On the joy of being naked
Nudity is permitted beyond this point.

Absence of clothes

Paul, nude in the woods
We all know how good it is to be clothes-free. Nude. Naked. Uncovered. Name it what you want.

During the past heat wave here in the Netherlands, which lasted quite a long time, my mind kept going around this simple delight. Not wearing clothes.

A while ago, on a social media platform, there was a bit of a discussion about the feeling of freedom that comes with being uncovered, and if someone was entirely oblivious of the state of being naked. I kept thinking about that, and also I "analysed" the feeling, as far as I can do that.

What I think I've found:

Without stuff around me, my body is mine.

Clothes are designed and made by someone else. No matter how much care I would take in selecting something, it's always something thought up by another person. It might be a wonderful and kind person, but... someone else.

No one can copy my body and sell that (for now at least).

Without stuff around me, my sensation of the world is pure.

This is something which came to me after I had to walk around in clothes again for a while. Clothes rob me of my feeling of the world. Even the world in my house. I touch something with an arm or a leg, and theΒ reality isn't there. It's blocked, muffled, suffocated.

Paul at home, watching Television
Sitting on the couch, watching TV, I feel the world around me. I feel the couch, the floor, the air around me. I feel my own skin too (arm on knee, for instance).

In a way, this resembles a spiritual awareness or state of being. I'd never thought of it that way before, but it's true for me.

With clothes on, all that is gone or distorted. I'm now almost constantly surprised I didn't notice that before. Now I know, and I keep noticing. That's probably going to fade (I hope), but the awareness of it is surprising.

I wonder if any of you ever experienced anything like this.