It's easy to just go about one's business reading stuff off the web, watching your preferred news sources, and talking to friends who probably believe in the same things you do or you probably wouldn't be associating with them. The problem with that walled garden is that you begin to think that your beliefs are "middle of the road" and that others will soon see things your way, if they'd just open their eyes.
It doesn't work that way. It's easy for those of us who have crossed over to the other side to lose sight of how the public perceives who we are and what we're doing. If you go searching for material on the web about naturism or only consume news that has a socially liberal or has libertarian bent, you'll think the world is coming around to our way of thinking. Instead we become frustrated when it doesn't.
I have strong opinions on a lot of things. Even so, I take the time to read all sides of issues from various sources, US and foreign, conservative to liberal, business point of view to environmentalist. But most of all, I keep my eyes and ears open to what the general media and public, and friends say about naturism, or nudism, or whatever else they call it. I try to take it in as if I'm an unbiased observer, to see how others might be seeing it.
What I notice is that nudism and nudists (as they prefer to call us here in the US), is, and always has been, a curiosity that they just can't seem to completely ignore. The public doesn't understand it and for the most part, they really don't care to. Even so, recently both CNN (liberal) and Fox News (conservative) have featured short articles on nude beaches and nudist resorts in a matter of fact to completely positive way. As if it might be something the reader might find interesting, without exploring or explaining why they should.
Last weekend I was at an outdoor bar on the water and overheard a guy at the next table saying something about seeing a "Beyond this point you may encounter nude bathers" sign. I assume he visited Haulover Beach in South Florida, being the only designated and so posted beach here in the Sunshine State.
We had a family gathering in Kissimmee a few months ago and along the way we stopped at the intersection at the entrance to Cypress Cove. It's directly across from Lowes on a four lane road in what's becoming a main suburb of the town, instead of being way out in the boonies like it used to be. The fancy sign facing the intersection says only "Cypress Cove". But some family members in the car who don't know I'm a nudist and that I've been there many times pointed out the fact that there's the local nudist place! Humm... But then, most people in that and nearby communities know it's there.
The public knows we exist and that there's a lot of us out there. We can't expect them to understand or someday try it if we don't explain ourselves to them. The media's opened the door. The rest is up to us.
I do a small part by answering questions on Yahoo answers targeting the keywords "nudist", "naturist", "nudism", "naturism", "nudity", "nude", and "naked". I sometimes answer stupid or demeaning questions, not for the sake of the person who posted, but for the sake of readers who might stumble onto the question out of curiosity. By answering, they might come away learning something new that they didn't seek.
I also write a bit here for the few people who might find it. Other than a few that follow a link that I might sometimes add to an answer, most people who find this probably are already of the same mindset. If so, do your part. If not, keep asking questions :)
Sunday, July 5, 2015
Sunday, June 14, 2015
Swimming Naked
I've written about how wonderful it is to be at clothing optional beaches naked, but unfortunately, most people we never experience that for themselves. Or they won't let themselves experience it. Swimming naked is another matter. Many, if not most people, have "skinny-dipped". Either briefly in a lake, the ocean, or someone's pool. Maybe in remote places. Perhaps with their spouse. Maybe even with friends. The problem is that most people never get to experience it worry and guilt free like I do every day. It's not the same if you're worried about other people stumbling onto you, or that it's such a over the top dare that you'd never do it casually.
A few years after my wife and I married, I pushed for putting a pool in the back yard. I had a few bonuses coming and we had already added a privacy fence to the back yard. She didn't think the kids would use it much, but I knew that I would.
When I was young, my parents put in a small pool. I learned to swim at a very early age and grew up just miles from the warm Gulf of Mexico here in Florida. I took to the pool as if it were my second home. I was a certified scuba diving and lifeguard at 16 and could hold my breath long enough to scare any adult. Even now, I find myself darting back and forth underwater like a caged dolphin, loving it. My mother used to refer to me as her "fish", an expression my wife also uses to describe me.
My parent's pool wasn't at all private. They had a small lot, no fence, and neighbors on every side. Even so, they made a point of going in together after dark, skinny-dipping. We were invited, but we foolishly didn't join in.
In the meantime, our pool has always been completely private and neither my wife or I wear anything in either the hot tub or in the pool unless we have guests. Even then, we don't make a secret of our preference, which anyone can guess reading the sign on the subject we have on the patio. Some have taken up our invitation to try it, and sometimes we've joined them.
Our kids have always known that if my wife and I are in the water, that we're naked. Our daughter (clothed) would join us (mother naked, me clothed), but they only swam naked themselves when we were out of sight. Sometimes alone, sometimes with friends. They're both adults now and as with other guests that use the house while we're gone, they're encouraged to take advantage of the privacy and to continue the tradition.
There is not starker difference between clothed and nude than in the water. I swim laps every day most of the year and I so hate wearing a swimsuit, that I avoid swimming when I have to wear a suit. I hate the drag and the rubbing of the suit in the water, and I hate that heavy wet hanging on me afterwards that takes FOREVER to dry. Swimming naked without a care in the world, any time I want to, is a luxury most people will never know. I feel completely one with the water as it glides effortlessly over my skin and supports every part of me evenly. When I get out, I air dry quickly and I'm ready to lay again in the sun, work on the patio, or go inside the house without having to wait to find some place to peel off that soppy nasty heavy thing around me, and to find some place to put the thing to dry, which it often doesn't before I need it again. Oh, and the horror of putting on a still wet suit when you're dry and maybe even have to walk around with it on for a long time before being able to get in the water.
If you haven't skinny-dipped, find a way to do it. It's much better if you can find a place to do it guilt and worry free, such as in a really remote location, at an accepted nude beach, or at a nudist club or resort. If you have access to a pool, go in at night with the lights out. Take off your suit once you're in and put it back on before you get out. Unless you're at a hotel with people looking down from above, no one will see you. That's what my parents always did. Either way, give it a try and think about how wonderful it would be to not have to ever wear a swimsuit again.
A few years after my wife and I married, I pushed for putting a pool in the back yard. I had a few bonuses coming and we had already added a privacy fence to the back yard. She didn't think the kids would use it much, but I knew that I would.
When I was young, my parents put in a small pool. I learned to swim at a very early age and grew up just miles from the warm Gulf of Mexico here in Florida. I took to the pool as if it were my second home. I was a certified scuba diving and lifeguard at 16 and could hold my breath long enough to scare any adult. Even now, I find myself darting back and forth underwater like a caged dolphin, loving it. My mother used to refer to me as her "fish", an expression my wife also uses to describe me.
My parent's pool wasn't at all private. They had a small lot, no fence, and neighbors on every side. Even so, they made a point of going in together after dark, skinny-dipping. We were invited, but we foolishly didn't join in.
In the meantime, our pool has always been completely private and neither my wife or I wear anything in either the hot tub or in the pool unless we have guests. Even then, we don't make a secret of our preference, which anyone can guess reading the sign on the subject we have on the patio. Some have taken up our invitation to try it, and sometimes we've joined them.
Our kids have always known that if my wife and I are in the water, that we're naked. Our daughter (clothed) would join us (mother naked, me clothed), but they only swam naked themselves when we were out of sight. Sometimes alone, sometimes with friends. They're both adults now and as with other guests that use the house while we're gone, they're encouraged to take advantage of the privacy and to continue the tradition.
There is not starker difference between clothed and nude than in the water. I swim laps every day most of the year and I so hate wearing a swimsuit, that I avoid swimming when I have to wear a suit. I hate the drag and the rubbing of the suit in the water, and I hate that heavy wet hanging on me afterwards that takes FOREVER to dry. Swimming naked without a care in the world, any time I want to, is a luxury most people will never know. I feel completely one with the water as it glides effortlessly over my skin and supports every part of me evenly. When I get out, I air dry quickly and I'm ready to lay again in the sun, work on the patio, or go inside the house without having to wait to find some place to peel off that soppy nasty heavy thing around me, and to find some place to put the thing to dry, which it often doesn't before I need it again. Oh, and the horror of putting on a still wet suit when you're dry and maybe even have to walk around with it on for a long time before being able to get in the water.
If you haven't skinny-dipped, find a way to do it. It's much better if you can find a place to do it guilt and worry free, such as in a really remote location, at an accepted nude beach, or at a nudist club or resort. If you have access to a pool, go in at night with the lights out. Take off your suit once you're in and put it back on before you get out. Unless you're at a hotel with people looking down from above, no one will see you. That's what my parents always did. Either way, give it a try and think about how wonderful it would be to not have to ever wear a swimsuit again.
Sunday, May 31, 2015
How "they" see "us"
Nudity. I don't understand why that's even a word. Regardless of how we hide from each other, it's nothing more than what we simply are. We're born preferring to be naked, not caring if other people are naked around us. We had to be taught to be ashamed and intolerant of what we are. Conditioning ourselves to feel that way about ourselves is cruel, and teaching that to our kids is a not so subtle form of child abuse.
I like being naked because it's more comfortable to be naked. I like that being naked encourages others to do the same, and that their being naked with others makes them feel better about themselves.
We like to talk about nudism, naturism, or whatever label you prefer as if it were a secret technique, an alternative lifestyle, or a learned behavior in itself. It isn't. It's our natural behavior. It's cooked into our DNA to like being human and to like what our own species looks like. It's also our natural social behavior to accept each other's flaws as part of what binds us together as people. That's why it takes so many years to condition children not to be naked, and why, as adults, that conditioning is so easily shaken.
People who have never allowed themselves to experience that freedom view us as curiosities. A little perverted, driven by an exhibitionist streak that we're in denial about. But mostly harmless, as long as they don't have to see it. But with the Internet and the need to fill the 24 hour news cycle, people can't resist the fact that we do exist, and they're puzzled by it.
The trick is o get people to try it. Until they immerse themselves in it for at least several hours, they can't and they won't understand. They'll continue to criminalize what their own species looks like and they'll continue to believe that being naked is something sinister and sexual, when it's not.
We can continue to feel smugly enlightened in the privacy of our homes, at the beaches our friends would never be caught dead at, or in our walled in clubs and resorts they don't know we go to. Or we could reach out. If each of us convinced one other person to try it. Not to go to nude beach and keep their swimming suits on, but to immerse themselves in it for a day, it would make a big difference. They'd start to "get it" and we wouldn't have to be so secretive.
I like being naked because it's more comfortable to be naked. I like that being naked encourages others to do the same, and that their being naked with others makes them feel better about themselves.
We like to talk about nudism, naturism, or whatever label you prefer as if it were a secret technique, an alternative lifestyle, or a learned behavior in itself. It isn't. It's our natural behavior. It's cooked into our DNA to like being human and to like what our own species looks like. It's also our natural social behavior to accept each other's flaws as part of what binds us together as people. That's why it takes so many years to condition children not to be naked, and why, as adults, that conditioning is so easily shaken.
People who have never allowed themselves to experience that freedom view us as curiosities. A little perverted, driven by an exhibitionist streak that we're in denial about. But mostly harmless, as long as they don't have to see it. But with the Internet and the need to fill the 24 hour news cycle, people can't resist the fact that we do exist, and they're puzzled by it.
The trick is o get people to try it. Until they immerse themselves in it for at least several hours, they can't and they won't understand. They'll continue to criminalize what their own species looks like and they'll continue to believe that being naked is something sinister and sexual, when it's not.
We can continue to feel smugly enlightened in the privacy of our homes, at the beaches our friends would never be caught dead at, or in our walled in clubs and resorts they don't know we go to. Or we could reach out. If each of us convinced one other person to try it. Not to go to nude beach and keep their swimming suits on, but to immerse themselves in it for a day, it would make a big difference. They'd start to "get it" and we wouldn't have to be so secretive.
Thursday, May 28, 2015
Your Pix All Over the Net
Source: http://www.wired.com/2015/02/dick-pics/
The author appears to be speaking from a non-nudist perspective about simple nudity becoming so common on the Internet and that people are so much more likely to take and have nude pictures of themselves and others, that running into naked pictures of people that you know is becoming no big deal. I'm not sure we're to that point yet, but I like how he winds up the story saying that we shouldn't be ashamed and embarrassed to be what we simply are.
The author appears to be speaking from a non-nudist perspective about simple nudity becoming so common on the Internet and that people are so much more likely to take and have nude pictures of themselves and others, that running into naked pictures of people that you know is becoming no big deal. I'm not sure we're to that point yet, but I like how he winds up the story saying that we shouldn't be ashamed and embarrassed to be what we simply are.
Compulsively Clothed. Compulsively Naked.
Every workday I come home and immediately remove things that haven't bothered me all day. The minute I step into the house, they have to go. First to go are my shoes and socks. I wear comfortable footwear, but my feet scream to be free the minute I get inside the door. I'm barefoot every minute of every day I can get away with it to the point that I'm usually barefoot when we have guests over, even if we're throwing a party. It's not that I'm not aware that other people might not want to see my bare feet or that it's unfair to them to be wearing shoes when I'm not wearing shoes. It just doesn't dawn on me that anyone should care. It never bothers me when other people are barefoot, even inappropriately so. I'm happy for them.
The next thing that has to go are my contact lenses. Those too, I never notice until I get in the door, then they too, have to go as soon as possible. Next the watch has to go. I don't know why, but all of a sudden, I don't like things strapped around me like that.
As compulsive as I am about those items, I'm not a compulsive nudist. If I'm going to be in and out of the house for a while, I put on shorts and a tee shirt (the default casual attire here in Florida). If it's hot out and I'm working outside, the tee shirt comes off. The heat and humidity most of the year here make keeping a shirt on at times miserably uncomfortable. That's perfectly acceptable here. For a male, anyway. Yes, it's unfair to women and yes, I'd be happy for them and for society if we'd get over it. That's a lot of area to keep covered when it's hot out and what remains (shorts) is small enough to get most of the benefit of being naked, without offending others.
I'm naked at home the way most people wear comfy things they wouldn't walk out on the street wearing. It's my right to be as comfortable as I can be in the privacy of my house and out in my private back yard, where a patio, pool, and hot tub await my wife and I to use naked whenever we want to be there. When I'm naked, I prefer to be completely naked. I'll wear shoes if I have to walk on hot or unfriendly surfaces. A hat, if I must because the sun is beating down on the top of my head. Sunglasses, if the sun is too bright. But nothing, whenever I can get away with it. The only concession I make, is that I never take off my wedding band. That reminds me of the commitment we made to each other and I don't want to take it off.
I don't think I'd be compulsive about being naked even if I lived in a nudist community. Being naked is my default natural state. I don't feel compelled by external conditioning to be nude, it's just the most comfortable natural and easy choice most of the time.
The next thing that has to go are my contact lenses. Those too, I never notice until I get in the door, then they too, have to go as soon as possible. Next the watch has to go. I don't know why, but all of a sudden, I don't like things strapped around me like that.
As compulsive as I am about those items, I'm not a compulsive nudist. If I'm going to be in and out of the house for a while, I put on shorts and a tee shirt (the default casual attire here in Florida). If it's hot out and I'm working outside, the tee shirt comes off. The heat and humidity most of the year here make keeping a shirt on at times miserably uncomfortable. That's perfectly acceptable here. For a male, anyway. Yes, it's unfair to women and yes, I'd be happy for them and for society if we'd get over it. That's a lot of area to keep covered when it's hot out and what remains (shorts) is small enough to get most of the benefit of being naked, without offending others.
I'm naked at home the way most people wear comfy things they wouldn't walk out on the street wearing. It's my right to be as comfortable as I can be in the privacy of my house and out in my private back yard, where a patio, pool, and hot tub await my wife and I to use naked whenever we want to be there. When I'm naked, I prefer to be completely naked. I'll wear shoes if I have to walk on hot or unfriendly surfaces. A hat, if I must because the sun is beating down on the top of my head. Sunglasses, if the sun is too bright. But nothing, whenever I can get away with it. The only concession I make, is that I never take off my wedding band. That reminds me of the commitment we made to each other and I don't want to take it off.
I don't think I'd be compulsive about being naked even if I lived in a nudist community. Being naked is my default natural state. I don't feel compelled by external conditioning to be nude, it's just the most comfortable natural and easy choice most of the time.
Friday, March 6, 2015
The Boundary between Clothed and Naked
My wife's a good sport and last year while on vacation driving around the North West, she let me schedule a down day for us at a small rural nudist club. Like many of the smaller family run clubs, everyone was nude there to the extent the weather allowed them to be, including the owners as they went about the business of running the place.
This year, while driving around southern California, we had an extra day and I suggested that we enjoy another down day relaxing at another resort. This time, she wanted something more upscale, complaining that the last place was like hanging out in someone's back yard. Wanting to make her happy, I researched the possibilities. Though SoCal was experiencing a terrible drought, it was our luck to be there when widespread rain hit. To minimize the impact to our trip, we headed for Palm Springs. Bracketed by two rainy weekends, the Desert Sun Resort there was virtually empty and they dropped their price enough that I booked a night there. The weather while we were there during the week was perfect!
While it doesn't bother me in the least to interact with clothed people when I'm nude, my wife was fascinated with the employees not only being dressed, but impeccably so, appropriate to their duties. The receptionist was dressed as one would expect a receptionist to be. That's not unusual, given that they're the interface to the outside world. But the landscapers and the maintenance people were dressed like landscapers and maintenance people. Worse yet, the housekeeper were impeccably dressed as (gasp!) housekeepers. The place was first class. Beautifully landscaped with top notch rooms and facilities. But my wife couldn't get over the difference between "us" and "them" to the point that she wondered what "they" thought of "us". She even asked a few of them what they thought (as one should expect when asked by a stranger, they said they were happy to be working there).
I've been to several "clothing optional" places where a good percent of people there are clothed. I understand that some people find that easier to deal with at first, but people being the social animals that they are, are most comfortable when everyone's on the same level. One of the upscale places I often go to isn't CO, but the employees at their fancy restaurant are dressed as they would be in fancy restaurants elsewhere, even if everyone being served is comfortably nude. As odd and hypocritical as that seems to me, it doesn't bother me. But it would bother my wife who would see those clothed as being "them", separated and different, from "us".
That blows my mind. I think of clothed people as being naked people covered up. Clothed people think of us as being somehow "different" than they are. We aren't. We're just not hung up as much as they are about having to hide ourselves from each other.
This year, while driving around southern California, we had an extra day and I suggested that we enjoy another down day relaxing at another resort. This time, she wanted something more upscale, complaining that the last place was like hanging out in someone's back yard. Wanting to make her happy, I researched the possibilities. Though SoCal was experiencing a terrible drought, it was our luck to be there when widespread rain hit. To minimize the impact to our trip, we headed for Palm Springs. Bracketed by two rainy weekends, the Desert Sun Resort there was virtually empty and they dropped their price enough that I booked a night there. The weather while we were there during the week was perfect!
While it doesn't bother me in the least to interact with clothed people when I'm nude, my wife was fascinated with the employees not only being dressed, but impeccably so, appropriate to their duties. The receptionist was dressed as one would expect a receptionist to be. That's not unusual, given that they're the interface to the outside world. But the landscapers and the maintenance people were dressed like landscapers and maintenance people. Worse yet, the housekeeper were impeccably dressed as (gasp!) housekeepers. The place was first class. Beautifully landscaped with top notch rooms and facilities. But my wife couldn't get over the difference between "us" and "them" to the point that she wondered what "they" thought of "us". She even asked a few of them what they thought (as one should expect when asked by a stranger, they said they were happy to be working there).
I've been to several "clothing optional" places where a good percent of people there are clothed. I understand that some people find that easier to deal with at first, but people being the social animals that they are, are most comfortable when everyone's on the same level. One of the upscale places I often go to isn't CO, but the employees at their fancy restaurant are dressed as they would be in fancy restaurants elsewhere, even if everyone being served is comfortably nude. As odd and hypocritical as that seems to me, it doesn't bother me. But it would bother my wife who would see those clothed as being "them", separated and different, from "us".
That blows my mind. I think of clothed people as being naked people covered up. Clothed people think of us as being somehow "different" than they are. We aren't. We're just not hung up as much as they are about having to hide ourselves from each other.
OK... I'm weird.
I admit that I'm weird. I was born with "the knack". Or as some would say, "the curse". This video explains it:
http://www.dailymotion.com/video/xto41p_dilbert-the-knack_fun
The video hits a bit too close to home. My parents weren't technical people. None of my family was. Yet even as a young boy I was insatiably curious about how things work. When it came to anything having to do with science, math, or later engineering, I couldn't stop myself. Yes, I took things apart. Yes, I asked millions of questions. And yes (hanging my head in shame), like Dilbert, I tore apart TVs and radios and made ham radios out of them before I was 12. Even as an adult working as an RF (radio frequency) engineer, I kept taking PhD level courses in advanced mathematics, quantum mechanics, and various different sciences and engineering disciplines.
My curiosity wasn't limited to just "things". I needed to understand what makes people tick. To that end, I minored in sociology and psychology. I was the top student in those classes, and my professors were extremely disappointed when they found out that I was an engineering major.
I learned early on that rationalizing human behavior was, and is, a waste of time. The question of why people can't just be naked around each other nagged me as a kid. But I knew my mother would tell me "because that's the way it is", which would have driven me crazy. I eventually realized that people are conditioned by their environment, their culture, their beliefs, and their families to be what they are and to feel what they feel about things. Most people aren't interested in objectively understanding their behaviors. And most people aren't interested in what their natural unconditioned behaviors are, or would be.
I believe that accepting what we are and what we look like is, in fact, natural social behavior that we've forsaken to our own peril. That being ashamed or embarrassed to what we are, is stupid. And that to be offended by what other people simply are, is mean. We evolved (or were designed to be) not only compatible with our environment, but to thrive in that environment, without the need, or the desire, to be clothed. Clothing was an adaptation to our foolishly leaving the climate range our bodies were intended for. And we've since become a prisoner of that adaptation.
http://www.dailymotion.com/video/xto41p_dilbert-the-knack_fun
The video hits a bit too close to home. My parents weren't technical people. None of my family was. Yet even as a young boy I was insatiably curious about how things work. When it came to anything having to do with science, math, or later engineering, I couldn't stop myself. Yes, I took things apart. Yes, I asked millions of questions. And yes (hanging my head in shame), like Dilbert, I tore apart TVs and radios and made ham radios out of them before I was 12. Even as an adult working as an RF (radio frequency) engineer, I kept taking PhD level courses in advanced mathematics, quantum mechanics, and various different sciences and engineering disciplines.
My curiosity wasn't limited to just "things". I needed to understand what makes people tick. To that end, I minored in sociology and psychology. I was the top student in those classes, and my professors were extremely disappointed when they found out that I was an engineering major.
I learned early on that rationalizing human behavior was, and is, a waste of time. The question of why people can't just be naked around each other nagged me as a kid. But I knew my mother would tell me "because that's the way it is", which would have driven me crazy. I eventually realized that people are conditioned by their environment, their culture, their beliefs, and their families to be what they are and to feel what they feel about things. Most people aren't interested in objectively understanding their behaviors. And most people aren't interested in what their natural unconditioned behaviors are, or would be.
I believe that accepting what we are and what we look like is, in fact, natural social behavior that we've forsaken to our own peril. That being ashamed or embarrassed to what we are, is stupid. And that to be offended by what other people simply are, is mean. We evolved (or were designed to be) not only compatible with our environment, but to thrive in that environment, without the need, or the desire, to be clothed. Clothing was an adaptation to our foolishly leaving the climate range our bodies were intended for. And we've since become a prisoner of that adaptation.
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