I don't know why it hasn't occurred to me until just now...just an hour or so ago...that I need to go to Burning Man. I mean, I really want to go. I dig it. I get the burning of the false self, the falling away of ego. I've been there, and strive to stay there. I do an admirable job, I think. Certainly enough to know that happiness is a choice, and that by making decisions based on what my compassion says is the best outcome for all, I continue to walk towards that happiness. I know that the only steps that amount to anything are the ones I take right now; I'd best be awake and aware and present enough in the moment to make them count. Like everything, they're only as permanent as a footprint on a windy Nevada playa in August/September.
They have community bicycles. And I can bring my own bean sprouts and live on them for pennies. How many thumbs up can we give that?