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Hello friends, As my window of time is limited and inspiration reliably strikes while flying above the Earth, this is a mid-flight into Late Night Letter. I’m starting in seat 30A, a back-of-the-plane window seat, gazing over the summer-scorched sonoran desert as our plane banks towards Seattle for the second year of the Festival of Yes. I say “we” because directly in front of me in seat 29A is Baggins, a DJ that some of you also affectionately know as “The Dice Man.” We didn’t know we booked the same flight, let alone that we’d get adjacent window seats to each other. It feels like luck and good omens to me. Dozens of people that I am inspired by, that lift me, and that I love very much, are all in transit right now, converging on an empty, large-pond-sized bowl among the mossy, lush volcano forests of Washington State. The aim is to co-create a potent pocket of space and time to share our gifts, to go no-holds-barred on celebration, and if things go really well, touch or be more in touch with our own, unique electric golden thread. Over a decade now, I have been attempting to follow my electric golden thread. It is a thread so thin I can’t even see it and many times I have worried I have lost it along the way. I know the thread is electric and golden neither by sight nor logic, but by feel alone. I feel the lack of the electric golden thread when I have lost it. And I feel it when I have found it again. I know when I have touched my electric golden thread because all my navigational instruments go berserk: I am consumed with interest, strongly swing between excitement and fear, and my inner compass spins wild and erratic with no place I would rather be. I am often emotionally overcome and know this flight is heading in the right direction as I keep doing this incredulous “no way” sort of head shake and I’ve twice now shed tears of joy. Over time, I have come to trust the feeling of the electric golden thread more than any other means of navigation in my life. Every time it zings and I follow, I learn to give it even more attention and put more energy into going where it seems to go. Such zings have led to many of the best experiences of my life: pedaling a bicycle across the United States, years of shoestring travel while reading books, landing on the CoolWorks website which sent me straight into running the Range Rider’s Lodge, the first WONDER WANDER, the In This Together Bumper Sticker, the Cosmic Consciousness speech I gave last year at the Festival of Yes, and "The Power of Yes” interview I’m about to do this weekend each entered my awareness with this zing of electric golden gnosis that seems to me to mean “this is what you are here to do.” It’s been six years since I threw the first WONDER WANDER. Only in the last two years have I begun to understand why WONDER WANDER, Festival of Yes, Burning Man, and other experiences that ask us not to observe, but to actively participate in creating the event are so powerful and potentially transformative: they ask what our electric golden thread is. And not just what it is, but to share it. And if we muster the courage to show up and share our electric golden thread, in a participatory experience, we get into the real magic of weaving them together. There are 11 days left to apply for WONDER WANDER 2024. While applications tend to come at the last minute, more than a few of the dozen spots are still open. If you’re curious about weaving electric golden threads in this incredible octagonal house on five acres bordering Saguaro National Park, wandering about the desert, and philosophizing under the stars, I hope you’ll consider joining this October. With love & stoke, Ethan
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