On what the fuck just happened to us (I think).

(It should be noted that just today, Lauren and I had a laugh over how much of a scientist I turn into when left to my own devices. So really, this post is her fault.)

As Dom was quick to point out (and this is what got me thinking about this today), there was a fairly consistent theme in the farewell speeches on BiSC's final brunch - that people's lives were changed, that unlikely bonds were forged in the crucible of debauchery, and so on and so forth. It was heartwarming to watch; there was a veritable glow that ensconced the room, a magnified form of the pervasive safeness that colored the event.

And as I sat back, smiling and clapping, I couldn't help but think - This is statistically improbable. Seventy widely disparate near-strangers should not be able to simultaneously relax their guards and intermesh so seamlessly in such a short span of time. This many people should not have felt a life-changing stir within them. And yet, it happened. Why? It couldn't have just been that everyone there was amazing (though we most certainly were); with an open registration, certainly some bad apples could have gotten into the bag. No, it had to be more than just the people involved.

So what else was there? The setting, certainly; I spoke yesterday on the effect the city of Las Vegas has on a person, on the schism that occurs between one's present and one's past and future. And yet even that wasn't enough to explain the phenomenon I observed. No, the event itself, in conjunction with the locale and the attendees, that managed to pull this ridiculous feat off.

Pursuant to Maslow's hierarchy of needs, it could be assumed that most BiSCuits had at least the first tier (physiological needs) down, while the second tier (security needs) was a little iffy. The magic of the event itself was in some of its most unglamorous features - organized dinners and activities that absorbed a significant amount of the guesswork out of our days. We would eat at this time, meet up at this time at this location to do this thing. Our first tier was automatically fulfilled, our second obviated by the fucklessness Vegas itself inspires.

And with our everyday anxieties and worries stashed safely away, we were free to kick things off at the third tier from the start. It might seem like a subtle detail, but its impact can be seen in how we're all still charged by the unity we found. The fact is, walking into that registration room, we weren't worried about rent or feeding the cat or the deadline on that project. All we wanted to do was to connect with people. And since we'd all registered months in advance, even this data pool was carefully controlled - we didn't know each other, but we knew of each other. Enough to know that we were safe, despite the electricity of facing the unknown.

So what it comes down to is that this weekend was essentially seventy or so friendships put on the fast track. Each niggling worry that was removed from our shoulders freed up that much more of our hearts. We sought kinship; it wasn't long before that kinship became respect not just for our compatriots, but for ourselves as well. And from there, self-actualization, the true budding and growth of our selves, was inevitable.

At least, that's my theory, anyway.