Nude Gardening

The first picking of green beans

It’s that time of year when the garden begins to produce food. This morning I picked the first batch of green beans, enough for a meal this evening. I enjoy these kind of tasks, especially since I don’t have to get dressed to do them.

Earlier this week, I went for another seven and a half kilometre nude hike in the hills as it will likely be my last opportunity to do this type of hiking for almost two weeks. Also headed to the sidelines will be my taking time in the afternoons for some sunbathing. I have my three youngest grandchildren coming to my house. The two youngest will stay for two days with their father, then only the eldest of the three will stay for another week at our place with his friend. A lot of activities are planned so that they will leave with positive memories. My life isn’t all about nudity.

I have just watched a six part series called the Making of a Tyrant. Though the series was focused on infamous tyrants in our relatively recent past, the series highlighted the concept of tyrant that could extend to very small circles such as families, social groups, and modern political parties. The first program is about Hitler and the last one is about Kim Jong-un. However, the tyrants studied are more about illustrating concepts than about the men themselves – and yes, they are all men.

The issue is control and how determined people will do anything to keep control or punish those who refuse to be controlled. I strongly advise each of my readers here to watch this series, if possible. I don’t want to get into modern day politics other than to say that the issues and conditions and the intentions still exist in today’s modern world. I do simply ask that you think about our world through a wide-awake lens.

Now back to the grandchildren. We have a trip to a water park, backyard adventures, a trip to a First Nations archeological site that was once a buffalo jump, a couple of rounds of golfing with the eldest of the three and his best friend with whom I have done most of my golfing over the past two years, time in the local swimming pool, and free time for their technology. Hiking and a BBQ are also on the agenda – but not nude hiking, obviously. It should be a good time with grandchildren.

Who is in Control of Whom?

It’s my body, not yours.

Who is in control of whom. It’s a topic that has spurred many discussions in my own home, especially about my nudity. However, the subject is not just about nudists or naturists and the images they post on various social media platforms. It is also at the heart of all relationships beginning with a parent and child. I see this all too vividly with my grandchildren who span the ages of 2 to 25. The first instance comes when an infant shows resistance or outright refusal. No one is immune to the issue of control. Now, with that said, I want to return to the issue of control as it affects naturists and nudists, or people who just plain want to shed their clothing without being labelled.

My wife has asked me not to share images of her. And, so I don’t. It is as simple as that. She has also asked that I don’t share images of myself on social media sites where family and friends are connected to me. The requests are reasonable though didn’t have to be made as I had no intention of posting images on these sites – and as an aside, those sites wouldn’t permit such images to be posted regardless. So, is this an issue of control? She has never told me not to post photos though I know that if she had her way there would be no such posting, let alone photos taken to be posted. And, it isn’t that she gives permission or allows me to take my photos or post the odd one here and there. I give myself permission. And that, is a key factor in getting and keeping control of one’s own identity.

You know that you are in a toxic relationship when someone uses the relationship and threats of ending the relationship, or at the least their extreme disappointment and displeasure, to control who posts what on social media. “Don’t post photos of your _______!” – fill in the blank.

The pressure to go full frontal, or to avoid full frontal by a significant other can overwhelm when one feels that their relationship will come to an end otherwise. For too many, the threat of ending a relationship will have them walk on eggshells around their partner.

For a naturist/nudist/whatever to have their significant other who is also a nude, to take control [or want to control] one’s nude experiences and expression is confusing at the least. Removing clothing is about embracing freedom and claiming self-ownership. Self-concept grows into self-confidence. However for some, the focus on “Self” slips into narcissism where the partner is a subset in the relationship. The best response is to reclaim self-ownership. Clinging to dependency on the other at the cost to self-esteem is a recipe for anxiety, depression, and loss of self.

I know, it is easier said than done, especially for those who have invested decades into a relationship with children and perhaps even grandchildren in the picture. Yet, I do know that the self shrivels and dies inside when everything revolves around the power and whims of the partner. The response to a controlling other is to reclaim control over self. The attempt to turn the tables and control the other is not a healthy response.

So, where does that leave a person when the healthiest thing to do is to walk away, close the door to the controlling other? “Do I or don’t I?” My response, inform the “other” of the new boundaries regarding control. There is a chance that the “other” will hear and believe and thus provide a path forward for the relationship. However, for most such situations, the response is closure. Closing the door to the old relationship allows a new door to open. A word of caution, that primary new relationship needs to be about rebuilding the relationship with self, not grasping for a new “other.”

Time is needed.

The Journey of a Relationship

Escaping to the indoors to cool off and write.

Today is the start of another round of 30+ Celsius temperatures here on the Canadian prairies. The forecast is for at least 11 days of such temperatures with the other three days pegged at 29 C to round out the next two weeks. So far, it might be safe to say that we have had more 30+ daytime highs in 2021 than I have experienced here in the past twenty years. One of the fallouts of so many hot days is that I am walking less distance than usual, especially since strong winds have been a norm here as well for the past few months. I had thought I would go out later this afternoon for a naturist walk in the hills since I only did a short 8 km walk this morning. However, it is now cancelled, perhaps a good thing as I am finding the time to write here.

I am a writer. At least that is what I tell myself and what others around me would say about me as well. Yet for the past number of weeks, I haven’t done all that much writing so far this summer. I find myself stepping away from my computer and spending more time outdoors in my garden while I can. Autumn and winter will come and with it the impulse to write more. My current work-in-progress is a “feel-good” book that tells the tale of fifty years of marriage – my marriage. The book does not pretend to tell the whole story but it does tell a real story. Not all stories need to expose warts and stains and the sins of self and other. Because it is sticking with the narrative of movement – a life-long pilgrimage of two people somehow bonded together despite being opposites [I’m INFP and she is ESTJ]. Since I don’t have to create characters or a plot line, it becomes a simple matter of gleaning the highlights over fifty years of relationship, especially those highlights that have us journeying from one place to the other.

The idea is to finish the book in another six weeks. Ideally, I was going to create a book of about 25,000 words with photos illustrating each period. So far I have 41,000 words with about one chapter left to write. I checked with Amazon and found that the maximum file size for uploading is about 650MB. I hope to keep this book under 500MB. If this becomes impossible, I have another option where I build the book online via Blurb.Ca / Blurb.Com which I used for my Jungian Psychology booklets. The book is to be our gift to our children and grandchildren. I will make it available for sale at some point after they have their print copies of the book.

Now, for the questions that must surely be out there, especially how did we manage to do this … well the truth is, it just happened. We are both very stubborn people and don’t want to fail at things. It hasn’t been easy. It never is easy when a person has to somehow accommodate another person into their space where control becomes the dominant issue. Everyone wants to be their unique self. Everyone wants to feel independent and strong. Yet somehow, there is always a need for the other to meet one’s needs, and to meet the needs of one’s partner which results in both becoming dependent upon the other.

There is no advice to be given. Every journey of relationship is unique. I watch my children engaged in their journeys of relationship, seeing the storms and the calm waters. Will they hold together? Should they hold together? I don’t have the answers. I do, however, hope that they remain true to themselves on their journeys.

What about your journey? Even if there is no “other” there is the “self” journey that also demands being true to yourself. This isn’t about narcissism. It is about self-realisation.

Naked Issues of Control

Canada Day Reflection Coloured Orange

All of us suffer from issues of control. Who or what we try to control as well as who or what outside of us is trying to control us. Before I go on with this topic, I want to state that this issue of control includes “self” control, but not necessarily with the meaning that is generally assumed for self-control which is more about caving in to the societal controls as though we are policing ourselves. This has nothing to do with Naturism. This is universal where there is more than one person in the picture. With that said, this blog post will focus on naturism or nudism or just plain “not wearing clothing.”

For starters, nudity-nakedness comes with a gut level response, some of it understandable and most of it coming from the unconscious aspect of one’s self. Positive or negative, we all have a visceral response. Many in the naturist community don’t get this as they assume that once a person tries naturism, they will be positively impressed and be converted. This is very naïve thinking. Some people try over and over again but still can’t get past the negative gut responses that often shows up as physical responses similar to an allergic response. We all have a history that works as a powerful inhibitor. Not everyone is able to break through that embedded psychological imprint. With effort they can accept that it is okay for others, but it “just isn’t right” for them. There is no judgement call demanding others keep their clothing on. “Self” control is about trying to find one’s path through these psychic restrictions.

The other face of “self” control is how we get conditioned by the larger society, and in particular, the micro societies in which we live, including work, family, and community. Societal codes depend on individuals policing themselves to keep societal norms in place. The restrictive scripts are echoes of our parents, extended family, community, religious faith, and other sources of outer authority. There is little thinking involved, we simply obey the unwritten codes that were embedded during our formative years.

Now, when one enters into a relationship with a significant other, a new dance of control ensues. The control can be overt with one dominating the other, usually not a loving form of control. The control is enacted with the intent of moulding the “other” into a prescribed image of what is believed to be the best kind of partner. Resistance to changing to fit into the mould is viewed as stubbornness. “If you loved me, you’d …” is a more passive form of exerting control. Many naturists are familiar with this phrase which is usually spoken to lessen the incidences of nudity by their partner. Somehow, being nude is seen and understood, perhaps even believed to be about the other person. Control of the naturist is essential for the “other” to remain at the centre. It isn’t about love regardless of the words spoken.

“No one wants to see you nude. If you loved me you’d wear clothes and be happy wearing them.”

“There’s no way that I can feel sexually stimulated when you’re naked all the time. Wear clothes and you’ll be more sexually attractive to me.”

“Your nudity is having people shun me and afraid to come over to our house.”

The list goes on and on. But it doesn’t stop there. Two naturists in a significant relationship also face issues of control. It takes a huge effort to lose the compulsion to control the other. Fear is at the root of the problem. “What if …?”

In the comments below, feel free to talk about how you are both victim and controller in your life. I am listening. Contradict me, teach me, affirm my words – your choice. Or, simply remain silent, again your choice.

In Transit – The Naked Journey

In transit somewhere along a life’s journey.

My life and your life are journeys. Regardless of whether or not we are wearing clothing, the core of who we are beneath any camouflage, is a naked self. That is the centre. Anything that we might grasp at and seek to possess doesn’t erase the truth that possessions are not significant for the journey. Our experiences, the stuff that we often try to concretise with photographs, have one purpose. They serve to allow our psyche to become better aware of oneself.

The scene in my photo shows the wall of photographs that shows the “wanderings” of the last fifteen years. It’s impressive in terms of a scorecard, if that is important. However for me, it is more of an invitation to go in search of those places not yet experienced, more like a jigsaw puzzle with missing pieces. The hallway is symbolic of the journey, the corridor through time with a light at the end which invites one to enter the light and be at home. I have turned away from the light that would signal an end to the journey. I am not ready. There is so much more of the world to see, so many people with whom I might have a chance encounter that would allow me to discover more of the mystery of my own being, let alone the mystery of who they are.

As much as we might try to deny it, each of us is at the centre of the universe. We can’t escape being at the centre though we may try desperately to stand at the sidelines and let the light of others shine brightly, denying our own light. Our individual journey doesn’t have an end that has a certificate issued at the end like some sort of report card and final evaluation. There is only the endless journey of experiences with others, the environment, and our hidden selves. Fear, love, doubt, anger, joy, indifference, pain, ecstasy – all of it touches something deep within and uncovers a bit more of what we don’t know about ourselves, even if we are not fully conscious yet of what that is. We are bigger that we know.

How we view others is a mirror of what we deny about ourselves. We deny most of ourselves, the good, the bad, the beautiful and the ugly. Unconsciously our unknown self is projected. If there is any feeling response to another person, something inside of us has been activated. We get angry at some abuse committed by another person and vilify that person. We stand up taller and righteously as better when in truth, that same darkness lies within each of us. There is no atrocity that our unknown inner self is capable of committing. And the same goes for when we adore others. They appear to be what we wish we could be as we then push ourselves downwards as lesser. Yet, that inner self has that same aspect. We would not recognise any way of being if it wasn’t already encoded within us as a part of our self.

The journey of life isn’t about escaping darkness in a quest of perfection. It is about stripping down to the basic core of who we are and accepting, unconditionally the truth of who we are. We are all perpetually hungry, a hunger that no food or drink has ever been able to satiate. We are hungry for knowing who we are beneath our clothing and our limited awareness of self.

Nudity and Sexuality

Emma in between sets of clothing – undressed.

Nudity and sexuality. I know that many, many people are loathe to put the words nudity and sexual together. If this were about religion, that would be a mortal sin, one that would condemn one to the deepest pits of whatever hell one could imagine. Now, one of these states doesn’t automatically assume the other. After all, just being clothing free doesn’t mean that there is a sexual desire or sexual intent, It might simply mean just being naked. There is nothing simple about it as our minds are complex things. For example, we all change our clothing which necessitates the removal of all clothing and then replacing the items with more clothing. That moment when we are in between … at that moment we are naked, nude … and there is little question that is unlikely to be taken as a sexual act or sexual provocation.

However, even that is not so cut and dried. Human minds are, as I said, complex. What any of us thinks while in the in between zone is also a factor. At times, there is an “intent” in the choice of clothing that turns the scene into a sexual experience. I don’t know what Emma was thinking about while she goes through her drawers of clothing, choosing various items, only she would know that. So, I am left assuming a non-sexual situation. However, that is me. Others might simply see a nipple or some curves and for them, it becomes a sexual image. It’s all in the mind, isn’t it.

Another scene, a person in a shower. Washing. It’s pretty mundane and purposeful. However, sometimes the streams of water awaken something, even if momentarily, to remind a person that they are sexually alive, a delicious feeling. And then it fades as the business of washing up continues.

This is me! For me! And I will share or not.

The point is, we are sexual beings. We have an innate need for connection with others, even if that need is barely registering on the radar. Curiously, the person who is most involved in this whole business of sexuality is the self. Another image of Emma, quite different from the first one, is decidedly sexual. The strange thing is, one doesn’t see anything other that scattered patches of skin, yet there is no mistaking the pose. Still, that isn’t to say much of anything. If there was no viewer, it doesn’t change anything … or does it? Is it about the viewer or about the photographer or the subject of the image [often one and the same person]. Despite all of this, I have no doubts that the image and the intent has a sexual impulse.

That’s okay. After all, we are sexual beings. We all have some libido, even if it barely registers in our opinion. It has nothing to do with our belief systems or our intentions. Whether or not there is nudity involved is irrelevant. People fall in love, lust, and misbehave when the object of their attention is clothed. In fact, what we buy to wear accentuates the natural sexual needs at a subconscious level. We make a ourselves handsome or beautiful without thinking about it. Yet, we as a society, are blind to what we do and why we do it. Rather, we project our stuff on others and blame them. Our desires and our needs are there whether there is nudity or not.

As for myself, I don’t pretend that I don’t find myself drawn to certain women. In my world, there is little to no chance that I would ever see these women naked, and that is okay. This sense of being drawn to someone does not give my permission to act on that. It does, however, give me something to think about regarding myself. With all of that said, what do you think? Agree? Disagree?

Naked Hiking Day

So, apparently June 21st is Naked Hiking Day. I for one will not be going hiking on the twenty-first. I have other things to attend to for the day. Besides, any day is a naked hiking day when the weather and opportunity presents itself. Today was my fourth such hiking day. Personally, I am not in favour of having June 21st as Naked Hiking Day. The day is already packed with meaning as the summer solstice. And for me, the day is also Canada’s National Aboriginal Day. Enough said, now back to naked hiking, or as I prefer to call it free hiking.

Why “free”? Free of clothing is an obvious answer, but it isn’t the whole of it. Besides, as you can see in the image, not all of the clothing is absent. I was wearing socks, proper shoes [not always the case] and a hat. Should I count the watch? Likely yes, as we say “wearing a watch.” The same goes for glasses. That leaves one to either conclude that this is not about being free of all clothing. For myself, it comes down to a “feeling.” I love being barefoot and bareheaded but sometimes that isn’t a good plan. I live in semi desert country and there are too many dangers with walking with bare feet. Think cacti and sharp rocks and other objects that would do harm. The road to get to the wild prairie hills is laced with many sharp rocks. It is rare to find anyone walking. If not in a truck, there is the odd person who makes their way into the hills with an all-terrain vehicle. I’ve never met a solitary person out walking regardless of hiking footwear or barefoot.

The hat? Think of an endless sky, unbroken by clouds and the sun working hard to cook the earth. Remember, this is semi-desert country. Hats are protective and not a fashion statement. It would be different if I was in a different part of the world where being bare headed wasn’t an invitation to heat stress.

The watch? Truth be told, I rarely wear a watch. This watch is a Garmin. It tracks where, when, how long, the terrain, and a host of other information I ignore. I use the watch to record my distance for the most part since I can’t measure distance any other way when wandering up and down hills, across wild grasslands, or along the edges of farmed fields. I don’t have to do this, and often I don’t. However, sometimes it is good to know. Most times I don’t wear the watch.

Typically, when the weather is hot and I want to walk further, I take a backpack and my trekking poles. Water goes into the backpack along with my shorts and my top. Sometimes I even pack a small bag of nuts and raisins. Of course, my phone and wallet and car keys are also included if I have had to drive to a starting location, something I have to do if I want it to be a “free” hike.

Free is a feeling. The stride, the focus, the placing of one foot in front of the other without any thought intruding. In a way, it is my preferred way to meditate. I leave my monkey mind aside when the kilometres role by and the only thing that one has to be mindful of is the surface where one’s next step will be placed. Any idea of activism has vanished. Hiking is just the self and the environment.

Now, not all hiking while clothing free is free-hiking. Sometimes it is a social event. That is completely different. I do love walking with others. Okay, enough of this. I invite you to find a time and place for you to walk unencumbered of clothing. The experience is incredible.

Why Do We Put Up Statues?

Fantasy nudes for a garden

I have to admit that when I travel, I take a lot of photos of statues. A few of my most favourite statues that I got up close and personal with and took photos were Neptune in Bologna, Italy and The Thinker in Paris, France. There has yet to be a country and/or city that I have visited that hasn’t had a number of statues to be admired. I am sure you have likely noticed the same thing, You may have also noticed that so many of those statues had nude subjects – gods and goddesses seem to be the number one choice. However, more and more modern statues with nude subjects are about ordinary people though not any particular person. In my yard, I have two Buddhas – not nudes though both have little in the way of clothing as they meditate in the garden. I would like to put in a few classical nude statues, but in truth there is little room in my small yard.

Other statues usually depict a man who is important in historical terms. You can’t rewrite history, but what we put up as statues tells others more about us and our beliefs and value system than it does about history. An example: a statue of Hitler or any other historical person who is more infamous than famous. By putting up such a statue, we give honour to that personage. By taking it down, we aren’t cancelling history or culture, we are choosing not to celebrate it. If one is creating a walk that has every president of the USA in bronze, then it is important to include all of the past presidents. But that aside, there isn’t any person past or present that I want in my garden. I am all about ideas such as children or an old man and woman.

That said, it would be kind of neat to have oneself as a statue. The real problem would be to choose which version of oneself that one would have carved in stone or cast in bronze. For myself, I’d rather not deal with that thought at all. I’d rather play it safe and have a statue that has a message rather than honour a particular person. And of course, I’d want the statue to have a nude body that was less perfect – a slight paunch for both male and female, wrinkles and or scars, faces that aren’t perfectly symmetrical – the anyman-anywoman.

Would you put a statue in your yard or home? If there was no objection from another person, especially a significant other, nor a matter of cost, what if any statue would you commission?

When The Mind Skips From Being Present to Imminent Future

What a beautiful day to go for a walk in the hills. I had it all planned out. Camera, tripod, backpack, water, shirt and shorts of course. I also had my cellphone and wallet with me as I took my truck to a point about 16 kilometres from my small prairie town – eleven kilometres west and five south. I pulled up to a row of grain bins about a kilometre off the main grid. There was no action in the nearby fields – no farmer out spraying for weed. Parking my truck beside the bins, the shirt went into the backpack and my shorts were tucked onto one of the shoulder straps of my backpack. The tripod was tied onto the outside of the small daypack with the DSLR camera tucked inside the backpack along with a bottle of water and the shirt. It was then that I noticed that I didn’t have any hiking shoes or running shoes on my feet. All I had on were thin clog-like footwear. I shrugged and decided that I should at least walk a short distance in them rather than return back to my house and try again another day. My footwear is the same as these for the most part.

Well, by the time I had gone two kilometres to reach the end of what could pass for a road, I decided that I could try going further following the hint of a trail through the hills that lay ahead. At the 4 1/4 kilometre mark, my usual turn around point at the top of a hill with two antique pieces of field machinery, I stopped for a couple of photos and for half of my water, and to simply enjoy the incredible feeling of the sun on my body. I had no issues with my feet and had even forgotten that I wasn’t wearing hiking footwear.


On the way back to reach the dirt road, I stopped three times to take photos with flowers. At the gate area [the gate has been gone for years] I noticed that my shorts were not hanging from their usual place. For a moment I thought I would have to return tomorrow to retrace my route to find them. But then I had some doubts. What if I needed them on the dirt road to reach the grain bins because a farmer had arrived to do some spraying? How would I get from my truck to the house with no shorts on? The questions told me that I needed to retrace my route.

I walk-jogged the full two and a half kilometres back to the turn-around point where I found the shorts laying on the ground. Then, with them tightly grasped in my hand, I walk-jogged back to where I had left my backpack and camera. A eight and a half kilometre hike had turned into a thirteen and a half kilometre hike. Back at the truck, I quickly stashed everything in side of it and began the drive back to my place. Three kilometres left to go, I stopped the truck to put on the pair of shorts. At that point, I noticed that the bottoms of my feet were hot and tender. They weren’t meant for hiking and jogging. I wonder if I will be able to go hiking tomorrow? If I can, I hope I can remember to keep my head focused on staying present long enough to grab the right footwear.

Sky Clad Therapy? Psychological Naturist? Or … ?

Maybe I should blame this post on the weather as it is a gloomy morning here on the Canadian prairies. Today’s post is different from my usual run-of-the-mill posts, more introspective and perhaps even critical. The weather certainly does have a tendency to have a person withdraw within where sunshine has the tendency to have a person leave the protective shell to engage with the outer world.

As some of you may know, I have a history with mental-health issues. However, I don’t want to get into those issues here other than to perhaps serve as a warning that a trigger or two may lay in the words to come. Rather, I want to focus on the present. As a person with a significant background in psychology, which includes teaching psychology and being a part-time mental health counsellor over a number of decades, you would think that by the age of seventy-plus I would have my shit together. Sadly, that’s not the case. Saying that, I have to add that I am mostly in a decent place, and that I am not at risk as was the case decades ago. Likely, there is no cure for a fractured psyche.

The Covid19 pandemic must also be figured into the mix. Like everyone else, life had been turned upside down because of Covid19. Unlike most people, the need to be socially distant has not been a hardship for me with the exception of not being able to see my grandchildren and adult children for too many months. I am an introvert. People overwhelm me at times. Even playing with my grandchildren and socialising with my children and their spouses wears me out leaving me exhausted at the end of each day.

So much for the background material. Now, it’s time to get into the main subject matter. Sky Clad Therapy? Is there really such a thing? In my personal circumstances, I can honestly answer “Yes!” However, I am a realist and know that for most people, the answer would be a resounding “No! No! No! Are you out of your freaking mind?” I know at an academic level that there is evidence that nudity does help some people deal with some of their mental-health issues. Maslow said as much and one of his followers, Paul Bindrim led a number of experimental group therapy efforts where nudity in a pool was a requirement. Other psychologists also tried to incorporate nudity as a tool to help the healing process. Aileen Goodson, author of Therapy, Nudity and Joy has gathered a significant number of other efforts to affirm that for some, nudity helps with the healing process. As a former mental-health practitioner I quickly learned that each client had unique needs regardless of the wounding they had suffered to bring them to counselling. There is no one-size-fits-all therapy model. So yes, Sky Clad Therapy is real.

On one of my trips to my home naturist campground, my significant other accompanied me. It didn’t take her long to note that it appeared that everyone at the site seemed to be wounded in some way, a fact that helped her understand what I had been telling her. She is not a nudist by any stretch of the imagination but is also not closed-minded. She knows first hand that nudity is a vital part of why I have been able to become a healthier person. Periodic attempts on my part to shelve nudity in an attempt to fit better into a normal textile world always end up in various stages of failure with her saying, “Take of your damned clothes.” Now, as many of my readers know, I push boundaries when I am nude, but that is a different issue for a different time.

Now, what about a psychological naturist? Why do I focus on the psychology of naturism? To be honest, Psychology had nothing to do with naturism for me back in the eighties and nineties when I was adding yet another degree to my CV. As an educator, I often found myself counselling some of my students. Most teachers find themselves cast into the role of untrained counsellors, so that wasn’t something strange. However, I didn’t want to just wing it based on intuition. Of course, nothing studied at the university or in follow up courses at training institutes or in other certificate programs had anything about naturism as a healing strategy. But, on consideration of our collective society, this wasn’t something too surprising. Even today, though many are now trying to normalise naturism, mainstream psychology keeps a healthy distant from its dubious past. So why do I combine psychology and naturism? Is it just about me and trying to justify who I am?

Good questions, but the most important question that is hounding me at present is “Why not just give up this whole nudity thing and make your life so much easier?” So why don’t I? Why don’t I just delete the nude photos in my archives and all my social media presence as a naturist? Why does this blog site even exist? What’s the point? I mean, it would make my partner’s life that much easier and that has to count for something. As well, it would remove some stress on my neighbours who have to put up with occasional sightings of the naked old man. They are lovely people but I am informed that it does cause them stress. If I could somehow morph into a different person who is content with wearing clothing and being more sociable, I would likely have a friend or two.

I don’t have friends in my face-to-face world. I don’t remember ever having friends that I could call real friends. I wasn’t even friends with myself. I am friendly and smile and speak gently with no put downs of others. I am a nice guy. It was my survival strategy as a child that has continued to the present. The “me” I keep hidden from others is still there, buried beneath whatever role or circumstance of life that presents itself. In the world of naturism, in a naturist venue, it gets easier for me. I often imagine that I might even have a friend if I only stayed in one place long enough. A week or less doesn’t cut it. In the world of social media, it is a different story – at least I think so. I have friends. Perhaps they are real friends, perhaps not. But friends or no friends isn’t the issue. The issue is whether or not I can, should, or could give up the world of naturism to live a more peaceful life.

My answer to this is a poem, Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night. Is this the supreme act of selfishness when family, friends, neighbours, and my significant other need something different from me? Feel free to offer your answers.