Through a Naturist Lens

Despite how many times we see images of ourselves, whether it be in a mirror or in photos, we always find ourselves looking into the eyes of a stranger. We see a human body in some state of repair or disrepair, yet we know that even this human body doesn’t quite fit with what we feel about this human body. So much remains hidden in spite of standing naked in the image. How dare we say that we are “authentic” beings?

Beneath the surface of skin lies another dimension of “self.” We peer into our eyes hoping to catch glimpses of this mystery person. And, at the same time, we dare not look too deep into the shadows within for fear that we let loose the darkness hidden there, letting our demons out to define us to those we love and hold close. We are curious, cautiously curious. We grasp for a small glimpse of some aspect of ourselves that will affirm something positive about ourselves. With that small glimpse, maybe we could return to the outer image and find satisfaction with ourselves negating the impulse to go too deep into the inner landscape of “self.”

It would be so much easier if “what you see” is “all there is.”

Nudism, naturism, just being clothing free is really not all that interesting if it is to be considered authentic. If one thinks about it, one is simply leading one’s own prosaic existence, doing “normal” mundane things with only one difference – the lack of clothing.

So what is interesting about watching television, doing the dishes, drinking coffee, reading a book, going for a walk, sitting still in the sunshine, mowing the lawn, washing windows or the car, or sitting with another person simply chatting and sharing a favourite beverage?

In our world, these activities are almost non-events. Neighbours, strangers, and family rarely take note of our existence while we are so engaged other than to offer pleasantries. No one in their right mind would consider any of these events/activities as being sexual in nature. There is no calling upon fear or offence in the minds of others.

Yet, if one dares to be bare while doing any of these mundane, daily activities, one does risk censure by others around us, often followed by sanctions. So, why even bother recording mundane activities such as pouring a cup of coffee and sharing it with the universe? What’s the point? Surely if the intent is to be an exhibitionist, there are better, more sensual or erotic images that could be recorded.

There is something about daring to be bare that is subversive to the dominant culture. For whatever reasons, choosing nudity takes one out of the pool of being subservient into a contrasting pool labelled as deviant. Simply by choosing the individual over the collective, one becomes a threat to all with a vested interest in the “status quo.” That vested interest isn’t necessarily economic or about power – it is about self-validation. Too many of us find our validation in the eyes of others, in the collective. We dress in the fashions required, we hold the political, social, religious, and secular attitudes that best allow us to “not rock the boat.” The last thing we want to do is to have to prop ourselves up. We need propping up by all the others who don’t have the courage to be an individual.

Nudity isn’t offensive because of sex, it’s offensive because it challenges one to step outside, to risk vulnerability.

Life is curious and becomes more mysterious as one gets older and perhaps a bit wiser. Strangely, one even becomes less fearful of the unknown as it expands, less fearful of one’s own mortality. Now that I am officially old as far as the Canadian government is concerned (I qualify and receive Old Age Security Benefits), I somehow seem oblivious to the fact that my own death can’t be all that far distant in the future in relative terms. It just doesn’t seem to matter anymore. What does matter is simply that I am alive and well at this moment, perhaps in the best shape mentally and spiritually of my life.

Many people approach old age frantically and with fear. I don’t know if it is simply the fear of “death” as a natural consequence of life that we will all experience. Rather, I think it is a fear of what will result when death does come. Judgment Day – somehow some deity will see all of the shadows, all of the defects, the lies, the meanness, avarice, jealousy and whatever else is tagged with the term “sin.”

Death exposes each of us in ways that we never want to be exposed. The stuff we leave behind us hidden in our closets, on our hard drives, and perhaps most importantly, in the minds and memories of others that escapes from the rigid confines, passwords, and strength of our characters as we bluff and bully our way through life evaporates freeing what has been so long hidden and denied. Since I have basically stripped naked in front of the world – my family, my community and strangers – through my “Broken” book series, and through my “Naked Poetry” series, there aren’t any secrets left to worry about..

It is quite liberating. I think of Sisyphus who must toil forever rolling a boulder up a hill.

My boulder has been taken from me leaving me free to smell the scents in the air, to cherish the sounds that reach my ears (sometimes with the help of hearing aids), the textures of the world that meet my skin, the tastes of new life that had somehow materialized out of the shadows with the withdrawal of mask, armor and camouflage behind which I had previously hidden from life. So others can see my body – nothing there that is anything but natural should they only dare to see their own bodies. So others can know my history – we all have histories.

Today, I can dare to be authentic in the world, naked where and when practical and possible, honest without fear of someone “finding out” some dark and dirty secret.

It’s that time of year again, a bit earlier than last year, for getting the garden ready for planting. I tilled the garden last autumn while dressed as I am in this image. I am not so sure that I will till “au naturel” this year as a number of my neighbours seem to be busy outside in location where they would easily spot me and be horribly shocked by nudity. Still, that wasn’t a factor in prepping the tiller, making sure it was filled with gas, and placing it in the garden in my birthday suit.

I will wait until this evening before starting the tiller and turning the soil. There is enough light in the sky to work until at least eight-thirty in the evening. Besides, I doubt that it will take me all that long as the garden is still soft from the fall turning.

For now, I will simply spend some time basking in the warm sun with a good book in a protected (somewhat) corner. It will be a few days before we plant our peas and carrots, the first veggies to be planted. The book is one I have read in the past. With my recent posts on Naturism as Therapy, I thought it was time to revisit the book.

I am beginning to think that there is a need for a more recent book on the value of nudity and therapy. Perhaps this is something that I will attempt as I try to blend depth psychology, spiritualism, and healing together. I can see that there will be a need to include how a fear of nudity adds to the wounding of the human psyche and makes healing harder to achieve. It’s something for me to think about. For now, it is enough to be writing here, thinking out loud and hearing your thoughts in response to what I present.

Tea time for me. I will return.

One of the things that has led me to believing that naturism provides a portal into self-healing has been my personal experience. Long before I was aware of the world of therapy, back in the days when I was a teenager struggling with issues of sexual abuse, incest and other issues that came out of living in chaos; I had stumbled upon my sanctuary in nature. My home was filled with siblings where there was no place, no space, no time that could ever be considered a safe place in spite of all efforts. One day in desperation, I fled into the pastureland that was near my family’s home, a place that had several treed areas within which I could hide and find silence. The discovery of that space changed my life, perhaps saved it.

It wasn’t long before I would retreat into this safe space with a book of poetry that was a gift from my maternal grandmother before she passed away a year earlier. As the temperatures warmed in the spring that began to turn to summer, I found sitting against a tree even more comfortable without the confines of clothing. There was something so innocent and pure about being alone with a book in my hand and my clothing set neatly nearby. It was as though in removing the clothing, I was removing all those things that had stained my soul, wounded my soul. For the first time since early childhood I felt I could finally breathe freely without fear.

Today, I begin each day with time outside when the weather permits, or indoors, with nude meditation. I track the breaths in and out and watch as thoughts arise and fall with similar patterns as my breathing.

It is a time when my ego gets to rest while the psyche investigates the shadows that wait for their turn to be shown into light and to be recognized. Morning coffee and conversation follows as I sit with my wife while still clothing free. Then, the spell is lifted as we have our breakfast before heading out for a beach walk which require at least a minimalist bathing suit.

The beach walk is another form of meditation as ten kilometres of walking on sand or in the surf at the edge of the sea over a period of two hours finds us back at our starting point. Then, usually, we go into the sea for another half hour to cool down. For me that means removing my swimming briefs as soon as the water’s depths allows. The briefs become like a torc worn on my upper arm as I float free in the sea. Back at the casa, a quick shower in the garden beneath a hose is typically followed by a sun bath where my wife tells me the heat of the sun cooks the devil out of me.

This is just part of my naturist day, a day in which the work of welcoming light and consciousness becomes almost a ritual. Now in my 65th year of life, I find myself at peace with myself most of the time. There is no question that naturism has been a key strategy in my own journey to the healing of my soul and psyche.

My wife was creative as she directed a photoshoot at the edges of a mangrove swamp. The trail was closed due to safety conditions, a trail just outside of the Desires Clothing Optional Resort just two kilometres from our home in Puerto Morelos. This image was just what was needed for this post.

All valid therapy models require us to look deep within ourselves to figure out just what exactly makes us tick, to explain why we do what we do in spite of our best intentions. A few models simply see the whole operation as simply an exercise of behavioural reprogramming through negative and positive reinforcement stimuli. A few assume that our ego’s “will” is enough to have us change our belief systems. It is rare that we have and use models of therapy which includes the personal and the collective unconscious, the world of “shadow.”

Depth psychology, whether one uses the Freudian, Jungian, Adlerian, Archetypal or a blend of any and all modes that has us include connections with shadow through dream work, sand play, active imagination and association tasks. Depth psychology (I use a predominantly Jungian model) asks us to enter into our inner world, almost an alter universe, that is populated with powerful energies – archetypes – and begin a heroic journey of “self” discovery.

To include naturism in this model somehow seems to make a lot of sense to me, for the journey of self-discovery must include the external self, the ego self, as well as the hero of the inner journey. Hiding ourselves (inferiority complexes, negative body concepts, etc.) behind clothing sets us at a disadvantage. It is as though we make a deliberate attempt to disable ourselves through denial of our body, our sexual body. We have a magical belief that if we hide the sexual self from our own eyes and the eyes of others, we become more saintly thus more worthy of being healed. Of course that is “ego” talking and ego is not all that well informed or reliable for it is ego that has us arrive crippled at the therapist’s door begging to be healed.

Thoughts?

Relationships are like sand castles, they are constantly shifting and changing with the wind, the rain, and the tides that sometimes engulf us. One of the significant things to realise is the fact that all relationships that we engage in have one thing in common – ourselves. When we are not fully conscious (and to tell the truth, no one is fully conscious), the unknown about ourselves finds a way to be the wind, rain and tides that act upon our relationships.

What is vitally important for us to do is the work to uncover, unmask all that is hidden within. We have to risk being vulnerable as though walking through our relationships stripped of everything behind which we hide and protect our soft and vulnerable centre.

Not only do our unknown aspects of self work to stress our relationships, there is always the unknown aspects of the other, our significant other, having the same effect upon our relationships. The result is that relationships are never as stable as one believes, especially as one ages and changes on the individual level.

If one person due to some reason or other, usually a crisis of some kind, decides to risk doing the work to unearth the unknown lurking within each of us by stripping away all the defences, lies, and magical thinking that we have used to protect ourselves; the other has no choice but to respond to the changes in their partner in the relationship regardless if the relationship is to a parent, a child, a lover. All with whom we engage in relationship are buffeted by the changes within us. But how that “other” responds to our changes is not always for the better.

We see that in the world of naturism and nudism. Where one person frees themselves from the bondage of clothing, from fear of being exposed and vulnerable, there is a response in the others with whom that person is in relationship. Some decide to abandon relationship. Some decide to go on the offensive as though to save the person from him or herself. Some decide to risk opening up themselves having seen something in the other that seems to be about healing. Why are the responses all so different? It is encoded in their original relationships as an infant and child to parents and others within the orbit or those early years. Where there is a refusal to do the work of individuation, the responses are fear responses, fear based on both personal and collective shadow factors.

Using active imagination while risking a state of undress opens up portals to the inner self that have been barred for too long. The role of active imagination in therapy has a positive history in helping a person to heal themselves, to heal their soul and psyche. The role of being nude, especially outside in sunshine, adds a physiological dimension to the act of healing. Learning to be comfortable with one’s outer self, the physical self, goes a long way to enabling one to learn to trust and accept the inner self. In my opinion as a therapist, and my experience in doing the work of healing the self, naturism is a powerful and positive component of therapy.

My time in Mexico is drawing closer to the end. Just over three weeks remain for me to enjoy being outdoors without the need for clothing. The past two months have been an incredible time for me as I become more self-aware and other-aware. Though I get up before dawn each day, I have not gone down to the beach to great the sun as in this photo taken by my wife about a week ago. Being nude on the beach close to our casa is a very iffy proposition which requires a longish walk to get away from early morning beach traffic – so many want to greet each sunrise here on the Caribbean coast of Mexico.

Instead of being at the beach to honour the appearance of the sun each morning, I am able to be in our garden fully nude. In the past I have talked about experiences using nudity as therapy, including references to literature on that topic. I sense that it is about time that I returned to this theme for future posts here. I am hoping that rather than having a focus on the nudity that can too easily become fixated upon displays of genitals, the use of judicious editing of images will convey honest nudity in a manner that allows the words to be heard. I don’t want the images to get in the way, but I do think that images are vital in the process, a means of having the walk and the talk become one.

Typically I time my meditation so that the first rays of sunshine to enter the garden area will touch me, illuminate me. It becomes a very spiritual time for me. It is as though I am having my body filled with light and warm that comes out of an inner peace. My wife and our landlady who owns the house in which we occupy her deceased mother’s art studio, both honour this time as they quietly do their things, sometimes passing by me in the process. I would have never thought that this would have been possible three years ago when I first “intentionally” adopted naturism as a mode of therapy.

The last photo for the book was taken from a series on building a sand castle on the beach here in Puerto Morelos, Mexico. With the last photo selected (not this photo), I wrote the last poem which then freed me to begin the layout and editing process.

I am excited on the way it has all unfolded over the past two months. I am hoping that I can have the book published by the end of March or in early April.

Now that the Naked Poetry project is finished, I am busy with preparing Jungian psychology presentations that I will present during the month of March in Puerto Morelos. Of course daily beach walks and skyclad sunbathing will remain high on my list of daily routines.

I am more than amazed at just how many nude photos of the both of us were taken during the project. We didn’t even come close to using some of the settings that were attempted. There were quite a few of the photos which were taken in full view of different people, with one setting having a security guard appear and counsel us to leave the property. Nothing was said about either of us being nude.

We are having our friends, a neighbour couple from our home community in Canada, come to spend the month of March in Puerto Morelos, a great opportunity to add another dimension to friendship.

With only a month until our return to Canada, our thoughts are already turning to our training and preparation for our autumn project of walking the Camino de Santiago. I am sure that I will be writing more about that over the next six months until we begin a two-month long adventure in Spain and France. Who said life after 65 is boring? As long as a person remains young at heart, and takes the time to play (and perhaps build sand castles), age is just a number.

It has been a while since my last post to this site. It is time to take care of that issue. As the image shows, I have been busy with my latest project, book three of the Naked Poetry series. The original plans, of course, were completely ignored as the photos were taken in preparation for writing the poems. In the first two books, I wrote the poetry before considering what photo could be used or taken to fit each poem. In the second poetry book, I had sent a poem to a number of naturist friends who then submitted a poem to be included in that second book. It worked, worked well. I had originally thought I would write all 45 poems based on the three books by Robert A. Johnson – He, She, and We before I got photos to match. It didn’t work out that way as I got stuck. So much for well laid plans.

Above, is the proposed cover photo for Naked Poetry series. book three. Like the second book, my wife is on the cover with me. She has been an integral part of the creation of this third book of poetry. It soon became a project that involved my wife in a major way. She is featured in all the photos that required a female presence and she had numerous ideas for the scenes and sites for those photos of her and of us. As I write this, there are just two photos left to be taken, photos of myself with her as the photographer, a new role for her in terms of being part of the three poetry books.

As a result, I can’t claim the sole role of photographer or even as the person conceiving the scenes for the poetry. My sole claim to complete ownership is with the poetry. Since in the end, it is a poetry book, I feel good about how it has all worked out. I will make sure that photo credits are given where due.

The experience of writing with the photo being used as a backdrop is a new idea for me. It removed the need to select a few lines from a poem in order to find a way to match a photo to a pre-existing poem. As a result, I find myself very satisfied and willing to try the same approach again in the future.