Before every festival, I choose one thing from the programming I want to try that's different from life back home. The experimentation depends on the festival (hoo boy, Burning Man is my Mecca), but it doesn't have to be huge to make a difference in how I live my life. This past week, while driving from San Francisco to Bradley, California for top-tier transformational fest Lightning In a Bottle , the Clueless soundtrack buzzing in my ear, the THING I needed to try struck me like lightning. Yoga. Despite eight active years in the festival scene, I've never actually done it at a festival. (I’d decided late-night dance floor contortions don't count.) 

Yoga had never grabbed my interest before. I'd much rather go to a flash fiction writing workshop or “Soldering 101,” but loving friends have tried to get me to do it before. I usually mumble an excuse, citing my lack of airy clothing that isn’t black or that I, um, need to organize my tent for a few hours. But not this time – I was determined. I told anyone who’d listen that I would review the schedule, pick an interesting class, and do it. No reason why I couldn't find an hour to do some guided stretching amidst five full days of festing, right? I even hoped the practice I chose would creep into my arsenal of personal growth tools back home. However... yoga didn't happen. It was too hot. I slept in every morning, because I was out late every night. Morning yoga is tough when you’re coming back from partying at, you know, sunrise. I was laying in bed mid-morning on Saturday when my friends came in, looking refreshed and happy from a class. The thought of doing downward dog in direct sunlight made me nauseous.

But you know what? Yoga or not, I still reached my goal. I experimented with new things anyway.

This year, Lightning In a Bottle offered attendees the chance to arrive a day early, to ease one's way in and set up before things got hectic. Fest300's editor Laura Mason and I set up our humble little camp late Wednesday afternoon, and set off to explore the grounds, which were still under construction. Our first stop of the night was the Lucent Temple of Consciousness for a Cacao Ceremony and Sound Healing, led by world musician Porangui & healer Daniel Raphael. The pair led a crowd of around two hundred through gratitude mantras under the soft, sloping roof of the Temple. On plush cushions strewn across the floor, we raised our arms to the North, South, East and West, "Father Sky," and down to "Mother Earth," and repeated after our leaders. I avoid workshops that involve chanting, so I was surprised when none of this felt silly. Afterwards, we sipped the silky elixir and I focused on "soaking in" the cacao's disarming properties. Even though it was probably the caffeine, standing up gave me a rush and I allowed myself to believe the mixture was working to open up my heart. 

We meandered across the way into "Elixart Tasting Experience," an aphrodisiac elixir workshop at The Village Stage. I’ll admit it. We were intrigued. Does that stuff work? We sipped piping hot saffron and ginger-infused potions as our hosts discussed the world awaiting us once the herbs took hold... I think the jury’s still out on that one.

One of my favorite spots for the weekend was the Tea Temple by Om ShanTea. A small hut nestled between the booming Lightning Stage and ecstatic dance haven Yoga Om, the Tea Temple was sitting-room only and covered wall to ceiling in a muted array of tapestries, pillows and ornamental lighting. I’m not a big tea drinker, but consciously savoring the liquid inside these small clay cups was like reaching calm waters after a torrent of white water rapids. Watching steam rise from the glass pots as hot water made contact with the densely packed leaves was meditative, and I ended up there every night.

I took in an enlightening talk by Fest300's Creative Director Eamon Armstrong on the male archetype and rites of passage, and reflected on how men and women can best learn from each other. After sharing his ideas, Armstrong opened the floor to the packed house at The Village Stage . Men and women came to the stage with poignant insights, stories and life advice. A lovely bespectacled woman, who had lost her voice but still got up there, asked that we reconsider the pressure we put on each other to "owe" sexual favors. Another young man's moment on stage was the first time he publicly acknowledged identifying as a woman. At The Mystery School on Thursday, Cameron Bowman , aka The Festival Lawyer and a Fest300 favorite, had the crowd's full attention as he doled out practical legal advice specially tailored for festies. Do you know your festival-related rights in California? An elimination-style interactive game tested to see if we were as smart as we believed. To start, everyone stood up and if you got a question wrong, you had to sit. By the end of the five questions, only ten-ish people remained standing, while the rest of us busied ourselves with the wallet-sized fact cards Bowman handed out.

When Sunday evening rolled around, I climbed the Meditation Lookout to take in my final sunset. As I looked around at folks chilling amidst the decorations and talismans laid lovingly around the hilltop, I knew I wasn't going to make it to any yoga classes – and that was totally fine. My experience wasn't insufficient because I didn't reach my goal. My goal simply evolved, and I was still able to experience many different and new things. Yes, I set an intention and didn't follow through, but I got swept up in LiB's fantastic offerings and that’s what it's all about. At a festival like LiB, it's impossible not to be tempted at every turn, thanks to its hundreds of classes and workshops, immersive environments, games and activities. Be it hardcore wandering, noodling on the dance floor or getting Vitamin B12 injected in my ass, my weekend was awesome. 

I'll have plenty of other festival yoga opportunities. Plus, as a person on the move who finds slowing down to be a challenge, I hope the meditative elements of these activities will stay with me. I've been home for a few days now and feel nothing missing, no regrets that I didn't do the one thing I set out to do – and that's transformative enough for me.