When was the last time you got naked with yourself?
Not naked with someone else, such as in sexuality.
Not naked at a wild and crazy festival where this is sometimes common.
Not naked in nature, where there’s no one around.
Just you, naked.
Not paying any particular attention to being naked.
Not involved in any big naked activity.
Just you, not wearing any clothes.
Nowadays, we aren’t naked very often.
Unless you’re in a warm climate or maybe have a beach lifestyle, most of us keep a steady pace from shower to towel to clothing: it’s not that we mind being naked, it’s just that it’s our habit to put on clothes quickly.
Maybe we have to get to work.
Maybe there are others in the house.
Maybe it just doesn’t feel right.
Maybe we’re not comfortable in our bodies.
And this idea of not being comfortable in our bodies, of not being comfortable in our own skin.
Why, this is very skin we are born with, the skin that covers our organs and muscle and blood, the skin that has expanded from baby to our current size and been our boundary, our living protector of inside from outside, our whole lives.
Being naked isn’t some crazy weird thing you do with body paint at Burning Man. It’s your body, without one vestige of cultural conditioning upon it. It’s your body, as you were born.
Accepting our bodies is one of the ways we accept ourselves.
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