An observation, noted in June 2026.
Burning Man is my holiday / new year season.
Other people have Christmas or Thanksgiving or Diwali or the High Holy Days — a fixed point in the calendar where the year pauses, you see the people who matter to you, you do the rituals that connect you to something larger than the day-to-day.
For me that’s the last week of August and first week of September, on the playa in Nevada. The year before the burn and the year after it are how I orient in time. I count things in burns: that was two burns ago, I’ve known this person for four burns.
This is a slightly unusual organizing principle for a life. I’m aware of that. But most holiday traditions are also slightly unusual organizing principles if you look at them from outside: a decorated tree in the living room, or fasting for a day, or going to the same house every November to eat the same meal with the same people who have known you your whole life.
The playa is where I go to remember what I’m doing the rest of the year.