when worlds collide

My first Burningman experience was a glorious affair full of wonder. I got to look at and experience a world like no other with a child's eyes, mind, and heart. And it was without a doubt a most fantastic and beautiful adventure.
But for my second Burningman, I think my experience was through the eyes of an adolescent. Yes, I had been there before though much of it was still left to be experienced, but I was no longer the prodigal virgin being encouraged to shatter the bell at the greeting station. I was this time truely coming home.
As I decompress and try to process the grandness of this year's burn, I have concluded that this was a year of being surrounded by worlds of opposition. I feel like this year was a study in dichotomy, a year when worlds collided and afterwards I am left to figure out what to do with the shards and shrapnel left behind.
A prime example of this dichotomy was the weather. I mean...hello? did anybody else feel like the two pigs who made their houses out of sticks and straw? I'm sure the people in RVs felt a little bit more like the third pig with the bricks. From raging storms to warm nights slowly bleeding into the most beautiful sunrises, it was pretty clear that we were at the mercy of mother playa and she was feeling a little bipolar.
Another big example for me was who I thought I would spend time with and who I actually ended up spending time with. How people I know very little took the time to seek me out and how people who have a huge place in my heart never did. How you can carry assumptions and expectations with you onto the playa but in the end those are blown away with the dust storms.
Then one very tangible instance was when somebody who I have random moments with thanked me for doing a very small and seemingly innocuous thing. And that very same thing ended up being a knife in another's heart who has a real presence in my life.
And of course there is always the raging study in opposition when you spend time with and connect with people in what seems like a very real and profound way and believe it to be the most wonderful thing ever...just to have the connection utterly diffused and confused the next time you see them.
In the end, for me, the burn was a week of highs in one direction and then highs in the completely opposite direction. There weren't really any lows, just a series of incredibly intense moments on opposite ends of whatever light spectrum Burningman happens to rest within (or without). I guess when I set out my intention for grandness, I should have been more specific and asked for it in a limited capacity.
Now, after it is all said and done, I suppose it is my job to find the proper perspective to create a balance between these worlds of opposition so that these experiences can co-exist within me comfortably. And for me, that is a difficult job, and because of the difficulty of the job I am struggling through a intense and formidable lesson...one I'm still working on...for quite a few years. But it's a good thing, no...a grand thing.