, probably in their 20's, and they are giggling up a storm. Sheer happiness. Closest to me, one of the men is hugging one of the women and she's sort of wiggling to get loose in that playful way. It's a moment when time seems to slow down - in this tableau - before she turns and wiggles loose of his embrace.

When she turns, I can see that she's missing her right arm from just above the elbow.

I feel truly touched, that she seems accepted, loved, happy, self expressed. It's quite beautiful really...

At the same time, I simply hate myself in this moment. Lowest ebb of the trip. Burning Man 2010's nadir.

Here is this person, so very happy despite whatever challenges she's facing (at least right now) - no discernible compunction, unease or remorse - and I can barely smile. I have arms. What is my fucking problem? Seriously - It's like I'm my own worst enemy.

As I walk on, I'm thinking about what I'm going to write in this particular post, and it's dark. Man, is it dark. 'Damn, I can't write that', I think, 'people will think I'm suicidal'.

Also I'm starting to become cognizant to the fact that this all is ending in a few days, and even if I'm not always happy in it -- this is one happy place. I would move here tomorrow if it were a 365 day city instead of a 7 day one.....and no, I'm not kidding.

I'm not ready to say goodbye.

TOUCH?!??
Well, I started thinking about this therapist I once had. One night at the session (this probably goes back 15 years), that therapist asked me this question:

"Where do you get your touch?"

I thought it was totally weird. It's like saying do you get your tomatoes from Trader Joes or Whole Foods? Touch? What the hell are you talking about?

But over the years, I have thought about that question more and more. It's not merely a sexual question. The therapist's inference is that touch is so important to human beings, that it's something that absolutely needs to be supplied - like a basic nutrient. That was not acknowledged in my childhood - not acknowledged by family or environment.

As lovely as my family is, there weren't a lot of tactile signals from them -- especially my mother who didn't love being touched (or so she would SAY). I do want to say, she stood strong for me over the years - very stong, and I feel immense gratitude....but there's definitely a lot I have to learn, that's the bottom line...

...and I admire people who have that gift of being tactile beings in their normal demonstrative moments...yet every time someone touches me unexpectedly, I jump a little. Not in a good way. In the past, I used to express displeasure when that 'jump' happened inside of me.

Now - I don't mention it, instead realizing its life-affirming value, and I try to settle into a comfort zone - which is a small step forward.

On this day after a week away from my short hello/goodbye hugs, plus a little rawer emotionally than usual, I think I was particularly 'hungry'. More than usual...

It's against that backdrop that the next experience occurs:

MO' FOAM:
I heard that there was a place that you could take a shower. At this point it's been a week since I took a shower, so - even within my basic grumpiness - I'm pretty excited about the notion of that. I've actually been there a few times trying to catch them.

The camp is called "Foam Mo' Arigato".

I went by there once and said, in my typical non-threatening, jocular style delivery - "Are you still doing the showers or have I missed it forever?". The guy thinks for a minute and then replies in a guru-like demeanor with a question: "Well, you never really miss anything forever, do you?"

How Zen...I like this place already....

The bad news is that I had, in fact, missed them on that earlier day...

....and it is a really long walk, almost to the other side of the city (at least a mile), but on this day, with the girl with no forearm still very much on my mind... I made it -- for the very last round of showers!

NOTE: I include a few pictures - found around the web - for some idea of the place. I didn't take pictures, with the exception of the one of me below, because no one had clothes on.


Informally to the rest of us, it's the Dr. Bronner truck camp. Remember Dr. Bronner's Peppermint soap? Well, here at this camp, they put you in a plastic shipping container on a flatbed truck platform, and then pump Dr. Bronner's soap into the container from these big vats of it (at least 50 gallons each) they have sitting there...

...and then spray water into the container from a fire truck. I figured I'd give it a shot.

On this day when I arrived, they were doing the showers, and a bunch of really good looking people women and men, were waiting with no clothes on on the ladder up to the container where the wash takes place. Probably all 20 to 30 year olds. All differing, but beautiful body types. The men I didn't look at so much, other than to size them up, so to speak. I had nothing to worry about here…so despite my natural shyness, I took off my clothes and joined the line.

The ladder, but on a different day:


When it's our turn to go in, I respectfully head to my little area on the other side, and the men and women are somewhat separated. The guy who's running it says "that one doesn't work, go over there", and with that he pushes me into the middle of the women, then quickly turns on the soap spray. I've lost my balance and - in fact - everybody is falling around and bumping into one another. Happily I'm on the women's side (or this post might either be about my upcoming round of therapy, or that I have some 'news').

Anyway, it was fun...and natural, very natural.

Happy people with more clothes than us on, different day (and not at Burning Man):


It really felt liberating to actually be naked around a gender-mixed group of other people like that. My experience in military school showers - with all male contingent - was NOT calming, this was. Primordially calming.

This modesty that I got from my Puritanical ancestors is bullshit. Absolute bullshit. Unhealthy. I want a do-over!

Censored photo of me in birthday apparel after the bath:


That dark mood was instantly transformed - - - and I think I stopped - for good - doubting the veracity of my former therapist's question.

Later I walked almost all the way home with no clothes at all on, straight through the center of town. It was my answer to unhealthy modesty. What I met with was mostly indifference, mixed with being subtly checked out by attractive women a couple of times (if those imperfections I mentioned earlier can be attractive to me, certainly mine can also be attractive to the right recipient?).

Ok -- this time -- I'll allow myself to believe I really saw the glances.

I also provided fodder for an esplanade comedian, with surprisingly little embarrassment on my part. I even answered him back. Maybe the fortune was right...maybe the smallest step toward your goal is progress...