It seems as though I’ve come down with a minor case of the post-festival blues.

Everything leading up to the event had me swarming with butterflies and uncontrollably smiling. The entire weekend was a beautiful blur of sights and sounds that fled all too quickly. Though every flash of it was divine, I missed it before it had even come to an end. And now? Now I feel what can only be described at best as fierce nostalgia and at worst a sort of postpartum (festival) depression.

Think about it! We give birth to these moments that cultivate within us from conception to creation. We carry the proverbial child for an extended weekend and relish in the experiences that nurture us through and through. Can we really be blamed for not wanting to let that go?

Although we don’t want the weekend to ever end, the music to turn down, or our newly acquired friends to part ways; there comes a time where we must cut the umbilical chord. A newborn experience has just entered into the world and it’s thumping, bassy heartbeat will always hold a place in our heart. Let that baby boogie. Don’t be the overbearing parent who doesn’t let your child run free!

Not-so-spoiler alert ahead:

It’s easier said than done. Sometimes this throws us into a loop or we fall into a funk. All we want to do is listen to playlists of our favorite sets, close our eyes, and receive the shrilling chills that take us back to all our loving weirdos. You know damn well that just doesn’t quite compare though. What are we to do?

First things first. Our ol’ pal serotonin is still on the struggle bus making his way back to the brain. He’s bound get off at the wrong stop (several times), but he’ll make it back. They always come back. Be patient because upon return he will have a mixtape of your favorite moments from the festival. You won’t just be listening to the live sets on repeat anymore. You will feel them once again.

It hasn’t even been a month since Lucidity (my last event) and I’m still fiending for all of that festival love. The perpetual flow of sincerity and genuine human connection begs to be nourished. The music. Oh the music! This is not the comedown I was expecting…

Sometimes the road to recovery is in silence. Sometimes it is in the music. With that said, I give to you: the antidote.

Appreciate the break we get in between events. All good things come to an end. And often endings give rise to good things. Know that we are fortunate enough to observe these instances in time as they become timeless. So don’t get down. Get up AND get down! And get a little funky too. The events aren’t going anywhere. If they ever do, we will follow.

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