Ordinary Tasks Are Better Naked

I have been enjoying a rare stretch of multiple days without having to put on any clothing beyond bedroom slippers and socks. I am feeling fully human for the first time in many weeks. I am off work until late January, so I am taking every possible moment to be clothes-free.

The heavy house-cleaning is so much easier without the restrictions of conventional clothing, and it is certainly producing a distinct decline in dirty laundry. As that is my least favorite chore, I will enjoy the respite as much as I enjoy being naked.

My mood is lighter as well, even though I have Seasonal Affective Disorder, which gets worse with the shorter days and earlier darkness, and being naked triples the pleasant feelings of both being myself and being free of constraints for at least a few hours at a time. I have even taken to tallying the number of hours each day that I am without clothes, and currently I seem to only require clothing 3-4 hours per day (usually when required to take the trash out and retrieve the cans from the curb, and to step out the front door to get the mail or the UPS deliveries.) I'll be interested to see the total hours at the end of the 42 day winter break.

I will be getting back to the history of nudism soon enough, but felt the need to let my few readers know that I am still alive and happily naked as many hours per day as possible.

A Naked Loss of Freedom

I find myself writing less and less recently about nudists and history...because, once religion took hold, being naked became a pagan thing to be reviled rather than reveled in. Yet, I find myself teaching listless atudents about the development of civilization and having to leave out how false modesty and many-layered clothing became the (physically uncomfortable) norm.

So, in the few free hours of this past semester, I found myself pondering the loss of the freedom to be naked in any non-sexual situation. I think it hinges on when religion became "organized"...and social control of human interactions instituted rules covering evry possible enjoyable aspect of life between birth and death. It is also when forcible rape, pedophilia, and sexual harassment came into fashion for those who could not "control their urges" in the acceptable religious fashion. Women's bodies became a mystery, and our natural cycles were something to be feared rather than worshipped as part of our renewable strength and our ability to birth new generations. The Elders of the various sects chose to segregate us and declare us unclean in order to consolidate their own control of power within the community.

I think this is why I spend as much time as possible wearing nothing but a smile at home. It is my free moments stolen from a repressive society which would happily regress us all to the ultimate historical power of forced slavery and silent women. So, while I teach the history of world civilizations and the supposed perfection of western European societal systems, I quietly rebel at every opportunity by shedding my clothing and allowing my skin to breathe, uncorking my stifled creativity, and revelling in being naked before my gods...even as I stay inside my home, with the blinds and shades drawn against a hostile world.

Sometimes, instead of painting on canvas or paper, I apply my brush and colors to my own body, highlighting the soft spots of breasts and nipples, the birth hollow, and even the "font of life", with vines and flowers before standing at my altar and thanking the Goddess for giving me these beautiful parts, even though I am cut off from the light of Luna Moon by the strict conventions of the society I live in.

Instead, I quietly pray many times a day for the chance to revel naked in nature, to worship the sun and the moon with my whole body bathed in their light...just so my starving soul could be fed on their beautiful energy.