The sun is out with sporadic clouds passing by as I continue working on my writing in the garden. It’s a good day for writing skyclad – not too hot nor not too cool. The writing of my story from 1971 to the present now covers more than sixty thousand words and has just begun to look at 2014, a very difficult year in which my identity as a naturist, even as a man, is challenged by both the inner and outer world. As a result, the writing has slowed down so that I can take care with my words. I resist as best I can, being reactive rather than consciously aware of what was happening.
If you check the archives of this site you will see a gap of three months, the time I spent in Mexico at the beginning of 2014. It was as if I was denying naturism and my role in that world. I was trying to twist myself into a more acceptable version of myself, one that would more easily be in relationship with those closest to me, and the world in general. I still struggle with how I can be in my world and be a naturist at the same time. I already knew that being nude, especially in nature was therapeutic for me. Yet, I began to doubt that this was a therapy that I truly needed, that perhaps there was a better way to be mentally well. I had tried counselling, psychological analysis, meditation, Buddhism, and so many more therapeutic modes for more than twenty years without being able to achieve the level of inner peace that I had found in nude therapy. But perhaps there was something I had missed along the way, perhaps I had not tried hard enough.
So, today, I find myself again asking these same questions as I examine my passage through that period of time. In trying to reach a reasonable conclusion I am left to tell the whole story and then see what the evidence before me is trying to tell me in response. I need to know who and what I am. Those around me need to know as well; they need to know the who, the what, and the why of my relationship to naturism. Only then can they realign themselves with who I am authentically rather than some distorted and lived lie of who I am.