Through a Naturist Lens

Well, it seems like the first three months of this blog site have been moderately successful. I have had 2,845 views from 1033 visitors over the first three months. That works out to about 72 views per day and 26 visitors over those three months. The 39 posts received 100 likes and 83 comments [including my responses to some of the comments]. Of course, these numbers are way down from my older blog site which was pulling in numbers that were about triple of what is happening now. I don’t regret making the change in web hosting service as so much has improved behind the scenes.

The focus of my blog site seems to have shifted a bit, becoming less activist and less confrontational. Somewhere along the way, I shifted into showing a “normal” side of who I am. The normalising naturism movement on Twitter seems to have amplified my normality as a naturist. I used to have a heavy focus on psychology and spirituality at the older blog site which has since vanished into the ether. You can see some of what I am referring to in the archives. Not all of my previous blog posts are in the archives. Some were too inane to be salvaged. Likely, even more should disappear. That said, I have too much to do as a writer to use up my time.  I do have a life outside of blogging – LOL!

For the most part during the first three months of this version of my blog posts, I have attempted to be discreet as far as the images I used were concerned. I thought that implied nudity was all that was needed. In other words, I had somehow censored myself rather than have social media do the censoring.  I felt constricted in the process, somehow being less than honest as I thought I was normalising naturism.

Will I continue to be discrete with my images? Very likely. After all, I don’t have to prove anything to anyone.

I went walking along the beach at night, a number of times this week. And as always, I walked free. It was as if I owned the beach. Twice I walked alone, and twice my wife walked beside me.  Night beach walking is a low tide activity for me. By Friday night, the beach walking will likely come to an end for a while.

Daytime beach walks are done during low tide. When the tide is out, the beach averages from 70 to 200 metres in depth, just the way I like it when we pass the cabanas, the beach bars, the scattered beach homes, and three small communities that line the edge of the sand during our typical 10 km walks.

A second consideration for me to walk when the tide is low, is that near the end of our walk, at least during weekdays, I want to have enough distance from the water to the edge to be less noticeable when I take time to sunbathe. Since it isn’t exactly legal to sunbathe nude in Ecuador, I have to be somewhat discrete.

Now saying that, I know that the rare person who sees me, while walking or cycling passed me in the heat of the afternoon. Since I am just sunbathing, there is no offence taken, at least as far as I know. I guess that you could say, that in these instances, I am normalising naturism. I’m not hiding, nor am I drawing a lot of attention to myself just because I am nude. The key is to sunbathe no differently than if wearing shorts or a bathing suit.

A few days ago, I was laying there, on my stomach, while one older gentleman who cycles past my wife and I on our daily walks on most days, cycled past me. I was aware of his passing, as I am aware of anyone who passes relatively closely. He stopped about 50 metres away and took out his beach towel to sunbathe. Naturally, he kept his shorts on. Yesterday, we met as I was getting ready to cross the river that is near the edge of our town. He wondered if he could sunbathe near me, saying he had seen me sunbathe while nude. Of course, I agreed. I had no reason to protest.

Today, he appeared as I was sunbathing, with my backside against the beach blanket. He kept his shorts on, a speedo bathing suit actually, and that was okay. He talked and I listened with only a few words to add. It was all so normal as if one of us being naked and the other not, didn’t factor into the equation.

I guess, this is what happens when people get a positive sense of each other over time, before confronted with nudity. Nudity is secondary to being a known and friendly person. Nudity is perceived as perhaps an eccentric’s privilege that doesn’t threaten.

It is the rainy season here in Olon. It doesn’t rain so much as to banish the sun for a good part of each day. It does rain enough to keep the mosquito population active. Mosquitoes love me. It doesn’t matter if I am back on the prairies in Canada, in China, in Mexico, or anywhere else on the planet. If there are mosquitoes, they will find me. As a result, I resort to using various lotions, sprays, and mosquito coils to protect myself. The very last resort would be to wear clothing, that is unless I am going out into a public place such as a local restaurant.

I am finding it harder and harder to put up with having to wear clothing. What makes it hard is the fact that clothing really isn’t necessary, especially in warm tropical climates such as here in Ecuador. What makes it even harder, is a growing need within me to be clothing free. I understand that upon my return to Canada in four weeks, clothing is going to be vitally necessary, a necessity that has nothing to do with social norms. It is cold in Canada and will not really be naturist friendly as far as the weather is concerned for almost two months. Even then, the weather will be temperamental.

At least I have my own home in Canada where I can be nude, most of the time until the weather allows me to be nude outdoors. I can’t imagine sitting like I am doing above [a photo taken this morning] on my back deck. I might try it for a few minutes on a warmish day, but not much longer. I am still relatively sane.

I love my home, my house on the Canadian prairie. I am a Canadian and do appreciate snow and cold and winter – in manageable amounts. I can’t be nude 24/7, regardless if nudity was legalized or not. Yet I can, and often do, take any and all opportunities to be nude as they appear. Of course I would be nude more if my community and the legal system would be cooperative on those days where the weather is supportive of being nude outdoors and in public.

As part of my finding more time for nudity in my life, I have renewed my membership at a Naturist Campground Community about four hours from my home. The plan for this year is to spend more time there with people who share my love of being nude. Of course, I will continue to hike nude in the hills near my home, and take care of my yard while nude when the conditions are right. It doesn’t seem to be enough, but it is the best that I can do.

It is Tuesday and I am finally at home. It is -5 Celsius outside, not exactly the kind of temperature that invites a person to sit outside au naturel, especially with a good breeze making the trees dance around. Still, the glimpses of sunshine between the clouds is inviting. For now, I will wait.

Now that I am back home, I am in quarantine for a minimum of fourteen days. The likelihood is that we will continue to self-isolate for a few more weeks after that with the only change being the ability to drive into the countryside to go for walks. Until that time. We will confine ourselves to our house and our back yard.

When we got to our final airport, a nephew and his mate brought my truck, filled with gas, to the airport for us. In the back seat of the truck was almost $200 worth of groceries to help tied us over for a while. We already have a full deep freezer and stocked shelves at home with non-perishables. One of our neighbours turned on our water and prepped our house for our return. Another neighbour left a bottle of red wine in our doorway as a welcome home gift. Connections are important. Community is important.

The world has changed, and it is continuing to change faster than we realise. I am unsure in which direction the change is going other than it feels somewhat positive, at least for what is happening in Canada. As for the USA, I don’t feel so positive. I will just leave that statement as it is written. Since it is about how I “feel,” I don’t want to predict anything or make any judgment calls.

Now that I am at home, I have been busy with sanitizing everything that I have touched, including everything in the bags that I brought home. It is just how I do things. Naturally, everything that I am doing is being done while clothing free. I will likely not need to wear any clothing until the first 14 days of quarantine are completed. Since no visitors will be allowed in the house, no one would become offended by my nudity.

On another note, I will likely be busy for the rest of the day and leave a return to writing and editing until tomorrow. This post was an important task for me, as you are part of my community. Be safe, stay home. We are all in this together.

Before I get into today’s post, I want to make one observation. As of the moment I find myself writing these words, I have 666 comments. Does this mean that my blog site now has come to the attention of the master of lies, the serpent who persuaded Eve and Adam to cover up their nakedness? If so, I am sure he is royally pissed off that I am not living up to the lie of nudity as perversion. [I hope this gets at least one chuckle along the way.]

Today is Saturday, the 29th day of February, a leap year. It is raining, a gentle rain to be sure, but it is wet none-the-less. Lightning and thunder have been our light and sound show since early yesterday evening. It isn’t what one could begin to say is pleasant beach weather. Since we have been walking ten kilometres, day after day, for quite some time, this is a pleasant diversion which allows me some extra time for writing and editing.

I have just finished the revised edition for the first book of my memoirs. A new cover and ISBN have been uploaded to Amazon in preparation for being republished. Naturally, the old edition has been unpublished. It will be a few days before I advertise the new edition. The book is significantly different with the presentation of the story though the contents remain the same. If anything, the book is more honest in being told from a first person point of view with real names for all of the characters included in telling my story. There is no question that the retelling reveals more than simply removing clothing ever tells about a person.

I am now turning to the second book in the series. Again, there is to be a major shift from the third person to the first person. The original reads like a novel, not an autobiographical work. Since the original was based on “my” journey that is similar to the song by Rascal Flatts, Bless the Broken Road, I am keeping the original title and giving credit to the title where it is due. The story of this second book is about love lost, a broken hearts, and finally arriving at the place and time I was supposed to go to meet the woman I didn’t know I was looking for, my Magical Other. The story is archetypal as well as being an honest recounting of my personal experience. It is a story that could be told of many others who have found themselves on the broken road.

The “carnaval” crowds are gone and the beach is basically empty, especially in the early afternoon when the heat persuades so many to retreat indoors to air conditioning and afternoon siestas. For some reason, I tolerate heat very well. I left our place at noon and walked just over one  kilometre to a place that has the least amount of beach traffic. It’s the place where I skinny dip most days.

Once there, the Kiniki mini brief tan through swim suit came off. A ground sheet was placed and I got to spend a glorious hour doing absolutely nothing other than basking in the sunshine.

Then, it was time to go to the water. Since the beach site I chose was about 70 metres from the water’s edge, I was a long walk to get to the water to cool off. With no one in site, I made that journey carrying my swim suit “just in case.” No one showed up in either direction for hundreds of metres in both directions. I had about 250 metres to the north where a few people were in the sea. To the south, it was about 500 metres to reach a few more who wandered the water’s edge.

Once in the water, I had another long walk to reach deep enough water to submerse myself. It is more than another 100 metres from the water’s edge to waist deep water between between surf swells.  It is sand all the way to point where the surf begins, that place where surfers head out to in order to wait for a big wave to ride.

Finally, after being pummelled by the waves, the equivalent to a deep-tissue massage, I returned to my blanket to begin packing up and making my way back to the apartment. Carrying my stuff in a draw-string bag, I walked almost 400 metres before finally deciding to put my swimming briefs back on. This is Ecuador, a non-naturist country. But as I am learning, there is always somewhere and sometime for the freedom to be nude in a nature setting.

I have been thinking more and more about Normalising Naturism [#NormalisingNaturism] and have come to the conclusion that in our modern western world that includes basically all first world countries, naturism will never be normal. There is too much embedded deep within the “normal” human psyche that works against this ever happening.

Many who proselytize in favour of living clothing free have this idea that once a person actually tries being clothing free, they will become nudists/naturists/whatever.  It’s a nice thought, but the real world and real people don’t fit this paradigm at all. Given the chance, many wouldn’t even take that opportunity because of a host of reasons, And of those who somehow do take the opportunity to try it, even try it more than once, a sizable number would end up saying, “Thanks, but no thanks. This just isn’t for me.”

Though they make decisions to not adopt naturism as a preferred way of living, experiencing it does chance attitudes towards those who are naturists. Attitudes become more positive, a good thing. Why doesn’t the experiencing of a naturist activity result in the adoption of naturism into their lives? I will blame it on a few millennia of cultural hard wiring, not physical hard wiring.

In the collective of humanity, nudity is not the norm when people gather together. This isn’t a statement of rightness or wrongness about that reality. The collective of humanity doesn’t even think about social nudity unless they are confronted by it. The collective  response to social nudity is rooted in a collective unconsciousness. Nudity is something that is found in frustrating dreams, nightmares, pornography, or in fantasies. Nudity is not found is any social context in the modern world, nor is it even remotely considered to be on the cusp of becoming the normative standard.

Nudity is not normal and nothing we will do will change this in our lifetime. Perhaps, if things work out, we can get a positive result in legal terms. Legalising nudity is our best hope. And realistically, in a world that seems to be devolving, there are serious issues for mental well-being, economic well-being, and even physical safety that will have the collective’s focus.

So what does that mean for us who want to live, as much as possible, our lives being clothing free as often as practical given many environmental, social, and economic realities that are part and parcel of being in the world? Perhaps, just being ourselves, authentic and ethical. We live as we must taking all reasonable opportunities to be nude. Avoiding the role of being a missionary, a zealot attempting to convert and save the masses – the truth is, fundamentalist preaching about naturism and nudism is offensive as is any type of fundamentalism. I’m right and your wrong, so you’d better do it my way, is disrespectful of others who choose differently.

I am a naturist. I love being a naturist. I love some people who are naturists, and don’t have a lot of respect for some who are naturists because it isn’t about the state of dress or undress. I love some people who feel safe and comfortable in their clothing. Again, it isn’t the clothing or lack of that has me choose who will be in my orbit. Yes, I admit, there are those who will, and do, make decisions not to have me in their orbit because of my choice to be a naturist. Perhaps I am better off for that.

The best I can do, is to be me. I am an “outlier” in real terms. Walk through your community and you will find that unless you are in a gated naturist community, it would be a very rare thing to find a nude man making toast for breakfast in his home. It’s not right or wrong. It is just the way it is. People in my very conservative community know about my penchant for being nude. My books have sold exceedingly well in this tiny village of 500 people, books that disclose the reality of my association with naturism. I don’t hide behind a high privacy fence, or behind darkened draperies behind my windows. I am seen as non-confrontational and non-threatening – weird but not dangerous.

I don’t presume to challenge the community with my nudity at social activities, while shopping, or even strolling around the town. Yet, I am seen, physically seen when nude without a resulting confrontation. When I am seen, I’m in my home, in my yard, or perhaps down a rarely used country lane in the prairie hills. No one presumes for a moment that my being nude has a sexual intent. Mowing lawns is not about sexual intent. Being seen while nude doing normal non-sexual activities is key to diffusing the gut response nudity.

The key? As best that I can see it, live as normal as possible, be nude when possible, and be respectful of others.

It’s time to add a few more words here for all who find their way to this page. The past few days have not been all that wonderful. Of course, no one in their right mind would ever expect that every day needs to be perfect, or some resemblance to Paradise. Just like the weather and the seasons are constantly changing, so do our moods and our relationships. As you can tell by the photo, I am spending some time in shadow country, the place where the unconscious and the shadows are contained behind seemingly impenetrable barriers. Seeming is the right word.

As much as we think we have control of who we are, what we say, and what we do, our shadow has a different opinion. The shadow slips out and creates havoc while we are unaware of its presence. Later, when we come back to our conscious selves, we are confronted with the messes we have unconsciously made. “Did I really say that? Did I really do that?” are quickly followed by adamant denials. We are left wondering why the people around us would say such mean things about us.

Naturally, we see this happening to others. We have witnessed the things said and done which are fervently denied. Yet, we think ourselves so in control that we react in the same way when it is our turn to be caught, or should I say, others have witnessed the shadow sides of ourselves in action.

So why am I writing about this, today? It likely comes out of no going through a second round of editing my first volume of the autobiography, at least in part. There is more in the equation – there is always more in the equation – but I am not ready to discuss it here. Some parts of my life are not for public consumption. Suffice to say, that this state of being will pass, like all storms pass, and I will return to a life that I cherish.

I woke up to dark skies again this morning, after a night of dream-filled sleep. The dreams were quickly forgotten once I had left our bed to check out the weather from the front patio. Since all the draperies were still closed on the other two residences in our small compound, I was in no rush to retreat to my quiet corner which is less visible to all concerned parties. This is part of the reason why I love early mornings no matter where I find myself. For a while, I own the space and I am free to be my authentic, nude self.

Now, it is 7:30 am and the sky has lightened with a few scattered bits of blue sky peeking through the clouds. I am still nude on the patio though discretely, partly shielded by a lawn chair and a hammock for passersby. Anyone who would think to look would know that I am nude, an implied nudity as there is no way to see genitals while I am typing on my keyboard. The plan is to go for a beach walk later in the afternoon. Until then, I will likely continue to do some editing of a book that I intend on re-releasing in the relative near future.

“What does life ask of us, and how are we to answer that summons? Does life matter in the end, and if so, how, and in what fashion? … these questions … many of us have forgotten them in the steady drumbeat and reiterative abuses of daily life. But our choices reflect our values and our putative answers to these questions, whether we are conscious of them or not.” James Hollis, Hauntings, 2013.

That’s the problem with having the world to myself, I begin to think rather than simply bask in the moment without a thought or care to disturb me. I know I am not alone in this. I would venture to say that most people who make it into the second half of life find themselves asking so many unanswerable questions. The questions are real and there are answers. However, those answers are typically hidden from our consciousness. And perhaps, that is a good thing. It likely is more comfortable and socially safer to keep those answers buried deep within a tomb.

We don’t like to complicate our lives, willingly. We want to be like others so as to avoid discovering that regardless of all the people with whom we surround ourselves, we are essentially alone. No government, no agency, no family member, no church, no one is responsible for us in the end. Regardless of our illogical wishes, we will die.  Perhaps, we need to rethink and revalue our lives. That begins with daring to discover who we are as individuals, unearth the hidden aspects of ourselves, strip ourselves of the protective camouflage behind which we have hidden. We must risk being vulnerable.

Perhaps, this is what is behind so many people coming to embrace naturism and nudism, taking the risk of being vulnerable. With social naturism and nudism, the risk is minimised. There is perceived safety in numbers. However, there we again find ourselves living the values and choices framed by a group and not by one’s individual psyche. We are left haunted by those choices and values we have refused to recognise about ourselves.

Enough Sunday musing for now. Until the next time.

It has been a few days since my last post. With a bit cooler temperatures and a later low-tide, I find myself with a bit of unstructured time for writing another blog post. As usual, I include a photo showing a snapshot of life for me in Olon, Ecuador. This is how I live, mostly clothing free. Consider it to be “normal.” This is a photo taken by my wife for whom my nudity is “normal.”

Since I don’t have most of my photos “let it all hang out,” as in the photo above, does that make me any less of a naturist? Does my habit of occasionally cropping the photos I post here, offend those who see themselves as “true nudists” or “true naturists”? Of course, I know the answer to my own questions. Yes, there are those who consider themselves to be the arbiters of “pure” nudism/naturism, who are offended. In my opinion, they are fundamentalists who are all about controlling others.

Now, in the world of Jungian psychology, this need to control others has its roots in their conscious inability to recognise their own shadow and thus control it. The problems one sees in others, and this includes me, are really about one’s inner self being denied.

I want my blog site to be “friendly.” If one is to help gradually shift the general perception of naturism, the most likely approach to succeed would be to be obviously nude without triggering the fear of nudity in others. These others become more likely to take the time to read a blog post and hear what is being said. An image that is too challenging means that the words don’t get read and an opportunity for having naturists viewed as normal humans is lost. Yet, sometimes it is necessary to challenge.

When these self-proclaimed guardians of nudist/naturist purity protest, are the saying they need to see the genitals? Why? Now, I’m not averse to having others see my genitals. After all, I do go to naturist campgrounds and gatherings on private acreages.  However, I am averse to comments focusing on my genitals. It is creepy. It leaves me feeling like the commentators, always by males for some strange reason, have some sort of ulterior motive for the photos. I do know that photos of older men are “lifted” to be used on “daddy” sites for the gay community. I don’t have any problem with the gay community gathering photos for various purposes. I do have a problem of them being gathered without permission.

It isn’t about gay or straight, it is a problem of why does someone want my photo, or your photo? Why do others demand that the genitals are showing? And often, why do these connoisseurs of nude photos make uninvited sexual comments? Why is the assumption always that if a nude photo is present, it was posted with a sexual intent?

The last photo presented here today was taken by my wife. There is nothing sexual about the image. Nudity is obvious, but it sure doesn’t lend itself to someone getting sexually aroused. Yet, because there is no cropping, no one would question that the subject in the photo isn’t a nudist or naturist. Both images presented are the same person, the same naturist/nudist. Yet, the messages received are different leading to different ideas about the subject of the images.

It’s complicated.