Through a Naturist Lens

Well, I have unpacked my backpack at least twice for the purposes of removing unnecessary weight [clothing]. I was able to reduce my backpack by about one kilogram [2.2 lbs] as a result of my efforts. The likelihood of yet another unpacking are likely nil, but I won’t hold my breath. I added in this journal given to me by my eldest daughter. I think I am ready for the European Peace Walk.

I will be taking my camera, a Sony α6000, along with my Samsung Tab S2 8, for recording the journey in both print and image format. And like all serious writers, I include a hand-written journal which will be used basically every time I stop to change socks, have a coffee or meal, or simply to have a rest.

Most of the images taken along the way will have nothing to do with naturism as defined by nudity first. Yet, saying that, the ideals of openness and honesty, which likely are more important than exposed skin, will be honoured. I know that somewhere along the way, I will find subjects that will lend themselves to discussion here.

That’s it for today. I’ve got other chores that need attending to at the moment. 

Yesterday was World Naked Gardening Day. I have to admit that I did very little in the garden yesterday, though there was some discussion as to where I would put the chicken wire to support the two varieties of climbing beans we are planting in the garden. Gardening is done to some extend, naked, regardless of the calendar day. The deciding factor for me is the opportunity to get some of the gardening done while naked.

The idea of naked gardening isn’t simply about a set date on a calendar, especially here in the northern zones. Yesterday, there were too many places in Canada where gardening in any form or state of dress/undress wasn’t an option. The spirit of WNGD is about finding time in your garden, at some point in the spring, to risk being as natural as possible. Some people feel totally naked while wearing the briefest of body coverings – nakedness is not just about clothing, it is also about one’s state of mind.

For my participation in the World Naked Gardening Day, I had checked the weather forecast, as I was committed to taking part in an alternate activity for the Saturday, and then made the decision to till my garden on the day before the WNGD. On the right, you will see beginning to dig the garden before tilling. By the end of the afternoon, The garden was tilled and ready to be seeded..

There is a social aspect to World Naked Gardening Day that exists because of social media such as Twitter. If one does a search for #WNGD, one would find likely hundreds of photos, selfies for the most part, of people’s participation in the event. Of course, one would also find many claiming to be “Gardening” though there is no real sign of gardening, or even garden, in their images. Those people are more interested in “flashing” thinking that they can garner some attention with their awesome nudity. It doesn’t work that way.

World Naked Gardening Day is probably the best illustration of a human being nude without a sexual agenda or expectation. For those who take part, regardless of the day, even if they had been alone in their garden, there is a sense of community that starts to grow. One feels connected, even if only virtually, with others who share a “naturist” worldview.

There is little doubt in my mind that most people who call themselves naturists or nudists, mostly have the opportunity to be clothing free when at home. The truth is, we are not living on a planet that is “friendly” to the idea of naturists and nudists stepping outside of their dwellings while naked.

Regardless of whether we are introverts or extroverts, most of us who find ourselves stripping off our clothing when the opportunities present themselves, thrive best when other(s) share those opportunities with us. And it is important to note, that sharing time while nude is not mostly about finding sexual satisfaction. The satisfaction is more powerful than that.

Being in the presence of another or others who are similarly nude, presents us with a better sense of well-being. We become less critical of ourselves and others. When someone smiles in response to your presence, you feel better, appreciated, and accepted. However, these opportunities for sharing presence while nude are rare for most. The hole for some sort of fellowship is often filled with social media. Individuals reach out to others via Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Pinterest, or on-line communities such as the NOOK, Naturist Community, True Nudes, MeWe, and so on. It’s not the best solution, but at least one learns that there are others out there who feel the need to lose the clothes, even if for only a few hours here and there. One feels less isolated.

Yet, even with that, one is left to one’s own for the most part as a home nudist – sleeping nude, doing dishes nude, reading or writing nude, and the list goes on. When weather is good enough, only a small number of these will risk going outside to bask in the sun’s rays – privacy concerns are real for so many. And from the reports from naturist associations, even fewer are heading out to socialise with others at naturist or nudist venues. It’s a problem most of us have to live with in our growth as naturists and nudists.

How do you fill in the hole of connection to others who are naturists/nudists?

There, on my back deck, I survey the scenery of my back yard, and the view of neighbours’ homes. I read, have coffee, sometimes write, and simply relax on this back deck when the season and weather is cooperative. As much as possible, this is done skyclad. There is a back lane between my property and that of the neighbours for vehicles and passersby to navigate when there is a need.

In all honesty, I can’t begin to claim that I have privacy in my own yard. The fence is only five feet in height with spaces between the boards as seen here below. Yet, I take the risk of nudity in my own yard. I have been seen by several of my neighbours. No one makes a comment about my state of undress. After all, I have published books that basically advertise to the world that I am a naturist.

Earlier this year, in January, the NSA was given an expanded mandate with regards to collecting our emails, phone calls, and other data that exists in the world. The following passage from the New York Times explains:

“The new rules significantly relax longstanding limits on what the N.S.A. may do with the information gathered by its most powerful surveillance operations, which are largely unregulated by American wiretapping laws. These include collecting satellite transmissions, phone calls and emails that cross network switches abroad, and messages between people abroad that cross domestic network switches.”

When we put that together with the fact that Internet Service Providers store all of our browsing history in some form or other, the illusion that we have any privacy at all, even if we build ten-foot high security barricades around our homes, is shattered. Now, our neighbours are able to get into the fray with the use of drones. These powerful flying cameras are now sold for use by children.  So much for privacy fences if there is any interest on seeing what’s going on in our yards by curious others. When you link that to what satellites are able to record [think Google Earth] one is left to wonder if there is anywhere one can “get off the grid” and escape detection. The answer is basically “No.”

With that knowledge, we can actually set ourselves free. Lose the illusion of privacy and one can decide “to hell with the world, I’ll just do what I need to do.” So my neighbours see me – then what? so what? They are more concerned about their own privacy than about your lack of concern for trying to hide just who you are.

I am a naturist. It is just the way it is.

The weather is less friendly today as far as both skyclad time outdoors and my being energetic. Of course, that must mean that the sun has yet to put in an appearance. Well, technically, the sun is present, but it is well hidden by thick, grey clouds. It is especially in the afternoon that I personally find myself running out of gas.

I found an interesting article at Psychology Today that talks about this phenomenon :

“As the sun begins an earlier dip into evening darkness at this time of year, our mood and mental energy seem to dip with it. Known as the afternoon slump (or the brain-dead zone), most of us feel a stronger urge to be in bed with a pillow over our heads than to continue with our work obligations for another few hours.

Indeed, the fatigue sometimes seems so overwhelming, especially when the work preceding late afternoon has been mentally and emotionally stressful, that our bodies feel as if we’ve been on a construction site all day.”

The article talks about carbohydrates as a solution as opposed to a sugar fix. I wonder what they would have found if the subjects were given a healthy dose of sunlight while nude? At least the article agrees that “running out of gas” is a real problem that could use a real solution.

Again, it all comes down to “light” and the filtering or absence of light. This phenomenon is part of why I have done a lot of research for the use of nude therapy for treatment of depression, midlife crisis, and PTSD. A structured regime of sunlight therapy, especially while nude, does more, in my opinion AND experience, than pharmaceutical therapy.

Of course, there is not enough structured experimentation to either validate or refute this thesis. Nor, is there likely to be such experiments, at least in North America where prudity is the norm.

Today’s photo was taken yesterday when the sky was overcast which allowed only a low level of light to reach these northern prairies in Canada. One of the things I noticed when going over my photos, including this one, was the fact of muted colours. The rich bronze colour I am used to seeing was not there. If anything, the world looked anemic. Of course, this gave me the only excuse I needed to write up this blog, a follow-up to the last post, chasing away the light.

I took the photo while taking a break from doing my taxes for 2016. And yes, I did my taxes while clothing free. Doing taxes is a depressing activity regardless if one ends up paying more taxes or getting a refund, at least as far as I am concerned. It felt like I was digging in the shadows, searching for buried – well, I can’t really call it buried treasure – for buried numbers.

Like most who do their own taxes, I had papers strewn all over the office in scattered piles that I hoped would provide the needed numbers. In the end, the taxes got done and I was worn out in spite of the fact that I managed to squeak out a small refund from the government. A depressive fog had settled in while I hid in my office from the tiny bit of light that was outside.

With the lack of sunshine, there is a significant change in our energy levels, in our libido. For some, it is more serious than for others. This is especially noticeable in northern climes where the number of daylight hours is at its lowest point. In Canada, we talk about the phenomena as “cabin fever.” In medical terms it is called “Seasonal Affective Disorder – S.A.D.” But of course, not everyone is affected the same. For some, the winter is a time when energy blossoms. These are the people who need to hide from the sun during the summer. But for the rest, and majority of the human population, light equals energy – energy equals libido.

So, why do most of us continue to hide from the sun? We use sunscreen lotions and sprays [yes, I know, there is the fear of skin cancer] for protection. The more worried we are about cancer, the higher the Sun Protection Factor [SPF] we use. We even resort to buying clothing based on the SPF of the fabric. We don’t critically evaluate our real needs for protection, needs that change based on our adaptations to being in the sunshine. We base our decisions on fear that has been induced by the manufacturers of sunscreen products. We ignore the basic truth that these manufacturers are in it for profit, not for our basic human welfare. We base our decisions on the illusions fed to us by the clothing industry that echoes the petrochemical industry with their sunscreen products. We make our choices to hide from the sun out of fear.

It’s as simple as that. We are afraid of stepping out of the shadows – psychologically afraid.

I love the sun. I treasure the transformative heat. It is as though each time, I dare being cooked to the point where a new “I” rises out of the ashes of the old “I.” This is psychological alchemy. But, there is more to the story that skin cancer worries or prudish covering up worries at work here.

I walk a lot in the various towns and cities we visit in North America. In both Canada and the U.S.A., my wife and I have noticed that the vast majority of the houses we pass as we wander these communities, have their draperies closed during the daytime, especially on bright and sunshine filled days. I realise that there are a a number of good reasons for this in the opinions of the people living in those houses. The majority want privacy. Some want to protect their furniture from becoming faded because of the intense sun’s rays. Some simply want to escape the distractions of a passing world. And then there are others who simply prefer living in the shadows.

In my home, draperies are opened when we wake up in the morning so that we entice whatever light that exists, to fill our home. The draperies stay open until after sunset and the darkness returns to the land. Then, we turn on lights within our home until it is time for us to go to bed, and to sleep.

So how does this play out in the larger world, this hiding from the light? When I look at my home community, province, and country, I see that logic and common sense  seem to be almost figments of imagination. We all have our polarised ideas and ideals to which we cling to with fierce determination in spite of what might be considered opposing facts. Of course, we can’t see or hear anything clearly when our filters are engaged, not even the things we do or say are evident to us.

In the world-at-large appears to be spinning out of control, we seem to be digging shelters that are purposely hidden in the shadows within which we can sort of protect ourselves from the forces of darkness and the forces of light. We need to hide. There is conflict and that only means pain. We want to build walls to keep out the world. And that need is reflected in our communities and countries. Trump wants to build walls to keep out what he perceives is darkness. In the U.K., the same sentiment is being enacted as a wall of nationalism is being erected to keep out their perceived darkness. The drapes are being closed in the hopes that the problem goes away if we somehow just stay out of the light.

Plato’s cave as described in his book, “The Republic.”

We don’t want to know the larger story, we feel much more comfortable looking at the shadows which we then project as reality. I think here of the shadows in Plato’s story of the cave.  In his writing, Plato discusses:

“And if some one were to drag him violently up the rough and steep ascent from the chamber, and refuse to let him go till he had drawn him out into the light of the sun, would he not, think you, be vexed and indignant at such treatment, and on reaching the light, would he not find his eyes so dazzled by the glare as to be incapable of making out so much as one of the objects that are now called true?”

As Plato notes, humans have an aversion to light. We get angry when what is exposed by light contradicts what we hold as our truths. Of course, this is not just about humans in the past, this remains as psychological insight for today. As a culture we are fleeing from awareness – of self and other. We are fearful of being exposed and vulnerable, so we hide in the shadow imagining and hoping to be saved by the light that is filtered. The hard reality is that we need to be dragged into the light to expose to make ourselves vulnerable. Carl Jung had this to say, words that are more important now than perhaps ever in our human history:

”One does not become enlightened by imagining figures of light but by making the darkness conscious.”

The sun came out and the temperatures soared to 10C/50F. Despite the brisk breeze which denied the “feels like” temperatures to match the actual temperatures, I found a spot in the sunshine in the back yard to spend some quality time sunbathing. In the end, while having my skin slightly roasted, a poem was born which I intend sharing with a Clothing Free web presence that is hosting a naturist poetry competition. Whether the poem is enjoyed by others or not, it was enough for me to celebrate this occasion, a rare occasion in early April, for nude sunbathing on the Canadian prairies.

Daring to be Bare

Looking out the patio door at the thermometer
Watching through the morning
For the temperatures to slip past freezing
Into friendlier temperatures
The time to slip outside
Bare as the day I was born
Had arrived.

Feet slippered with nothing else
Offering protection against the still chilly air
Walking through shadows on the deck
Descending stairs to reach a bench
Beside the garage
Which offered a slight windbreak,
I stretched out with my back to the sun.

Slight whispers of cool breath
Slipped over my skin
As I waited for the sun to begin heating
Back and buttocks,
A neighbour opened her door across the lane
Peering out in search of her two dogs
Unaware that a man lay naked
Only a short distance away
Easily seen.

It wasn’t long before
The sun’s rays worked magic
And warmth became pleasant heat
Making the risk of
Daring to be bare
Worth the moments in the sun.

I am just about finished with the flooring of my new library, aka office. The closet will become the holders of the bookshelves packed with my books. My computer desk and client chair will fit nicely, and provide for a more intimate space for my work as a writer and as a mental-health counsellor.

I am also again writing, and it feels good, very good. I have slowed down the pace as I re-read what I have written in the second novel so that I can make the changes that are needed. And, in the process, I am adding more, allowing my imagination freer reign. I have this sense that the story will be much better for the deepening of imagination.

Every good idea and all creative work are the offspring of the imagination, and have their source in what one is pleased to call infantile fantasy. Not the artist alone, but every creative individual whatsoever owes all that is greatest in his life to fantasy … without this playing with fantasy no creative work has ever yet come to birth. The debt we owe to the play of imagination is incalculable. [Jung, 1921]

These were words I needed to hear, words that confirm my present journey with words, the telling of a story that is quintessentially human. That the characters in the story come to embrace naturism, is fitting as humanity is not defined by clothing. Even the stripping off of clothing doesn’t quite get to the foundation of what it is that is our essence as humans, a shared essence that is contained in everyone from saint to the most evil.

And so, I have become more accepting of myself and others, less judgmental. Notice the use of “less” – I am far from perfect and still respond from the complexities of my own history in ways that are far from an all-loving-kindness. But that, too, is part of what makes us all human. And so, I return to the story with hopes that the tale to be told, though a work of fiction and fantasy, will reflect an honesty about the human condition.

I am learning to trust my “active imagination.” A few days ago, I turned to a book in my library, Jung on Active Imagination, and have been re-reading this old friend, a book I got in 1998. This morning, these words caught my attention:

It has been quite some time since I last posted here. I have returned to Canada following three months in Mexico along the Mayan Riviera, where I lived in a private studio with a private garden. For three months I lived mostly without the need to wear clothing.

It was only when I left the confines of the studio and garden when I had to wear clothing, at least until I was by a small clothing-optional beach not too far from the small town where I lived beside the Caribbean Sea. I returned to my home on the Canadian prairies, in a small prairie town located less than two hours southwest of the city of Saskatoon. I returned home to snow and cold. For three months in Mexico, I was without clothes for the majority of the hours of each day.

However, that time has come to and end, it has retreated into the past as memories, some of which were captured in photos, some in journal entries, and the rest into a quiet, hidden spot deep within me. Like then, I find myself living in the moment, in the present tense. It is easy to get caught up in the past, rehashing the challenges, and reminiscing through rose-tinted lenses the pleasures. It is as equally easy to project into the future facing challenges that exist only in the realm of “maybe.” Oh, I do think about the future and my time and places for clothing free experiences, among many other hopeful expectations, don’t get me wrong. However, I know that the “future” thoughts are just that, projections of “maybe.”

Living in the moment is not all that easy to do. It is actually exceedingly difficult as our minds are prone to “think” outside the experience of the present. We worry, we wonder, we conjecture, we wander. Just the simple and necessary act of planning for an event [I am planning on attending a Jungian lecture and workshop in just over a week from now], has one begin thinking about people who might be met, things that may be discussed, and the list goes on and on. Once the plans are made, worries about weather that may prevent travel along with a host of other imaginary issues that lay waiting in the shadows to sabotage the event, flood the mind. Of course, none of it is real with the exception that a plan has been made. The rest is all about fleeing from the present into some chaotic no-man’s land.

All of above is why I meditate. It teaches me how to stay grounded in the present. I find myself either nude or clothed in various situations of my choosing. And wherever I find myself, I make myself present to the situation and the people. It’s a good place to start.