Monday, May 3, 2010. 8:36 PM
Opononi, Northland, New Zealand
This is a fun one. All this nice weather and country makes me wanna get naked. Being alone in nature makes clothes seem irrelevant. It started with stripping down and jumping into lakes, rivers, glacial runoff. I was lying in the warmth of a soft field of tall grasses, and got naked to feel the sun with all of me. Now I know what my nephews feel like, when they strip and run amok, and don’t want to put on pants! (which usually elicits at least one laughing reprimand of “nudie boy!”)
Gentle World epiphany coming through ~ ~ ~ When I first met Sun, the lady, a warm glowing star, 40-year-vegan, but small, fit, and grandmotherly, she said “Gimme a hug!” We hugged, and she gently corrected “full body”… it was definitely more complete, to feel her warm welcome from head to toe.
A few days later, when I went over to Doe’s place, she was tanning nude on her caravan veranda. Her dog, Kisses comes out to meet me barking, who I instinctively keep my eyes on, away from her. I know it wasn’t a big deal, and it was funny, to muse for a moment, that it was a booby-trap! – I was invited over by (52-young) Mrs. Robinson. I asked her if she has any sun lotion I can put on my face, and she says No, I’m a Naturalist.
Anyway, an hour later I’m struggling through a field of tall grass, trying to get to the elusive ‘gorge’ which lies somewhere among those hills in the vastness of 454-acre Gentle World. I’m pushing my way through the tall thick grass, and on either side is dense bush. Wading my way back into the tamer border zone I find a more manageable path that a mower made some time ago. Collapsing onto the soft blanket of yellow clippings, it’s so warm and nice. Inspired by Doe, off come my clothes. Feeling sublime, I get drunk on the sky.
Next day, late-afternoon siesta in my caravan. The sun is shining through the big window onto my bed, I’m reading Vegan Poet‘s awesome vegan poetry book. I upgrade to bare skin, and feel exalted. Dozing in the sun never felt so good.
Next I’ve pedaled half way up my far north detour to the top of New Zealand, the meeting point of the Tasman Sea and Pacific Ocean, where the souls of the dead migrate to enter the underworld (according to Maori belief). Camping at the beach, the sun is low, the light is orange. I strip, relax in my stone heated throne, write a song for a friend, and send it to her. In the twilight with the perfect ipod soundtrack, the ocean and I danced upon on a tie-dyed mirror beach.
Last night found myself alone on an even awesomer beach. How can I be here, and it be so beautiful, majestic, just so nice, and all mine? The rockscape is like another planet. The tidal pools are amazing, some painted pink inside, with perfectly clear water, lined with seaweed, rocks at the bottom, sometimes with starfish, and one corner bubbling from the rising waves, pool after pool cascading down towards the sea. Off come my pants, much better for splashing around, announcing my mantra “I am here!”, with no-one and everything. I am free. I write another song, We can do anything, We can go anywhere. Even after a day of hills, I practice jumping like I used to, and my daily dance party continues till the sun is gone.
I’m just playing. Rediscovering the basic pleasures in life, things I knew before I was taught anything. In nature’s school! Good nite. It all sounds weirder on paper. But whatever, you know how good it is to be naked!