Mat rolled out and soft lighting set the tone for a calming evening yoga practice. Splashed about my space were pillows, blocks, water, strap and books, anything I might need to support me in exploring a variety of asanas. Wrapped about my skin were simply its natural brown color and the cool air.
Some portions of the practice I recorded to post reflections later. Although I paid attention to angle of the camera in order to capture all movement within frame, I completely forgot about the video as I worked through my flow. I was trying familiar poses and new poses, with and without modifications and adaptations. All the while I completely forgot that I was, in fact, dressed only in my skin.
When I first started my clothes-free journey, I cared what my body looked like in a picture, whether I would be seen as beautiful, desirable, attractive. I wanted to be some version of perfect. Was I as pretty and lovely as the next naked woman?
This night, during my yoga session, that fell away. I was so excited about exploring the practice and using my breath to help me ride through stuck moments that I completely forgot that I was clothes-free. I celebrated breakthroughs, cried when I hit walls, and sometimes just plopped on the floor to let the work land.
In that time, it was no longer about being naked. It was about being myself in my full organic expression in the moment. That’s when it really became clothes-free LIFE.
It doesn’t mean that I never think about whether I am pretty; I am no longer constantly preoccupied with it. I am who I am in everyday life in my own skin. When I post pictures and reflections, I don’t worry about whether my breasts look awesome or my bottom is delicious. I just want to share from the heart, however I show up that day, inside and out.
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