Side Quests & The Power of a Name

What Electric Forest taught me about human connection

I went to my first music festival in the US last weekend - Electric Forest. I hadn’t planned on writing about it, but a few things I witnessed over the weekend left me compelled to share some thoughts on connection in the Forest.

I went with my little brother, who’s a longtime Forest expert. For years he’s told me that Electric Forest is impossible to fully explain. You just have to feel it for yourself.

When I first arrived, though, I had a fair amount of reverse culture shock. Compared to Europe, everything and everyone felt so over the top. The outfits, the totems, the sparkle. It was honestly a bit jarring at first.

In Europe, festivals feel more like an opportunity for people to dance together. There’s a shared rhythm, but it’s less about being seen individually. In the US, though, I noticed a big cultural thread running through the Forest: the spirit of PLUR (Peace, Love, Unity, Respect). It’s not just a rave slogan. It’s an ethos that invites people to go all in, to dress wild, to hand out trinkets, to connect with strangers on the most playful level.

As the days unfolded, I started to see what was really happening there. People show up to connect. To be witnessed. And at festivals like this, they find it.

On my first day in the Forest, I saw it immediately. People handing out trinkets to strangers, gifting bracelets, offering hugs, sharing little moments of joy. Seeing people vibing to the same beat and locking eyes saying “I see you” without words.

As someone who shows up to boogie, one of my favorite moments was when a man came up to me and said, “I’ve been watching you dance, and you’ve earned this.” He handed me a sticker that read: Shake your ass to the beat. We laughed, chatted for a while, and parted ways with the hope that one day we might reconnect in Chicago.

Moments like these were countless. People dropping by to place sprouts on my backpack. Me handing out flower crowns whenever I saw someone lost in the music. Tiny offerings that said, I see you.

Two of the nights, I split off from my brother to catch acts I love (Ahmed Spins, Blond:ish, Arc de Soleil, Maz). One of my favorite parts of Electric Forest became these “side quests.” If you’re unfamiliar, a side quest is when you wander off on your own, open to wherever the path may lead.

Side quests were where the real magic of connection happened for me. There’s a whole new energy for conversation when you’re on your own. I can’t even begin to count the number of strangers that I met - each interaction leaving its own little mark.

One highlight: After an epic night dancing to Ahmed Spins and then Blond:ish, the music ended and we were told to head back to camp as a storm was rolling in. Thunder cracked overhead, and I let out a little shriek. Right next to me, a stranger smiled and said, “Ohhhh that’s a big one.”

We fell into step together for the long walk back, talking about the rain, our lives, how to make friends, and what human connection means. We parted ways with a hug and well wishes. His name was Miles.

I never expected to see him again. But the next day, back at the festival grounds, I spotted a guy on someone’s shoulders (slapping a bag of Moscato). I yelled “Miles” and without missing a beat he grinned, “Lauren!” We shared a quick moment of recognition, I slapped the bag, and we carried on our merry ways.

It’s such a small thing to remember someone’s name but that’s what stuck with me the most. I’m sure he’d met just as many people as I had over the weekend, and yet we each held on to the other’s name. That moment reminded me of the power of a name. The power of saying “I see you. I remember you.”

As the Forest wrapped up, I was sad to be reentering regular life. I’d miss the music, of course, but I’d miss the way people so openly and so joyfully connect as their truest selves.

I’ve been thinking a lot about how we might carry a piece of that forward. We may not be able to hand out sprouts or flower crowns in daily life (though I say why not?). But we can gift each other names and we can remember them.

And sometimes that’s all it takes to say, “I see you.