The Skinny on Dipping

This past Saturday was "Skinny Dip Day", which - as I understand it - occurs on the second Saturday in July. I was not able to participate (personally, I'd choose a weekday for an activity like this), but I've more than made up for it on any number of other occasions already this year. However, while camping this weekend, I did end up hiking through an unexpected rain shower, and later paid an impromptu visit to a "swimming hole". And it's given me some food for thought. Now, I'm torn between the desire to broadcast my observations to everyone I know, and the fear of how it would reflect on me, complaining about how "unfair" it is that I can't walk around naked in front of other people, instead of appreciating the good times I undoubtedly had.

Since you're reading this here, you know which side won out in the end. That's just not the person I want to be seen as. On the one hand, I'm dissatisfied with the way our culture approaches the human body. I want to change the world. And I know I can't do that unless I speak out, and raise a fuss. But I am not the pivot upon which the world rotates. What little sway I have among my inner circle I wield zealously, but progress is a slow drip. And I have much to lose from a potential misunderstanding, if I press too firmly on a subject that is notorious for being misinterpreted. It's a tight rope to walk, being a counterculture revolutionary, while still maintaining other people's trust and respect. But for the record, here is what's going through my mind.

It's a matter of perspective. As a visitor to this planet, I think I can understand the rationale behind the general prohibiton of public nudity. I don't necessarily agree with it, but I can understand where it comes from. Man is a filthy animal. But few aspects of human behavior confound me on so personal a level as the way in which people will permit their hang-ups about their own bodies to prevent them (nay, not just themselves, but others too) from avoiding the discomfort of wearing wet clothing - clothing that doesn't keep you dry in the first place, and retains moisture (sapping your body heat) long after your bare skin would have dried in the open air, even without the aid of a towel. It's irrational!

In addition to the self-inflicted torture of forced discomfort (not to mention the psychological toll of going through life hating your own body), some of the simplest pleasures in life are denied us when we cling so tightly to our man-made coverings, out of the fear of being reminded of what our anatomy looks like, and the function it serves. Not least of these is a joyful feeling of freedom the likes of which few ever experience in our culture. It sounds like a trite cliche, but take it from one with experience - it really is true.

As an artist, I also like to cite the beauty inherent in our design. What's the point of an attractive body if nobody gets to admire it? That's like draping a tarp over an exquisitely crafted statue! I stand by that argument, even though I'll begrudgingly admit that few of us approach the Platonic ideal of the sculpted human form. However, I'd rather suffer the chaff for the sake of the wheat, than gouge out my eyes to spite the unremarkable ordinary. Wouldn't you? (Don't answer that).

Regardless, swimming is one activity that seems to make a mockery of our usual commitment to so-called "decency" and "modesty". Yet, it seems silly to go only so far, and then still stop short of the finish line, leaving you to your silly towel dance while you try to peel off a wet pair of shorts that clings defiantly to your legs (after which you immediately re-robe while your skin is still damp). Truly, an enlightened race of men would discard such ridiculous customs, acknowledge the dignity in our natural form, and simply swim nude under the open sky, like literally every other living creature on this planet.

If believing that makes me the crazy one, then I don't want to be sane. I just don't want to be labeled a menace to society, for thinking there's a better way than hiding a truth we all pretend not to know - namely, what we look like under our clothes.