Monthly Archives: March 2022

Gymno-feminism: Liberation for Us All

Is common bodily modesty sexist, or even misogynistic? I’d say so. Can a woman not be truly free of patriarchy, until she is free of the traps of clothing? I’d say so.

But, who am I to speak for women? Can I really understand? Shouldn’t this be written by a woman?  I think that I can speak to this because as a man, I also can’t be free, until I’m free of our societal situation.  That being okay, still, I’ll extensively quote some women throughout this article, as I make my case.

Let’s look at the inside first, body shame. We are pressured into living up to unreasonable bodily ideals. From young to aging, people are subjected to fashionable impositions. It changes, but our body types won’t always agree with those changes. People starve, suffer social insecurities, and lie to themselves and others. We are told that we are flawed. We are manipulated into clothing that will make us look something other than what we are.

We are sexualized, something that has its place, but this overused imposition confines the identity to within limits, and with that, it limits personal potential. We are reduced, corralled and channeled into living life as someone else’s object. People get dressed to support that fantasy. People also dress to diminish objectification. Our other abilities, our other humanity, our inter-relationships are constantly tainted with this. People tease, fish, manipulate and game within this context. We are more than that. We can’t be equal, if we have to be so separated by sexual concerns and inhibitions.  

The trap of gender roles is rampant. Dress, the uniform of conformity, plays a big part. Be it power garb, masculine superiority, a female’s place, or inequality, gender determines “who wears the pants,” a term that comes directly from this kind of culture.

Things have changed. Here’s evidence, but still, what remains?

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Nude Across America Pt.23 Leelanua Peninsula

2021-07-12

Just so you know…Part 24, Lake Shelbyville, was published out of sequence, by the fingers of a sleepy naked guy on a couch. Once it is done….

We’re looking for a secluded place, a spiritual experience, fewer people, certainly no crowds, solitude. I figured that it would be up here in this part of Michigan, as I remember it. It feels down right crowded today, in the height of the summer season. Things have changed. There is plenty of countryside, but it is all private lands. People are packed in otherwise.

The public lands are near. Big Bear Dunes, again as I remember, are fun and there may be a spot just south of them, down the coast of Lake Michigan, where people don’t go, much.

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Thanks Given for the Key

When I contemplate peace, I feel my oneness with all I know and beyond. There is that quiet strength that it gives me. When I see a tranquil lake, a gorgeous sunset, or a mountain stream, smell a familiar scent, or hear the wings of a passing bird, I know that.

A vista, or the array of stars will put within me awareness of my sense of the vast identity that I share, I know that strength. When I feel the air and the sun across my nude body, my feet upon the Earth the energetic or reassuring touch of another, that body knows thanks.  I can feel thanks in this body, more than to just think it, or to list it in the mind. The beauty around me and within me, that which I am, is the gratitude and oneness.

Feeling peaceful, I am relaxed and calm. I glow from within and feel serenity in my soul. I breathe easier, remain positive and always feel thanks. I am mindful of my place in the universe and the difference that I make in this world. I am a spiritual being in this body, sharing my unique energy and talents.

I can travel far to grasp the magnificent experiences, or I can walk naked where I am, at any given moment, to realize my being and my peace.

There is inspiration by the beauty of creation to know calm and strength through oneness.

I am truly blessed.

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Nude Across America Pt.24 Lake Shelbyville

2021-07-13

We are here in  Northern Michigan after fleeing a rainstorm that arrived hours early, chasing us out of Turtle Lake Resort.  This morning, we’re in a family campground and I suspect from the sound on the roof of the tent, that the Michigan forecast is wrong again.  The rain due at 2pm is apparently arriving at 6:30am.

I whisper, “It might just blow over. It’s not due ‘till this afternoon.” I’m thinking from under my comfy sleeping quilt cuddled with DF. I’m tired and I want to sleep in. That sound on the tent is a drizzle, but we’ve also heard that before in Ohio and Northern Vermont. We certainly want to avoid a wet tent to pack into the tightly crammed trunk, soaking everything and maybe creating mold.

We get out and quickly, perform our well-practiced routine, tearing the camp down safely and tucking it away. All during the process, the rain intensifies.  We’ll be leaving for Lake Shelbyville a little earlier than planned.

 

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