By Maria Padhila
The other day a woman I like posted something about having just learned what a tulpa is and being afraid to think about something lest it manifest in all its scary glory.
She was kidding, but this intersected a little too neatly with some similar thoughts I’d been having. I’m planning to take my daughter, Tobi, to her first burn. She’s been to some parties. We talk a lot. She’ll have one adult, usually two, with her at all times. I know others will be bringing their kids. I have tried to prep her for this six ways to Sunday. She’s going because SHE wants to and has begged and begged for years.
Recently, when I asked her to name some of the happiest times of her life (in order to get her mind off feeling sick), one of the times on the list was “when I was hula hooping at that burner party.” (Others were helping her aunt pick out photos for the market stall where she sells her photos, going on rides at a neighborhood fair with one of her best friends, and touring San Francisco with her grandparents. I am telling myself, “see, this is a well-rounded life. She’s doing OK.”)
At the same time, because there were some incidents of sexual assault at Burning Man this year (as there are every year), the people at our small regional burn have been talking, debating, arguing, expressing and talking some more about ways to make our space completely safe.
And that made me nervous. People talking about how to keep our space free and safe made me hyper-aware of all the possible dangers. Was this a good decision?
I’m not asking that question because I want community input. We’re going to make our own decision on this one. I asked the question of myself.