Through a Naturist Lens

It’s morning time and I am sitting on the deck listening to the birds sing in the sunshine. The robins are especially noisy with a few grackles trying to compete for sound space. I have the yard to myself at this time of day with no little kids visiting their grandparents on either side of my home and yard. Breakfast waits until as late as possible while I enjoy a windless morning though the temperature is only 9 Celsius.

The forecast for the day is +23 with only a breeze in sunshine. That means we will go for a walk into the countryside later this morning, a clothed walk. Once that is done, I am getting out my trusty rake to rid the front lawn of winter thatch before mowing the lawn. That has been delayed because of a lack of rainfall this spring.

I get to go for my second Covid19 vaccination tomorrow morning, something that I have been looking forward to for some time. I have a strong feeling that I will need it as we are on the cusp of opening everything up on the Canadian prairies. All but one of my children and grandchildren, with the exception of the 2 and 4 year old’s, have at least their first vaccination done. I am so looking forward to the day the border between Canada and the USA opens up so that I can visit once again our middle child’s family. Zoom isn’t the same as face-to-face.

Relationships. Our lives are centred around our relationships, and I don’t mean only the “couple” versions of relationships. Extended family, neighbours, work mates, and even those people whom we could easily categorise as undesirables. I have to add to this list, people who are no longer in our lives but whom have touched our lives in one manner or other.

If a person ends up in therapy, there is always an issue about relationships. Our issues, whether we seek mental-health therapy options or not, are grounded on these relationships that go back to the first interactions between infant and adult. No one escapes these issues. How we deal with them is a different story.

I am bringing up this topic because of my recent foray into my older journals. I am trying to clean them up so that they aren’t messy, at least the journals that exist in digital form. The paper-based journals are a different story. They will remain as they are. The digital journals often have images included. The words tell a story and the images amplify the stories told. I guess you could say that a person’s blog site or Twitter feed, and cousins such as Facebook and Instagram do the same. It is amazing what is revealed, even when one doesn’t intend on revealing closely guarded glimpses into one’s inner psyche.

Do you journal your life? How do you tell your story in your own words? Social media? Do you rummage around the past through images? What do you avoid and why? How do you process what you find in those words and images?

Somethings to think about.

This morning, I woke up early as usual to find that it had been raining for a good portion of the night. It was a very gentle rain that had filled our rain gauge to the half inch mark. After the first cup of coffee, the idea to put our houseplants, which are predominately cactus plants, outside so that they could be nourished by the rain was made. Though it was only 8 Celsius, I carried them out wearing my best waterproof outfit, my skin. My bare feet did get quite cool, but the plants will love me for the effort.

This is the first rain of the year in our corner of the universe where the drought has meant that there is a fire ban in place. Hopefully, enough rain falls to allow campers to have camp fires. The gentle rain is expected continue until midmorning tomorrow. I went back out to fill every pail that I own with rainwater from the rain barrels so that the water will be available for the garden should we return to an extended period of no rain. Water is life. Even the plants in a desert need water from time to time.

The idea of a mother nature that is also the goddess of the sea, is as ancient as human memory, an archetypal image that is embedded in all of us below the level of conscious knowledge. In so many cultures, this archetype is depicted as nude. It is only in the modern world that we somehow have cloaked the goddess in material to hide her. Not only do we pretend that mother nature is shamed by her natural nudity, we drape all young mothers-to-be as their children are born.

It is hard to imagine a goddess of the sea and the mother of the earth that would feel shame, yet that is what art now demands. The same is true for the god of the sea. Like his consort, he must now be rendered sexless. A loin cloth or an artfully draped swath of material somehow becomes part of his costume, even when he is in the sea. Modern sensibilities demand nothing less as the thought of gods and goddesses being nude, skinny dipping, and engaged in creating the world is too much to handle. Naked dreams send them scurrying to see a therapist with worries that they are somehow becoming perverts in their minds.

Life emerged from the sea. Each new life also emerges from a sea of its own, an umbilical sea. And, every single life form emerges into the world without artfully draped material hiding their nudity. Yet, almost at the moment of birth, human babies are swaddled and not because of the air temperature. It is not seemly for a baby to be naked. Humans are strange and irrational beings who need to feel the rain on their bared bodies, get in touch with their roots, the archetypal gods and goddesses who had no fear of their bodies or their sexuality.

The world has changed over the past year and something tells me that it will never go back to the normal, whatever that might be, of the world before Covid19. When I leave my house to go to get a few groceries or a needed something or other from the lumberyard, I check to make sure I have a mask with me. At times, I find that I have walked a few blocks towards a destination, only to have to go back home and get a mask when I realise that there is no mask in my pocket. Strangely, it is as if without a mask when in contact with others, I am vulnerably naked. 

Strangely, for many naturists, there are two sides of this question. The second side is “Am I missing out on something?” How do I mean that? Well, I can best explain by giving examples. When I drive from point A to point B, I see spots where I could be safely nude without drawing undue attention of others. As I pass that spot, I have this tiniest sense of loss at not experiencing that opportunity to be nude outdoors. It’s irrational as the journey is purposeful, and not a pilgrimage to another nude experience. Yet, there is always that “what if I stopped” thought that distracts me from the primary purpose of the drive.

A second example. I go to a neighbour’s home for a glass of wine and hors d’oeurvres. In all, perhaps there are four or five gathered. All of us have had at least one vaccination for Covid19, all of us are “senior” citizens, and all have seen me nude in my yard or house at some point or other. None have complained to me or made a fuss about seeing me nude.

Yet, the charade of me being anything but a nudist gets played out with me wondering, “what if I took off my clothes?” It’s that thought that infuriates me as the primary purpose is the social moment with others, none of whom are even slightly interested in nudity.

As I said above, the world has changed and it will not return to the way it used to be. Over the past year and a bit, more people have doffed their clothing to work in comfort from their homes, only putting on an item of clothing to cover their upper half when on a video conference. The assumption is that if your chest is bare, then all of you is bare.

Of course, there are “accidents” such as happened with a virtual sitting of government when person A didn’t realise that his camera was on as he returned from a run and stripped out to get ready for his participation in a virtual sitting of the House. With so many feeling liberated to be nude within the confines of their own homes, will there be that urge to expand opportunities to be nude? My best guess is, “yes!”

Will other people really care one way or the other if they see someone nude? Again, I think more people will just shrug their shoulders and perhaps give a grin while they go on with their own lives. Of course, there are others who will be offended. But then again, they will always be offended by anything that differs.

So, “what am I missing” can be answered with a thin ray of light that states, “maybe nothing.”

I have been busy with a number of things, some of which were necessary and some of which were diversionary. The latest project was to remove the raspberry patch because it was damaged by deer invading our yard this past winter. I am turning over the soil as the plan is to put in some potatoes, spinach, zucchini, and squash. I hope to finish the turning of the soil by tomorrow at some point.

Yesterday, I raised the fence between my yard and her driveway, one of the entry points for the deer. The old fence was raised about a half-foot. I will make sure that there is no large snowbank to climb to make the jump into the yard that much easier. Through the wooden slats, I was open to the view of passing traffic, as well as to the view of my friendly neighbour who has seen me nude, perhaps too often from her point of view.

Two days prior to this, I raised the fence, seen in grey wood in the background, which was the primary entry point. These boards went up a good threequarters of a foot. And yes, I wore tan-through Kiniki briefs to do the work. There is no need to frighten neighbours with so much of the fence taken down.

Yard work was only part of my busyness, the productive part to be sure. I had put my major piece of writing on hold as I focused Zen-like, on compiling a summary of my life as a naturist. That work began it’s journey in December 2004 and made it’s way to the summer of 2019 before I stopped.

Photos make a huge part of that story. I felt it was necessary to put it all together as my “journals” are spotty. I keep a naturist journal, and have done so since around 2009. However, over the years, many of the journals were tossed into the fire, so-to-speak.

Not only were the photos that accompanied each entry nudes, but the entries themselves disclosed too much as I felt it at the time. I feared discovery and what the consequences of the disclosures. Of those original naturist journals, just the last two years are relatively complete. 2017 was totally disappeared. If you know my story, then you will be familiar with the messiness of my life. It’s all in the three volume autobiography.

Of course, that soon led me to searching through my archive of nude photos to help fill in the holes for the new story. Naturally, I found holes there as well. I am able to find a number of the disappeared photos via the “allphotos” feature with Windows. Rather than explain that, I will leave it to you to Google to fill in the blanks. With all of the rummaging around in the past for these tasks, depression decided to accent the experience. I’m still not out of the depression woods, but there is light at the end of the tunnel. Of course, it isn’t all shadowy.

Somehow, that and a rare visit during Covid19 season to visit my son’s home and family helps account for my absence, not that it really requires any explanation. Being able to see my grandchildren after a five month hiatus was balm for my soul. And that, is it for now.

It’s WNGD in the northern hemisphere, unlike the southern hemisphere where winter is preparing to make its own debut. The truth is, I was in the garden two weeks ago, wearing nothing but sunshine. Today, it was quite cool outside, with wind and showers on and off. It definitely wasn’t World Naked Gardening Day here. On the up side is the fact that I got to spend a few days with my youngest grandchildren, something not so easily to accomplish during this Covid19 pandemic. For four days we are their caregivers as their parents are busy with life.

The hours race by at breakneck speed from the moment the first one wakes until the last one is tucked in for the night. I had thought that my hiking would be on pause until my return home but the two year old loves being outside. Between the stroller and the escaping to wander free of the stroller’s seat belts, I have two days of four plus kilometre excursions. Added to it is a walking nine-hole golf round with the eleven year old. Yesterday, the highlight was having the freshly turned earth trickle through his fingers. This was followed with some time collecting twigs and dead grass which he placed in the stroller to take home.

Today, he and I went for another long walk. Before we headed back to the house, we met up with his sister with the objective of collecting spruce cones for painting. There is small green space behind their home where we go in search of forest treasures. When I think about it, there is no doubt in my mind that this has indeed been a Garden day. The natural world is a garden and we have been celebrating the natural world.

I hope your world is in touch with Mother Nature today and for as many days as you can.

There is a naked Buddha in each of us. It is called Buddha nature. Unknown to some of my readers is the fact that I am oriented towards that Buddha within. In 2012, I became a Buddhist, or as it is spoken about by the Buddhist community I became a part of, I took “refuge” in Tibetan Buddhism. I was given a new name, Jetsun Rigzin Khandro, which loosely translates to the Unchanging Dharma Holder.

The only problem with all of this was the fact that I don’t, probably can’t hold to any belief system. Regardless, I did find peace as my meditation practice deepened and I learned more about the philosophy and psychology of Tibetan Buddhism, which curiously had many parallels with Jungian psychology which I have studied for almost three decades.

Now, it is hard for me to equate the philosophical and psychological principles to a religion. There is no god, no commandments, not much of anything really other than these principles. That said, it has become a religion with required reading texts, a hierarchy of a priestly caste and temples. This is where I parted company with what I can only call mainstream Buddhism which is more like a commercial enterprise. I left my sangha and focused on the Buddha within me, an aspect of self that is independent of a deity.

I approach naturism the same way. I have a hard time following rules that somehow come into being and the focus shifts for becoming a “better self’ to becoming a better community member. A real naturist, a real Buddhist, a real Christian, a real Catholic, a “real” anything that gets defined by “others” sets my radar off. Anything that takes me outside of listening to the resonances within me, becomes suspect. If it requires me to follow a creed of some sort, then I walk away. This isn’t to say that my inner compass is infallible, it isn’t. Yet, there is no “proof” that any outside authority has all the answers and is infallible. Who do I then trust?

Who do you trust? Do you give up your authority of self, over to some creed, some philosophy, some tradition, or whatever?

Many decades ago, I gave up my authority. And, it cost me. I was wounded, almost to the point of self-sacrifice through suicide. If I couldn’t trust God and his Church, all that was left was myself. I poured through various texts and found a philosophy and psychology that explained why I was drawn in. The container pointed to those words, but left them outside of their community, and focused on the words rather than the messages, the philosophy and the nature of humans, their psychological nature.

I am a naturist as self-described. I am a quasi-Buddhist and a quasi-Christian and a quasi-pagan. I am all of these, yet none of them. Who are you?

It’s April. There is no wonder that the month dedicated to practical jokes is April, think of April Fool’s Day. We had a hot spell of two days where I got to do hiking in the hills wearing a backpack and hiking socks and shoes. Hiking rewarded me with the sight of hundreds of crocuses, more than a dozen deer, and a few tiny white flowers, as well as a hint of red on my back. That was followed by two cold, windy days with snow making a reappearance.

Yesterday, it began to warm up a bit, not enough to again take to the hills, but warm enough to warrant another ten kilometre hike. Then today, it warmed up again for a pleasant twelve kilometre walk in the morning with temperatures reaching ten Celsius. This afternoon, the temperature continued to rise.

I got to meditate at the entrance of my garden shed where I could stay out of the strong winds. I was loathe to return to the house when done and stayed outside to enjoy some tea It was glorious. Tomorrow, it is again supposed to snow, with a repeat snowfall predicted for two days later. The cold spell is supposed to last only for four days. Then, double digit temperatures are promised.

I have taken a lot of effort to make my backyard naturist friendly. Between a strategically placed privacy fence [too expensive to wrap the whole yard with such a fence at this time of high lumber prices, let alone about availability of fencing materials] the garden shed, and a hedge, I have real opportunities for backyard naturism.

Of course, the neighbours to each side of our property as well as across the back lane are well aware of my tendency to be outdoors and nude. They’ve all seen me nude and accept it. Perhaps it has been the building of positive relationships with these neighbours that has had the biggest impact on my backyard nudity. Perhaps it has more to do with the fact that they have my autobiographical books and the Naked Poetry books. I don’t ask and they don’t offer.

A good portion of the adults in this prairie town have either bought or borrowed my autobiographical books with tell the story of how and why I had turned to naturism as one of my healing strategies for childhood sexual abuse, physical abuse, and emotional abuses. Before these books appeared, I was the school principal in the town, a respected man.

Somehow, I get the feeling that I am still respected. Living in a small town can either make you or break you. Coming into such a town for the last leg of one’s working life makes the journey into acceptance into a tight agricultural community that much harder. My books are now placed in the community library, donated by myself. I trusted the town with my story and they responded positively in return.

There is just one line I dare not cross too loudly. I keep my politics pretty much to myself and never get loud about being liberal oriented in a distinctly conservative community. In the larger naturist community, I try to do the same when in dialogue with those who are “conservative-minded.” I believe that this willingness to “live” authentically without being “in your face” has made the biggest difference in surviving as a naturist in a small prairie town.

The idea of testing the water is more about trying naturism out before making a decision whether a person decided to continue exploring the possibilities or to retreat back into what I can only call, normal life. Quite a few tell me that naturism is normal life. The idea is that naturists, or call them whatever, do normal things just like normal people. The only difference is that they do some of those things while nude. Now, you know as well as I do that “normal” is defined as that which is the “norm. If you live in a naturist year-round community, being nude is normal in all senses of the word. However if you are significantly in the minority then you aren’t “normal.”

All of that aside, things change and what is normal at one point in time is abnormal in another era. Men in tights with wigs and makeup was normal for one class of people several hundred years ago – for a minority mind you, but the peasants opinions didn’t count. Along the upper reaches of the Amazon River, being nude was the norm. But, as much as National Geographic might try to persuade you, it isn’t the norm anymore. The kids now go to schools and wear clothes. The adults do get nude, especially if there is money to be made from tourists. I got to visit one of these small tribes. It is still rustic and primitive for the most part, but civilisation has begun to change them.

It is with this hope that with some effort and encouragement, we might just get more people to test the waters of naturism with the result that we finally reach the point where nude people are closer to normal status. Will there ever be a time when clothing will not be a significant part of our culture? Not in my lifetime or the lifetime of my “as of yet” born great-grandchildren. Being honest with oneself about this fact lets us accept that what little time and place and space we have for nude time, is to be treasured. To waste time on becoming missionaries is just that, “wasted time.”

Even those of us who are committed body, mind and soul to the mission of enjoying as much of our time, whether alone or among others while clothing free, need to continually test the waters, safely as we push our own boundaries, pushing the envelope of just what is possible. Who knows? Maybe one day, being nude might just become the norm. Just don’t hold your breath until then.

Is it spring or is it winter? Snow one minute, sunshine and warmth the next, only to return to overcast and dropping temperatures. That is how I can best describe the Canadian prairies at this time of year. There have been days recently, that said, ‘maybe you can go free-hiking.’ The temperature is just about right and it is sunny. Yet, as soon as one steps outside to take such a walk, there is a prairie wind that subtracts between five to ten degrees. And so, I have to tell myself to be patient. The weather and time will come so that I can once again go hiking au naturel.

I woke up to snow this morning. Hiking while nude was not going to be on the agenda. Instead, I compromised and wore warm clothes to get in my daily walk into the countryside. Since the New Year, I have hiked more than 500 km [300 miles], all of them while wearing layers of clothing. I have to walk. It is the only way I can maintain some sort of fitness.

When I add in meditation, the two act in concert to lower my blood pressure and body weight. Of course, diet is vital in having this happen. By that, I don’t mean going on a diet, I mean eating healthy – vegetables, fruits, grains, root veggies, and a variety of meat choices. When I don’t follow my own rules, I suffer. A recent post spelled that out in detail. I can now say my body has regained some of what had been lost. As a result, my mental well-being is better.

Unsaid in the last post, was the role that being clothing free plays in maintaining better mental health. Nudity is therapy. One doesn’t need social nudity in order to gain psychological benefits that comes with nudity. If one is able to spend some time in the sunshine, even if through a window, the body responds. When the body responds, the psyche responds. Social nudity acts upon a different level of the psyche. Since humans are basically social animals, being able to be nude safely in the company of others who affirm and reaffirm one’s being part of the group, adds significantly to one’s sense of self-identity. Social nudity encourages one to set aside self-criticism. The need for protective camouflage and strategies in order to find a tentative sense of belonging, is unnecessary.

Yet, for those of us who have very little, if any, opportunities for social nudity, especially in this era of a pandemic, getting outside to be nude in the sunshine along some river, sea, or lake; or walking down some nature trail where people are rare and wildlife live in safety; that is the best psychological medicine one can get. For a lucky few, outdoor nudity, healing outdoor nudity, gets to happen in one’s own private spaces in a garden.

I realise that many, too many, live in urban areas that are distant from sacred forests, meadows, and waters. There are real barriers of an economic nature that don’t allow for making the necessary journeys to find these places. For these people, perhaps the best that is available is quiet meditation in a bedroom. Whatever one’s condition, one can only do what is possible. We take what we can get. No one is better than another. The person living nude 24/7 365 days a year is no more of a naturist than one who steals precious moments just to remain sane. We need to remember that.

How many minutes a day does it take to be a real nudist or a real naturist? It isn’t measured in minutes or hours or days. It is a state of mind. Tune out those voices who judge. Listen instead to your body, mind and soul. Those are the only voices that count.

The sun is shining and there is a breeze blowing across the prairie landscape. It is quite cool. I woke up to -4 Celsius. Yesterday afternoon and evening, it was a different story. There was rain, wind, and a +2 Celsius temperature when I got this photo taken by the fireplace for this post. Though it is now sunny out, there is very little sunshine that makes it inside of me for whatever reason. I blame it on physiological reasons, rather than mostly psychological reasons. Sometimes, it is hard to separate the two. It becomes a “chicken and egg” dilemma. Which came first?

Physiologically, over the past ten days, I have been having a headache, something I blamed on strong winds, snow mold, and whatever. I was trying to find a reason for the headaches. My psychological mood was very low. My self-esteem tanked. Relationship issues reared its ugly head creating tension. Why?

I had to go to a medical appointment because of an eye issue. A routine blood pressure reading was taken. The numbers were high, very high. He wanted me to begin taking BP meds and I refused. This had happened in the past and I knew I could get it all under control with determined effort. My go-to strategy in the past had been walking, meditation, and diet control. Upon thinking about it, my salt intake had spiked – baked ham, ham-pea soup, and a few other delicious but salt-infested foods. My body weight had risen as well over this very short period of time from 169 to 176 pounds. None of this is good news for an aging male.

Four days ago, I returned to meditation. Walking will continue. And now, I just have to begin watching what I eat – very little salt. Hopefully the headaches will disappear and the blood pressure will drop. With less salt, there will be less water retention and my body weight will return to its normal number. With the body back in control, hopefully the depression will dissipate as well.

Each of us, when faced with the need for change, needs to take stock and make decisions. The easiest route is through the body. Healthy body makes for a healthier mind. Naturists know this.