A practical idea


, , , ,

I’m sitting at a cafe right now, trapped by a thunderstorm and heavy rain. I left my umbrella in the car, but I don’t think it would do me much good either way. So as I’m thinking about ordering some hot chocolate and using this time to work, I get this rather neat idea.

I have no problem with the cold or the rain. In fact, even in this dreadful weather I’m sitting in this cafe barefoot and in my normal summer attire (though I do admit I was caught off-guard by this rain). The only reason I’m trapped here is because I don’t want to get wet. If I get wet it will take me a long time to dry. Having wet clothes sticking onto my skin is very uncomfortable. However…

What if I had no wet clothes sticking onto my wet skin?

I could take all my clothes off, stuff them into a waterproof bag I have with me, then run across the park in the rain to my car. Upon reaching the car I could take the umbrella out of the trunk and throw it on the back seat of the car, jump into the driver’s seat, turn the car on, turn up the heating, dry off, then put my clothes back on. Taking the umbrella with me I could then slip out of the car and walk the remaining short distance to work without getting too wet.

But alas, that is not the kind of society we live in. Many practical things are frowned upon if they break social convention. Going completely naked in public, even in this weather where no part of the public actually is in public places, would probably get me in jail – if not immediately, then after someone files a report of some sort. Even if in some convoluted scenario going naked would save my life, it would still be frowned upon.

I’m an atheist, but… God forbid that someone should see a human being.

So here I am, trapped. The situation is somewhere between symbolism and analogy, really. The clothes make me feel trapped when I wear them. Now I’m trapped in this place because of them. The rain is still falling. And here comes my hot chocolate.


The time of the fireflies


, , , ,

I stand on the crossroads of my life. I will not bore you with the details of where each path goes, however. It is not what I wish to say here. Instead, I wish to share with you the way I prepare myself for the choice and the path ahead, for wherever I turn it is going to be difficult.

I walk barefoot. I don’t remember the last time I put on shoes. I believe it was when I attended a wedding. Living a barefoot lifestyle is energizing all in itself. By the mere act of adopting it I have taught myself to not be ashamed of my choices, to assert myself and my own ways of thinking, and to stop and learn instead of blush in shame and hide in a hole when I find that my way of thinking is inadequate in certain situations. To walk barefoot among the shod makes me feel in control of myself and my life.

But this is not enough for my current predicament.

Back when I used to wear shoes every day, the way I’d recharge my batteries was by taking a long walk. I’d go and walk a huge distance, sometimes of over 20 km, in a single night. At first my mind would wander. Then it would stop wandering because it had wandered in every possible direction. And then I would focus. I’d forget where I was going and my legs would just take me places while my head was headed straight for a solution. Normally I’d come back home so tired I’d simply crash out, but I’d wake up with a solution to whatever was bugging me.

This time it’s different. I have paths to take and it’s clear where each path would take me. I can see clearly the consequences of each path, and although there is in places a possibility of severe consequences, there is nothing I couldn’t handle. I know it. But I know also that to walk the path I had already chosen, I need to get my mind off of things for just one moment.

It has been a long time since I wrote my last post, owing to the fact that I’d become a father and it’s been more work than I anticipated. But it wasn’t the fatherhood that was difficult. It was … many other things.

A firefly is a curious thing. It barely illuminates anything, yet it is such joy to see one in the midst of darkness. You can feel as if it would guide you through it, but really it just goes on its merry way. I saw at least three as I was taking off my clothes in the woods at dusk. It was to be a walk on the more secluded paths in the forests of my home village. I was hoping to exit the forest at the lake by nightfall, then proceed to the other side of the lake and towards a neighboring village, where I’d be putting my clothes back on before entering it. It would be about an hour of walking naked.

Nudity is also energizing, though not in the same way as being barefoot. Nudity in public is a taboo – one that, thankfully, some small groups of people do not share – so I don’t practice it, except in those small groups. Nudity is often related to the feelings of freedom and simplicity, but also to frailty. All creatures are born naked and few things are as fragile as new life. Yet I find strength within it, especially when faced with the elements.

And so I tuck the modest clothes I had chosen to wear into my satchel and I continue barefoot and naked – except for the satchel and my wedding ring – down the path into the ever darker forest. I see fireflies in the grass and in the bushes. Others are flying freely before they surely tumble down once I pass them by. It was quite dark when I exited the forest onto the first of three meadows I was to cross before I finally clear the woods. The path through the next patch of woods was muddy and slippery, but I managed to get through.

On the very exit of the woods, there were two huge puddles of water over the entire road. I don’t like walking barefoot over puddles in the woods. As nice as it feels, there’s always a chance for something nasty to be lodged in the mud, that could cut my feet, or worse. These places are basically breeding grounds for fungal spores, bacteria and such, so walking over them with a wound on my feet would be crazy.

So I tread carefully. Test the bottom with my foot before placing my weight on it, rinse and repeat with the other foot, until I’m out of the puddle. And voilla, I’m out of the woods. I pass the spooky old ruin of a house and turn left on the gravel road leading toward the lake.

Sometimes when I walk like this I like to put my things away in a safe place somewhere. That place I then call my “stash”. The problem with the stash – aside from the incredibly unlikely event of someone stumbling upon it in the middle of the night and taking my clothes and the key to my home – is that I need to get back to it to retrieve it. That’s fine if I plan to return the same way that I got there, but that wasn’t my plan today.

I don’t plan to ever return to my crossroad, but I do plan to return “home”, wherever it may be.

So, this time, I don’t stash and I keep my satchel on me at all times. Some time later I’m walking on a path I thought I knew, but which has changed significantly. Trees have grown considerably here since the last time I walked this way. It’s almost like a completely new place. And then the path turns uphill and at the top I can see the village.

I turn around and I see light in the woods. It’s my old friend’s father’s shack that’s lit, hidden nicely away from the rest of the world. We used to celebrate his birthdays there and I remember the last time I was there I left his shack, took my clothes off at the gate and continued home naked. I don’t go there now because even though I can see it, it’s quite a long way off, and in the wrong direction. That’s not where I go from my crossroad. I go towards my fireflies.

I approach the village naked. As close as I can without risking being seen. I don’t think anyone would raise ruckus over it as long as the children are not around (they should be sleeping anyway, it’s now past 11pm), but I really don’t need a distraction and an energy drain of this sort right now. I drop my satchel on the ground, take my clothes out and continue as if I hadn’t done anything out of the ordinary.

I like being out of the ordinary. It’s daring and exciting and dangerous. Being ordinary is safe and boring and … well … ordinary. One can learn a lot by choosing to be unordinary, which he would otherwise not learn.

I now walk on the road I hadn’t walked in a long time. Five new homes have been built there since the time I last took the time to notice. I walk through the village and I’m back in the woods. Only this time on asphalt. As boring as asphalt feels to bare feet, it is a welcome relief from the difficult and – in the darkness – invisible terrain in the woods and around the lake.

Fireflies are there again. I hold one in the palm of my hand and I feel how fragile it is. I carry it for some time. It illuminates a small area around itself as I set it down gently. And I know that the path I have chosen on my crossroad is right, for all I need to do is follow my fireflies – my beloved wife, my wonderful son, and whoever is meeting us around the beginning of December this year. They are the joyful creatures that I like seeing in the darkness of the sea of all the wrong choices. I would just as well hold them in the palm of my hand to keep them from harm looming from the other paths of my crossroad.



, ,

When I first heard of geocaching I was puzzled about why I haven’t heard about it before. I used to play Ingress and found it rather dull because it meant frequenting the same uninteresting locations over and over, and one of the main reasons I quit was because I never liked walking on the same path too often. Once was a thrill, twice was alright, but three times was a nuisance, especially if it was on the same day. Continue reading

Barefoot as a lifestyle


, ,

One of the things that never struck me as odd was the fact that many nudists – my past self included – rarely remove footwear. Even Stephen Gough – the Naked Rambler – used to walk around in massive hiking shoes. Now, you could argue many points against going barefoot and you’d probably be right at least in part. However, now that I’ve discovered the joys of going barefoot – my initial injury notwithstanding (!) – and now that I’ve discovered how to go about barefoot and stay safe from injuries – I can’t but feel puzzled about why I never went barefoot while I was naked in public (at nude beaches, camps and such). Continue reading

What’s a nudist without a nudist beach?


, , , ,

The summer trip to the sea is finally over. Yes, finally. Can you imagine being on an island – that is – a chunk of land surrounded by the sea – with no beaches allowing nude swimming? It’s like being at the cinema and being required to look at the floor instead of the screen, allowing you only to hear the movie. Continue reading

Naked in the rain


, , , , ,

Lately I’ve been missing being naked anywhere other than my house. Yes, I’ve been exploring and experimenting with being barefoot and I’ve even joined SBL, but I’ve been restricting nudity to indoors only. Some of this is due to me becoming a dad and having no time to get outside, but mainly it’s because someone would cause a nasty scene if I were to appear outside naked in broad daylight. I do, after all, spend a lot of time outside, except I’m clothed.

So I only get to be naked outside after nightfall, when my wife and son are both tucked in and after I put the diapers in the washing machine and the dishes in the dishwasher. Even then I often pass the pleasure because I’m usually so tired I could easily put diapers in the dishwasher, or just put everything altogether in the drier and be none the wiser about what I’ve done until morning when I’ll be needing my largest cup for my daily dose of caffeine. Continue reading

A den of hungry lions


, , , , ,

I’ve realized recently something about myself. There was a party and I separated from the main event with my wife and some of my friends. I used that moment to take off my shoes and be barefoot for a while. My wife and most of my friends know about me going barefoot (it was pretty difficult to hide after the injury and besides, I realized that there’s no point in hiding it), so there were no objections. Continue reading

Fama volat


, , , , , , , ,

So there I was sawing some wood the other day to make a couple more raised beds. Because of the chill, I wore sweatpants. Otherwise I would have worn shorts. I was – as I usually am in our garden – barefoot and shirtless.

A couple of days later, my wife comes to me and asks me why I’m gardening naked for all the world to see. Continue reading

Naked gardening


, , , , , , , ,

I bet little beats the feeling of tilling the earth (with respect to the concept of no-till gardening) naked. Ever since my wife and I started our garden, spring has been for me the best time of year to get my base tan, without wasting my time just frying in the Sun, or my money on tanning salons.

Of course, there’s a little drawback to getting my base tan purely from gardening, as that way I mostly only tan my shoulders, the back of my neck, my back, arms, and a portion of my legs. This leaves me with the most problematic area in terms of tanning – my torso – looking like cheese. But, I suppose, tanning half my body on the deck chair is faster and more comfortable than tanning my whole body on a beach towel. Continue reading

Testing whether Kiniki tan-through swimwear is not also see-through


, , , , ,

It took a little courage to appear in non-nudist public environment wearing nothing but Topaz Tan Through Swim Micro swimming trunks from Kiniki. I must say I was a bit worried when it first arrived as I took it out of the wrapper and noticed that I can clearly see through them. But first, a little back-story.

There is only one reason why I am interested in Kiniki tan-through swimwear. There are no good nudist beaches around the place where we normally go for a vacation. There are beaches where one can toss clothes away and enjoy the sun properly, but these beaches are very dirty. There is smelly junk everywhere, wasps are constantly flying by and it’s impossible to relax. Moreover, locals usually come by boat, they drop anchor nearby, they have boat picnics and throw junk and leftover food in the sea. Continue reading