Sitting in the train on my way to Berlin (again). I am trying to use as much of my "summer" as I can, given that I was robbed of two weeks of holidays with my family due to COVID. So every weekend in September and October is planned with travels. I hope I am superhuman (vaccine + COVID = 2000U/ml antibody titer right now). While all this travelling is happening, I am having a very mixed time. Managed to go to a single Burn this year kiezburn, which is the German/Berlin version of a local burn, named after the Berlin Kieze, which is just another way of saying neighborhood, but it's smaller than a neighborhood, usually. So instead of a camp at a burn, they call them Kiez at Kiezburn. I mentioned briefly in chat (and promised steve a small update, so here it is) that it was probably my toughest burn. I had a tough burn before, which was just after my weed-induced psychosis, but that was obvious why. This time, I went quite stable in my mind, not expecting 5 days of dread. I often deal with a specific feeling of loneliness. Even though I am surrounded by people, friends, I feel alone. The reasons for it are not clear to me. I always wish to be part of a "group", a crew, a gang, a swarm, whatever you call it. But I never am. I always end up swimming between swarms. Being a connecting link. Introducing people from one tribe with the other. But I never really felt part of one. My strongest relationships tend to be 1-on-1 relationships with people that are not directly connected to each other, spread across countries, cultures, and social bubbles. The only place I always felt like I belong was the burn. Any burn. Whether it was MidBurn in Israel or Borderland in Denmark. I always felt like I "found my people". This was the first time I didn't feel like it. I felt like a foreign squirrel amongst fish. One particular dynamic kept repeating. I probably didn't choose the right Kiez/camp for my first time at Kiezburn. The camp consisted of the main organizers of the burn. Which meant that they knew each other for a looong time and throughout the whole burn it was hard to disconnect from the organizational part of the event, and just be. So I went out to find me some peers, which wasn't hard. Nearly every day, I met one person or groups of people I felt comfortable with or found interesting and asked if I can tag along. It went well, at first, until, I was forgotten. People would leave (as a group) to another place, or something, without letting me know. I did cross my mind that maybe they don't want to have me around. But all of them went through the effort to find me on social media after the burn and kept contact. So I guess it wasn't that. I kept wondering why this would happen over and over. Add a little bit of alcohol, FOMO, and I end up feeling like crap every night when heading to bed. I got to talk to one person I met, who was also part of such a group, and I asked her what she thinks happened. She said that she always had the impression that I "know everyone", which lead to the assumption that I am not part of the group. Or rather, that I am "fine without a group". I have heard this a few times over the years, and I always wondered where this impression comes from. Either way, it is the opposite of what I actually feel like. This is a small excerpt of what made this burn tough. There was also a lot of miscommunication with a former lover/friend from Israel that joined me for the burn. But I learned my lesson. Never take responsibility in planning a burn for anyone but yourself. Why the heck do I keep maneuvering my self into positions where I am responsible for shit?? Long rant. Anyway. Off to Berlin for a psychedelic research conference :) If you are interested, there are live-streaming tickets and the program is quite nice https://insight-conference.eu/program/thursday/
I think a lot of clever, empathetic kids go through this from about 12 to about 30. I know I sure did. I've talked to a handful of other people who went through the same thing. I can give you the perspective of time: You are experiencing the transition between external and internal reinforcement of your self-image. You don't know who you are. You have some ideas but they're fragile and tentative. When you were growing up your identity was largely defined by those around you, those who guided you, those who wanted things for you. Parents, friends, babysitters, siblings. You're grown now and the things that you want, the things that you are have not fully absorbed/replaced/rejected the things your social circle want you to be. Confidence is performative and I've found that the most introspective people have the hardest time keeping up the charade. "Fake it 'til you make it" is genuine advice when it comes to social interaction. No irony. We're all dancing around hoping nobody notices how often our mask slips. The people who can most sociopathically silence the little voices of doubt win the game and the richer your internal life, the louder those voices scream. Eventually they start singing in harmony, though and you can accept or reject the party on its merits rather than as the Laplace transform of your mood, the lighting and the last thing your ex-girlfriend posted on Facebook. Club culture is a land of arrested development. It's something most of us grow out of. This is anathema to the Burner ethos, I know but I turned down four Burning Man documentaries between 28 and 35. It's not that people aren't going to Burning Man anymore, it's that my circle of friends ceased being obsessed with it. There comes a time when Wendy grows up and she's crestfallen that Peter Pan doesn't care half as much as he should. Her assessment of your internal fortitude is greater than your assessment of your internal fortitude. This is always 100% true everywhere forever simply because nobody gives half as much of a shit about us as we do. The melancholy you feel is because you are outgrowing a comfortable persona. You will grow into another. Your rate of growth will slow. But until then, there will be growing pains. Had you instead said "I'm kinda bummin' 'cuz I'm not as into this as I used to be" she likely would have said "I know, right?" Nostalgia and melancholy are some of the most universally accessible emotions we have; we go through high school hating every day and then an appalling number of us spend every day 'til the grave reliving those glory days as if we've accomplished nothing else with our lives. Nostalgia is safe - nothing can go wrong because it's already happened. Nostalgia is approved - we're only going to talk about the good stuff so the past is only good. You're looking back and missing what you see while looking forward you can see the dragons. It's a surprisingly universal experience that we all hide from each other so that civilization doesn't fall. Recognize the universality of your emotions, rather than their uniqueness, and you will find plenty of people who share them. And sharing emotions forms the strongest bonds of friendship.I often deal with a specific feeling of loneliness. Even though I am surrounded by people, friends, I feel alone. The reasons for it are not clear to me. I always wish to be part of a "group", a crew, a gang, a swarm, whatever you call it. But I never am. I always end up swimming between swarms. Being a connecting link. Introducing people from one tribe with the other. But I never really felt part of one. My strongest relationships tend to be 1-on-1 relationships with people that are not directly connected to each other, spread across countries, cultures, and social bubbles.
She said that she always had the impression that I "know everyone", which lead to the assumption that I am not part of the group. Or rather, that I am "fine without a group"
I got to talk to one person I met, who was also part of such a group, and I asked her what she thinks happened.
I hear your frustration, and feeling of alienation in - what you thought - was your community. That's a rough experience. Although, I see a lot of projection in what you wrote... you projecting what others are thinking about you, and I encourage you to look closely at that. Our perceptions are entirely our own. Nobody else perceives things exactly the same way we do in our own heads. So assuming motivation, thoughts, or intent on other's behalf is risky.... sometimes necessary, for safety's sake, but risky nonetheless. I like to be somewhere I can watch people and events happen. I'll stand to the side, or the back, and interact when necessary, but mostly observe and just enjoy the pageantry of humanity as it passes by, engrossed in its little stories. This used to be how I participated at most events, then people starting coming up to me and chatting... asking "do you own this place?", or "is this your event?" My calm watchfulness and enjoyment of the spectacle was taken by others as 'ownership' or some sort of control of the event in question... when in reality, I was a paying customer just like anyone else. I hear some of this in the comments others made to you... they saw you as "whole" as not "in need" and as being comfortable as is. So they didn't engage or invite you, because they assumed you already had that permission/role. Is it possible to flip the script on what you were perceiving? Maybe they didn't invite you because you didn't seem "in need" ... like the type of person that needed to be invited... or maybe they felt you were involved in bigger things than what they were up to? I don't know if that is the case. But it is a mental exercise you can walk through, and see how it fits. It might give you clarity on how better to engage with others and let them know your needs, so they can bring you in. You could decide this is a lesson in helping others hear your "wants" better, instead of them assuming you are on your own track and not interested in theirs...? Much love, my friend. Being a foreign squirrel amongst fish could be fun or completely alienating...