Month: November 2021

Life is complicated. There are so many unknowns that influence a person’s life, almost too many at times. At first is all seems so simple. Then, we get older. The older a person gets, the more complex even the simplest of things become. In this image, Joy is pondering just how complex relationships are.

Take love for example. A person falls in love and that love is often mirrored by that other person with whom one has fall in love. It’s simple. “I’m in love!” No other explanation is needed. One dives deep into that love. And as I have written about before, the conscious mind [ego] doesn’t have a say in whether one is in love or not. Then, time passes and the mind has to deal with the result.

Usually, well perhaps not as the divorce and separation stats appear to soar, as the two parties become consciously self and other aware, there is a change in the nature of love and in the relationship between each other. And, things do change, and not always for the better. Both parties find themselves in a new world when they see the person they had chosen as a life partner become strangers. Have they become strangers? Each person as the veil of love is lifted become more and more themselves. What that looks like to the other person is that he or she is now a stranger.

Because of a shared history, there are choices to be made for the survival of the relationship. Sometimes the choice is easy, when there is a gross level of disrespect, a level of danger [either physical or mental], a high level of comfort and trust built over the years, etc. For the rest, it is a matter of time and rekindling those things that had initially bonded the two. However, for perhaps too many, it becomes an economic choice or one based on the fear of being alone. There are no right or wrong answers to be given as each relationship has their own, unique combination of factors.

As Joy so wisely puts it: “I’m still dealing with the complexities of that love even just this morning… our dance seems to be never ending.”

In a conversation with Lanie about today’s post, she let me know that today was her birthday. And as she put it, “it’s my birthday today so what better than to share a pic of me in my birthday suit.”

One of the things about being a naturist/nudist is the fact that each time we go without clothing we reconnect with our physical centre. Nudity grounds a person like nothing else. Nudity tells each of us the truth of who we are, tells us things that most of us never want to know nor let others know about us. Each time we dare to honestly see ourselves is an act of renewing our contract with ourselves.

Birthdays are reminders that too many are quick to dismiss for the notion of birth has an implied death waiting in the wings. Birthdays then become solemn reminders that we are getting older and closer to extinction. For many, birthdays are a time to focus outward, away from self and party. Things and people become a drug to nullify the existential angst of getting older.

In a way, that celebration of being alive is an act of defiance. The world is not such a gentle place. Ask any animal or other life form. Life is a constant battle for survival. Though a storm may be raging, we dare to continue to be present.

People such as Lanie and myself [among many other naturists that I have come to know] birthdays are not feared. Whether we are celebrating indoors or outdoors, celebrating alone or with others, naturists dare to look honestly at themselves, not with a critical eye, but simply to honour the fact that their body has given them a home. Wrinkles, scars, blemishes, are owned and accepted as “this is me, now.”

We went out for a 10 kilometre walk this morning. The sky was overcast and the temperature was -2 Celsius with a southwest breeze. We walked at a brisk pace for us, five km/hr. Being shorter than most, and being in our seventies doesn’t let us walk much faster most of the time. Now, we are back in our home with our fireplace enough of a heat source for me to feel comfortable in my own skin. I don’t wear clothing unless we have company or it’s time for a meal. It just is the way it is. In our home, that is normal.

When the weather is cooperative, I am outdoors in our yard the same way, clothing free. Our neighbours know that this is the case and have accepted that as normal. It’s not what one could call social nudity as I am the only one nude. Because of Covid, I haven’t been to the AANR-WC club closest to my home for two years, a club that is four hours distant from my home. Hopefully, that will change come next summer.

I’ve been reading a number of social media posts that have certain individuals want to control the nudist/naturist universe. The authors of these posts are adamant about who is or isn’t a nudist. For them, it becomes almost religious as though written in some sort of bible that just being nude does not qualify a person to self-identify as a nudist. Of course, in each of these attempts to “control” the narrative, these writers take it upon themselves do judge people as nudists only if these people do what the writers do, and how they do it.

Control of others is always an indicator that the person has a poor self-concept and needs to be constantly validated by others who “follow” willingly. It’s as if “Well, they are following me so I must be right and okay” is the needed drug of choice. Of course, it all comes down to “self” in the end.

I self-identify as a male, a father, a husband, a grandfather, as a naturist, as an author, as an Indigenous Canadian, as a Métis, as …. Well, you get it, I self-identify. Others may dispute any one part for whatever reason that comes to mind. However, when they do, it really isn’t about me, it is always about them. In depth psychology, it is called projection.

As a result, whenever I see a person or a group seeking to control others, I begin to think that the person or group has a real issue with controlling themselves. What are your thoughts?

The sun isn’t up yet as I enter these words onto my keyboard on Remembrance Day. The day is meant as a time of reflection. Though I had issues with my father who was anything but a good father, I do recognise that life hadn’t dealt him a fair hand either. He was a child in the dirty thirties, found himself a father when he was only eighteen when he joined the military to take part in the Korean War. He was injured there but thankfully survived and returned home. He was a wounded warrior in many ways. Those wounds coloured the remainder of his life. Why did he go to war when there was a child at home and another on the way? Only he knew, if even he knew. Before he died in a veterans’ hospital, we had reconciled. My anger had been spent and I felt nothing but sadness for what we had both lost over the years. He was my father and I loved him just because of that. And I know, in his own way, he loved me as well.

Being wounded by life seems to be a natural condition. We don’t need wars to be wounded. The effect on the human psyche is the same whether the wounds are physical or mental. Everyone is wounded, though not all know this. The wounding begins not long after birth, a necessary wounding so that a dependent baby eventually becomes an independent adult. Have you ever wondered why those who appear to have everything going for them – a good family, education, wealth, health, and the respect and love of others – why they suffer? It doesn’t make sense that these golden people get divorced, become alcoholics and/or drug addicts, and sink into the darker regions.

Survival is what counts first, when one has been wounded. How one survives ranks second. Surviving comes first. Once physical survival has been achieved, the how becomes a series of choices one makes consciously or unconsciously over the rest of one’s life. Even “floating in the wind” rather than controlling to some degree the choices with which one is faced, is a choice. For some, such as myself, naturism was a choice, a choice that pulled me away from the brink of self-annihilation.

Like I said earlier, the first task is to survive, and yes, my survival was at risk. My wife, my children, and my grandchildren are glad that I chose life, a choice that I had to make a number of times over the decades from adolescence on. I imagine that others are also glad. Though it might not be evident to a person on the brink of extinction, one is never alone. Every survival has its impact, every death has its impact. Not all have a choice when it comes to surviving. Death on a battlefield, in a car, in a fire, etc., doesn’t exactly provide one with a choice.

However, if “will” allows for the choice between surviving or not, the choice to survive is a monumental task in itself. That task remains constant for those who have suffered the most. The will to survive despite one’s wounds are what heroes are made of. For all of his brokenness, my father was a hero.

As usual, I was up to greet the day while it was still dark out. As I was sitting by the fireplace nursing my second cup of coffee I saw the sky gradually begin to lighten. And then I saw a sliver of the moon with the rest of the moon barely visible in shadow. There was no mistaking that what I saw was the whole circular surface of the moon and that retaught me that though one can’t see something, it doesn’t mean it isn’t there. That’s not an easy lesson for those who can only believe what they see.

Too many are imprisoned with their handbag filled with their incontrovertible truths. If their five primary senses don’t align with what is clutched desperately as fundamental truth, then it is obviously false. When the senses tell someone one story and science tells them a different story, science generally is set aside. Though not everyone sees, hears, smells, tastes, or feels the same, meaning that their sensory input cannot be trusted, does not deter them from fervently believing otherwise.

Yet, there is a back door for truths to be embedded, through the subconscious. Advertising and mass media, and trusted groups such as religions, repeat messages to the point where the messages are then held as truths. Tell a lie often enough, then it is held closely as a personal and collective truth.

So what does this have to do with naturism? Everything. People gravitate to naturism because of a number of reasons including sensory pleasure. However, most don’t. The power of the collective unconscious that has been pummeled with negative imaging for centuries upon centuries, is enormous. Should one see a nude human, the first response is surprise, then fear, and then anger. That initial response can be broken down over time for some people. And that, is the motivation for the #NormalisingNaturism movement.

And just a footnote: Yes, the temperature was below freezing this morning when I took this photo. For many this would too much for their senses to handle. For myself, it wasn’t unpleasant in the least as there was no wind. Different bodies, different responses to the same stimuli.