by Nat Brown

One of the "aha! moments" of my life took place years ago when I took my ski team over to the house of one of the skiers for a pool party. The boy’s parents were Norwegians, and the pool had a sauna next to it. The Norwegian boy set an example of taking his sauna nude – nothing new to me even then – but afterwards led the team – all boys - out to the pool to swim naked. I joined in, but after a while I started to feel tired, so I sat at the edge of the pool with my feet in the water and watched the guys. After a few minutes the Norwegian boy’s mother came out to the pool area and sat down beside me and began to talk. I was a little disconcerted at first, but soon realized that this was normal for her, and so why should it worry me? We talked for several minutes, and I forget whether she left or I did – but afterwards I was struck by the complete naturalness of the moment. It has stuck in my mind ever since as one of those shining moments when something which afterwards seems so obvious, bursts into light: why do we bother to wear clothes in some situations? I will never forget how free I felt after talking to John’s mother, as if a load had slipped off my back.

This last fall we took a cruise in the Adriatic, along the northern coast of Croatia. Speedos were the uniform much of the time, and the one girl on the boat was often topless, and even swam ashore to sunbathe in the nude. We showered naked on the deck of the boat, and for me, it was always disappointing to have to put trunks on again – so close to living simply and naturally! Other boats would put into the out-of-the way arbors we visited, their whole crew – a family – nude, and one family rowed ashore nude and set off to explore the beach and some caves – nude. I was so envious: if only I could be so nonchalant and natural. What a gift to the kids, to grow up without being ashamed of their bodies! This simplicity and total naturalness is the first element of true freedom that I find in naturism.

Later, after the cruise, we spent a week at Koversada, one of the world’s largest nudist resorts, with some 300 acres and a capacity of 3,000+ guests. This was the first time I had ever been consistently nude outdoors and in a social setting. We came away feeling that we had established a new relationship with our bodies, a much more natural and accepting one. It was a feeling of harmony and rightness – one that I want to bring into my life much more.

Think of it, why hide our bodies? Our bodies are the real us, as much as our minds and opinions. If not more so: so many of our attitudes are second-hand, culturally inherited ones, and as such, often unexamined and useless or even harmful. In naturism on the other hand, there is a naturalness and honesty that I want to make part of my life. Recently, when I mentioned naturism to a friend, he said that he too, would like to experience that kind of freedom, and this has lead me to try to formulate what naturism/nudism means for me.

(Let me define some terms: to me, "nudism" means doing things nude; "naturism" means nudism, plus a philosophy of relating more closely to the environment and to nature. The terms are usually used interchangeably, but I like to make the distinction).

I’ve been thinking a lot about what kind of freedom naturism represents, and why it means so much to me. Here’s an attempt at working out an answer. 

I want to live as well as I can, and as deeply. In Thoreau’s words, I want to "suck the marrow out of life," and I want to get rid of the excess baggage that keeps me from doing this as fully as I can. To a large extent, I am finding that one very good path toward this fuller life is naturism. I want to work out a way to live as much as possible like this.

It seems to me that one secret of a successful life is to work toward freedom. "The truth will set you free." Only truth, rigorously pursued, will bring true freedom, and by freedom I mean most truly being as a fully realized creation. Being less than fully realized is the opposite of freedom – we are, in one sense, "born to be free."

What part of that freedom does naturism lead to?

Freedom from useless societal restraints. Not all societal restraints are a bad thing, but clothes-compulsion is one of the more useless ones, and many societies have had very different ideas as to what comprises modesty: toplessness is accepted in many "primitive" societies. Nudity was common and accepted, even required in some circumstances in Greece and Egypt. People who live in hot climates have always had a very relaxed attitude towards nudity, even in modern times. Other societies have defined "nudity" in very different ways: in Japan the back of the neck is extremely sexy, and when my grandfather was young, a woman’s ankles were way out there. To us today, athis seems very strange. It is learned behavior, not necessary behavior, and thus not free. Going naked simply feels like a huge burden off your back in terms of expectations and taboos – which is good for your psychological health. It’s also more
comfortable!

I remember the first time I ever experienced this kind of freedom: I was in college, and the group of people I had gone through high-school with used to have parties over at a friend’s "farm" on Hood Canal. Late one morning a friend of mine and I wandered down to the beach and decided to go for a swim. Having no swimming trunks and no one being in the area, we naturally went skinny dipping. Presently one of the girls in the group came down to the beach and sat down to watch us swim. When we were done swimming, Bart, my friend, simply walked out of the water and up to the girl and started talking, so I followed. We must have stood there talking for ten minutes or so – naked all the time. It was elating! Before, I never knew I could do such a thing. Afterwards, it simply felt to natural and so free of any restraints. This marked my first realization of what a natural and health-giving thing social nudity could be.

But I think it goes deeper, and into much healthier reasons. For my part, I’m trying to get more real as I get older, to get rid of illusions, even ones about myself. Clothes are illusions: they make you look different than you are, feel different, put up fronts. They can cover up all sorts of things, and while clothes are obviously needed at times (cold weather, frying bacon… ) and fun at others (I love to get all dressed up in when I’m in a city such as London) they present something that is not real, in the sense of "natural". What clothes allow is an "outwards pretension." They are, in short, status symbols ("I’ve got the latest Nikes, so I am a cooler person…" ). 

But I think the inner pretension is worse and more dangerous: clothes let us pretend to ourselves that we are other than we are. They allow us to feel we are important, or wise, or athletic, etc. Illusions are not a good thing to build a self-image on. Reality, on the other hand, is a rock that will carry a lot of weight and weather well. Clothes alienate us from ourselves: you are a body. Naked, you are you. It is very healthy to recognize yourself for what you are, and be the real you. It is more honest, and because it is more honest, it is more healthy. This is the body God gave me. It seems silly to hide it. Sillier still for anyone who enjoys physical sports.

Largely because of this honesty, people who are naked in social settings are just plain more friendly, less pretentious. I am not alone in finding people at naturist resorts to be more friendly and open, and far less given to the pretenses of social orders. It is much easier to make friends among naturists, because you inter-relate more honestly and openly in the absence of the artificial barriers that clothes can be.

Clothes alienate us from nature. It is truly wonderful to feel sun and wind and water all over our bodies, and in places where we have never experienced the natural sensations of feeling the air and the sun. Who needs to sit around in wet trunks? I remember my first time at a naturist resort. I was walking on a woodland path and it suddenly struck me that "I’m out doors, in nature, NAKED!" It is hard to put into words how wonderful and free a sensation this was, and how absolutely right it felt. We are, in modern society, far too cut off from nature: we are surrounded by concrete, buildings, clothes, and artificial climates and smells. We need contact with nature and reality. This is why so many people go out into the mountains of go sailing of even simply walking in the part. It is healthy and in touch with the real and the natural – for no matter how we separate ourselves from nature, we are, in fact, part of it. Growing awareness of the dangers of pollution underline this. In being naked out doors you are part of nature again, and in ways that it is impossible to be when you are clothed. Being naked in nature is almost, for me, an act of worship; it is certainly a very joyous one.

Finally, there is beauty: the human body is, quite simply, beautiful. To be ashamed of this beauty seems to me to be a very great sin, to hide it a denial of a wonderful gift as ungrateful as not taking care of it.

If I could, I’d live nude. I try to, within practical restrictions. And I try not to embarrass others. It takes some doing to get rid of shame issues, but I think it can be done. It’s more useless baggage I’d like to get rid of. Living naked strikes me has being honest, natural, even honorable. I intend to work on it.