I’ve realized that my “___-Word Story” series doesn’t mean anything. It’s the literary equivalent of a sugar rush: brief satisfaction followed by a feeling of What did I just do?
To go into more detail:
One of the subjects I write about on this blog is nudity.
Specifically: Nudists. I write stories about people who go naked, and have written about the times that I myself have gone naked.
The reason why is: I find people who go naked fascinating.
The reason why is: “Wear clothes” is a near-universal rule in any family and any society. And yet, such people say “No.”
I don’t see nudists as rebels. But, such peoples’ choice to go without clothes goes against the grain. And I want to know what drives a person to make such a choice, and what they learn about themselves, others, and the world around them, as a result of being naked.
Only, I often find myself disappointed. I get the impression that a number of people only go naked in order to more easily pleasure themselves sexually.
That’s where I come back to me writing about nudity: I feel like I’m writing stories for a reason that is equally shallow.
For example: My most recent story:
The night I sleep naked, I am told, “You sleepwalk.”
Reading those words again, I think What does that even mean?
At least, not to me.
Looking back on all my writing about nudity over the years, “I Have Found It” is the one piece I can honestly say I am proud of.
Everything else just… bleh. It doesn’t feel right.
I want to do right by people who choose to go naked.
It’s my duty as a Catholic to see the humanity in all people, regardless of what they are or aren’t wearing:
“‘Whatever you did to the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did to me.’”
~ Matthew 25:40
And, ultimately, I don’t see that happening when it comes to 99.9% of my writing on nudity.
Change is coming.
By the grace of God, it will be the change I need. Whatever that may be.
On a final note:
Thank you to the beautiful woman who made the photo used in this post possible.