The part of me that refused to be killed

I rode my bike across a stream. I used to get off the bike and push to the other side, because I thought I would fall over. But I managed to stay on the bike, defying my previous expectations. On my return trip my bike swirled in the mud of the stream and I had to stop and get off, but I didn't fall over. I managed to maintain balance, stepping into the stream with my bare foot, something that would be very uncomfortable with shoes on.

Why I chose a barefoot lifestyle?

I have asked the question from the title to myself several times over the past several months, always with the genuine desire to know the answer. Then in a single moment - I do not remember what it was - it just popped into my head.

Therapeutic vulnerability

Clothes tend to hide [our posture] and instead impose an image of how the position we occupy is viewed by society, thus diminishing the person that occupies it. Clothes are in most cases a lie draped over our bodies; a lie we ought to wear to protect people from recognizing - from our posture and other forms of non-verbal communication which the clothes hide - how miserable we truly are underneath that expensive designer suit, or dress.

3 branches of nudity: the sex, the hunt and the vulnerability

I find that I am even now in a similarly vulnerable position as I write publicly about some of the things that I have kept hidden for so long from everyone, from my parents, from my friends, from my own wife, from the world in general and even from myself. But I also find that without exposing this vulnerability I am unable to move on.

Dark ages

"I'd never trust a fully clothed waiter [...] Who knows how long he'd been wearing all those clothes, let alone where he'd been with them."


Most of the time you don't need [clothes ...]. Yet you're willing to spend sometimes even much more than an hour of your life on a single garment. [... There] is this fear that is present today, where people think that they absolutely need to be wearing some clothes, but that is an irrational fear. It's fear of being ridiculed, or judged by others.

A practical idea

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.

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