What's Alive #5: Ode to the Ephemeral🪻🌬️
What the impermanent can teach us about purpose, beauty and letting go of scripts.
Which flavours have filled your last months?
What does your summer taste like now?
For me, it is fullness, ripeness. An abundance of experiences and insights have filled my weeks. Festivals and trainings, deserts and mountains, communities and deep 1:1 connections. I am grateful for this richness - and creating enough space for solitude and integration hasn’t always been smooth. I have occasionally danced close to the edge of too-muchness. Too much hopping from place to place, from one peak experience to the next. Too little time to simply be, to do nothing. And to write. But here I am, back in connection to myself - and to you through these words. I’m excited to be sharing this process with you.
An essential part of my summer has been my immersion into the Burning Man culture. Building temporary cities for thousands of people in the middle of the desert is really something to marvel at. Every part of the human experience covered, from ‘showers’ and kitchens to swimming pools and cathedral-like structures, built for a couple of days. In the heat, with your hands. And then you tear it all down. You leave no trace. There is no proof that the world you created ever existed - and still it is worth pouring yourself into it, fully.
I sense there is a lot that the ephemeral can teach us about purpose. Conversations around purpose sometimes turn into a dialogue around legacy - the desire to build creations that might outlive us. Established brands, robust architecture, children, works of art. In a way, I see this as a desire to transcend our (unavoidable) impermanence. To go beyond the confinement of time with our contributions and creations. To create value beyond the self, beyond the now.
The burning man principles of immediacy and leaving no trace challenge that notion. Meaning can and does exist in the ephemeral, in that which vanishes.
What do we choose to create when we build only for the immediate moment, only for the now? With no expectation that anything will lead to anything other than it is, right now.
It is fascinating how agendas and expectations can diminish the magic and beauty of a moment. And it is really a practice, to learn to be with what is without trying to alter it, control it, rush it. I have experienced this from both ends of the spectrum.
Scenario: I sense that someone wants me to do something or be something different than what I am. I imagine they have a preconceived idea of how our interaction should unfold. A script. Sensing this agenda, the natural unfolding of the moment freezes. The beauty that was there collapses under the weight of the perceived expectation. Aliveness is lost.
Scenario: I dream up a wonderful fantasy script of how a situation is going to unfold. I try to ‘guide’ the encounter to fit into this desired vision that actually isn’t what is really (t)here. It rarely works. The beauty that is there isn’t celebrated, seen. Aliveness is lost. 🥀
And still, predefined scripts rule so many of our everyday encounters. Knowing what something is, being able to predict how it will go, can invoke a sense of safety. Uncertainty can be scary. And the unknown is also where the deliciously magic encounters are born from.
That is one of the reasons why I loved the burning man gatherings so much. There is so much unknown. The conventional, implicit rules of behaviour just aren’t present. Consensus reality doesn't apply. There are other creative principles at play and so every encounter is completely fresh, unexpected and unpredictable. You might officiate a wedding between two strangers and never see them again. You might walk out of your tent in search for coffee in the morning, and return the next morning, at sunrise, after being taken from one adventure to the next. Every situation is likely to transform into a musical, a ritual, or effortlessly shapeshift into a surreal version of itself. It is not possible to predict or foresee how any encounter will play out. No predefined script is followed, everything is improvised and created in the moment. It is a playground for different realities to emerge.
A temporary reality where there is no money - and still everything you need appears. Where planning doesn’t make sense because everything is constantly being reshaped, birthed. Where intense beauty flourishes for just an instant - and then it is gone.
'Love what is mortal
hold it close against your bones
and when it is time to let it go
Let it go.'
With love,
Laura.
poem adapted from Mary Oliver’s In Blackwater Woods.
Please feel free to comment, share or reach out if anything resonated. I always love to receive your reflections.
🧵 following the thread:
The particular conditions that burns are filled with (or devoid of) seem to be conducive to inspiration, innovative visions at scale. I recently discovered that Google’s Doodles emerged during Burning Man and also Circling, the mediation practice that I have been involved with and that I spent an entire week practicing last month, also originated in a Burn.
I changed a lot of plans this summer. I let go of airplanes that I had booked, I didn't use tickets for festivals I once intended to go to. Plans that at some point felt right stopped feeling aligned. I could have decided to carry them out as originally imagined, but instead, I decided to follow the guiding principle of this newsletter - aliveness. And so, dear friend, if you are trying to plan something with me and it is not manifesting, know that it is not you, it is my new approach to life. Plans shall be minimized until further notice (or that’s the practice I’m experimenting with currently, let’s see what it leads to).
🍋 fresh questions that I’m holding:
when is solitude (re)generative and when does it lead to loneliness?
🍃 in other realms:
I will be performing in September as part of the Zürcher Theater Spektakel. It is a show based on the principles of trance, unconscious memories and how slowness can expand time. It has been a while since I don’t participate in a larger public performance and I’m so curious to see what it will feel like and what will emerge. 🎭
I finished my Diploma in Neurosomatic Integration and am now in the process of writing my thesis. This has enlivened my deep, nerdy part, and I have spent a substantial amount of time researching everything from classical Non-dual Shaiva Tantra scriptures to brainwaves and the impact of different kinds of sounds on the endocrine system. If you have interesting resources in this space, I’d love to receive them. Keywords: Kundalini, Embodied Ethics, Power. 🧠
When synchronicities happen, I listen. This last week, 4 humans have commented in some capacity on my voice and on how I should record meditations or learn hypnotherapy, or basically use it more. I am curious to follow that thread and I’m envisioning adding an experimental audio part to this newsletter moving forward. I’m dreaming up an audio version of this (which is one of my favourite pieces of writing. I know it is an incredibly ugly website but the content is worth the aesthetic heart-break. Really). And so my ask to you is - do you have any question or topic you’d like to hear discussed? Send it my way! 🎤
If you have been in this space before, you have heard me rave about Grieving Fire Rituals. Holding this these rituals is some of the most beautiful, transformative work that I have been privileged to experience and support. There is an upcoming ritual in October that my friend Janna is holding and if you feel the call, I can only recommend following it. ❤️🔥
I will travel to Spain in September. I will be mostly in the North, in Navarra, at my dad’s farm, picking zucchinis and ridiculously delicious tomatoes and living very close to the soil (see below) and to my family. But I will also be shortly in the mountains in Granada and possibly also in Georgia (🇬🇪) in late September - if you happen to be in these locations, maybe our paths can cross.
If this resonated and made you think of other humans that might enjoy this experiment, please invite them on this journey. Shared discoveries often taste sweeter.
🌒 written on a waxing crescent moon, on a deliciously hot summer night.