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Temple Visits

I visited the Temple of Flux four times. I wanted to go each day, but the way the hours roll seamlessly there with no meaning or inherent to-do-ness, I think four was pretty good.

P and rode out there the first morning. All ready it was a sacred space. There is a temple each year and it’s grown in popularity. It burns the night after the Man burns. This year’s temple was a very organic looking piece that was a series of hills and nooks and open spaces.People leave all sorts of objects in memory of loved ones and themselves. Paintings, pictures, books, dolls, toys. Some sprinkle ashes there.

I had planned to spend time alone there. I wanted to release and leave many things there, in a temporary place that would grow, burn and disappear as if no one had ever been there.

People treat the temple reverently and a wave of softness enveloped me when we walked in. We mostly walked around and read memorials and sat for a few minutes writing in our journals. I just wrote words, incomplete thoughts.  I wasn’t sure what I wanted to physically leave there yet, but imagined writing a poem during the week.

On the way out that first day, I laughed and signed a memorial that said: I forgive myself for my financial troubles.

I think it was Thursday when I popped out of bed the minute it felt warm, washed up, slathered on sunscreen, tied a sarong to go with the tank top I slept in, pulled on my boots, grabbed my pack and rode out, early morning playa. It was probably around 8ish. That had been my dream for almost a year. The light is beautiful, it’s quiet and sparsely populated. It’s just hard to get up and go that early if you’re up late the night before. It was so worth it.

 

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