The most surprising and joyful moment of my first Burning Man was this: I was biking past some tents when someone held out an icy pink snow cone to me. It was so quick that I couldn’t even stop cycling; they simply put it in my hand. I whooped my thanks and saw them hand another snow cone to the cyclist behind me. I was overjoyed to have been given a cold treat and delighted by the silliness of how it happened.
Everyone loves to sh*t on Burning Man, but the ethos of gift-giving at this yearly festival changed my life. Along with Leave No Trace and Radical Inclusion, Gifting is one of the ten principles that shape community and culture at Burning Man. People bring gifts of massive art sculptures and experiences, gifts of food and drink, gifts of music and dancing, gifts of giant shaded spaces with hammocks to swing in. There is no money exchange in the entire festival (well, you can buy ice for your coolers) and everyone is welcome everywhere.

This is me at Burning Man in 2019, greeting people arriving at the event.
When I returned from my first Burning Man in 2014, I was bursting with gratitude. I was so inspired by what I had been given – dance workshops, incredible music, sculptures that I could climb and play on, and a warmth from strangers I hadn’t expected. And my way of bringing the culture of Burning Man to my everyday life was to give little felt heart pins to everyone that I met.
For several years, I surprised everyone from grocery store clerks to bus drivers with my hearts. Queen Street Yoga (our name before we became The Branches) was a hub of heart-giving activity. Most folks had them on their yoga mat bags, or sweatshirts. I always had a stash of hearts in my pockets, ready to give.
The hearts took a pause during the pandemic, but for several years they were my everyday invitation to look at people and offer a gift. It was a small thing – a piece of felt, and a pin – but more often than not, people responded with huge appreciation. It was a tiny gift, but reaching past our cultural norms and offering a touchpoint of connection was truly meaningful to people. Their responses were a gift to me, and kept me cutting hearts late into the evening.
Burning Man taught me to lead with generosity, to seed the culture that I want to live in by giving to others. The hearts taught me that generosity doesn’t have to be flashy or expensive – it was the simple act of giving something that created connection and sparked gratitude both ways.
In our current cost-of-living crisis it can feel challenging to feel generous or grateful. We might feel like we need to hold on to everything we have, and that even that isn’t enough. I don’t deny that we are at a crux in our country right now, and that change is badly needed. And, I also want to remind myself of that old lesson of leading with generosity, of sharing something simple, and finding my way back to gratitude and connection.
In October we’re going to be focusing on growing our gratitude, and to lead the way, we’ve created a number of special gifts for you. We hope you make it into the studio in October to participate and see what we have in store for you.
Thank you for all the ways you show up in our community.
With heartfelt appreciation,
Emma