Burning Man... I went in 2002, and it was one of those totally life-changing experiences. Ever since then, I've watched "The Man" burn via streaming video most years. This year, of all years, I wish I were there. It's all about letting go, and starting over, and hopefully in the process getting even closer to who you are and who you want to be. It's like New Year's Eve - a chance to start over, but I believe on a much deeper level than sipping champagne and kissing whomever happens to be close by.
Here's what I want to let go of right now, as I watch The Man burn...
1) Expectations. I thought my life was going to be a certain way, and it isn't going to be that way. Expectations = suffering. Whatever will be, will be. I am a single mom, I am going to be a divorcee, and my children may even have step-parents and half-siblings someday. I used to think this was all very Jerry Springer, and it is, but it's also reality. My reality. So be it. Burn those expectations.
2) Josh Price, circa May 14, 2005. The man I married. Big sigh... I was so in love. He was hot, protective, sweet, into food and wine, gainfully employed, looking towards our future together with the same positive outlook as I had. I stood in front of 119 people and promised to love him forever, and I will on some level. But he does not exist anymore and he will never, ever exist again. Burn the Josh Price that I married - he is gone.
3) Fear. (Written as the man begins to fall...) The big difference between me now and me in 2002 is that I am, I believe, much closer to the real me. I know what I'm good at, and what I'm not (though I am still surprised occasionally - turns out I am a kick-ass rock climber - who knew?). And because I know myself better, it's time to take some risks. I went rafting last weekend for the first time in seven years, and had an amazing time - beautiful day, great rapids, and great memories. But when we hit the flat section at the end, I JUMPED IN. And stayed in the water for about a half an hour. This is very uncharacteristic of me - in the past, I've done everything possible to stay out of the water. But this time, instead of getting hung up on that moment when you hit the COLD water and it takes your breath away, I decided I wanted to push through that and become more comfortable in the water, which I think would make me a better guide. The result was a moment of shock, but then 29 minutes of floating. Letting the current take me where it may. Feeling weightless. And alive.
Along those lines, I went to a concert on Thursday at the very, very last minute. I was sitting at my desk at Clif Bar on Thursday, knowing Josh had the boys for the night, and couldn't figure out what to do with myself. Nothing felt good - didn't want to go home (because I'd end up being in charge), didn't want to go to a movie, etc. A buddy from b-school posted he had a last-minute extra ticket to a Taylor Swift concert. I sat and stared at the post for 15 minutes. Literally. I don't know the music. I don't really know this classmate well. I'd actually been attracted to him. I had no clue what his status in life is. It was his birthday. It was in San Jose. I'd be very happy watching "Modern Family" on my iPad in bed. But I sucked it up and WENT. It was amazing. The show was incredible, I loved the music (some of which I actually had heard before), I was introduced to a song that captures my heartbreak in a way that no other song has ("Last Kiss"), and I had a fantastic time with the classmate. Mike. I have a new crush. Even if nothing ever comes of it, it was so fun to be truly attracted to someone. We're supposed to get together in a couple of weeks to share a bottle of wine, btw. You never know...
Burn the fear. Take some risks. Maybe even LOTS of risks.
4) Josh Price, circa 2011. I still know what he's up to, for the most part, and I need to just let it go. He's dating someone who is radically different from me. He bought a motorcycle. He bought a bunch of stuff for his apartment. He smokes pot all day, every day. He reeks of pot smoke. He has done nothing to look for a job.
None of this matters. If he shows up for his visits when he's supposed to and pays his child support, that is all I should care about. And it's hard to let go, but I have to. I have to, because it's time to move on. He will never, ever be the person that I thought he could be and thought he should be, and it's time to accept his new role in my life. I never thought this would happen, but it has.
Burn, Baby, Burn. And Happy New Year.
