Groundbreakers

Daring Explorers of Nudism

It can feel lonely for the nudist, it can be scary. We are the pioneers, the discoverers, the explorers trodding unfamiliar ground. We have to be brave. We are like Mallory on Everest, climbing higher than anyone’s ever gone, each step upward is forced and daringly taken. The vistas expand, we see the tops of mountain ranges, breathing rarefied air, soaring through the stratosphere, delirious with delight and mind-boggling visions, full of hope, dreamy with life, oblivious to gravity, lost in the clouds at times, but with vision as sharp as a falcon’s gaze.

Each one of us is on a journey into the unknown. Nudists are groundbreakers, horizon seekers, sailors on a rolling sea far from shore. We grow so accustomed to our nudity that we fail to appreciate how brave it is, how so few venture so far. We are among the select few with the courage and passion to take this risky, mind-expanding trip, the rare adventurers that risk it all to discover new truths and reveal worlds previously unseen. Those who climb the greatest heights become icons, drinking fully the nectar of the gods, living a life beyond the comprehension of mere mortals.

We suffer the slings and arrows, the accusations, the defamations, because we believe in nudism so much. Nudism is so much more than taking off our clothes, it’s a way of life, a philosophy, a source of wonder and amazement. Nudism is a cause we believe in. One day millions will join us, but now we are a small minority, outcasts, foreigners, revolutionaries, passionate believers trying to lead the world to a better place. “Once you try it you’ll hate yourself for not doing it sooner,” we say, but it’s like an astronaut on the moon speaking to someone afraid of heights.

Many of us can’t take the uncertainty, the relentless questioning, the net-less wire walk between skyscrapers. It would be so much easier to go down the mountain and sling on comfortable shoes and throw all that we know and love away, keep our mouths shut and join the mouth-breathing villagers in their slipper and robes. Some may not give up nudism, but they cauterize the risk, retreating to safe spaces, practicing nudism only when the conditions are perfect, behind secluded gates, or with trusted allies, always asking for permission.

Few can keep breaking ground forever, the exposure along knife-edge ridges is too extreme, the rock avalanches too risky. We resist the call to get in line for as long as we can. We tune-out the angry demands to conform, to sit down, stop rocking the boat, for as long as we can. Some eventually obey, like dogs afraid of another beating. Once-proud nudists become like everyone else— docile, a pattern on the kitchen wallpaper, there but unseen, unappreciated, a life half-lived, unhappy and frustrated, like thoroughbreds not allowed to run and set out to pasture.

We need to prevent this. The daring soul must find shelter from the storm, a safe place to lay their cot, away from the lightning bolts snapping all around. The groundbreaking nudist needs to find a way to live another day and save their strength for when it really matters. Because that day will come.