Oddly normal; My 'skinny dipping in the North Sea' experience ...

The weather couldn't have been more perfect; a lovely warm September morning with clear sky out to sea affording a stunning view of the sun appearing over the horizon.   Alongside 200+ other ‘skinny dippers,’ my good friend and I stripped off our clothes, took hold of each others’ hand and ran into the North Sea …

And it turned out to be everything I’d hoped for. 

Standing around, fully clothed, waiting for the dip to happen, I was interested to know what had brought everyone to the point of baring all in public.  I knew I had my own journey which had led me there; I’m sure others had their own.  For some, like myself, it was maybe a significant milestone, others were maybe doing it in memory of loved ones, for others it was maybe simply a challenge.  Being naked in front of other people can be a scary thing to do and running into the cold North Sea in itself is a challenge!

I’d expected to feel extremely self-conscious, but that proved not to be the case.  Yes, I experienced a moment of this when the organiser told us it was time to take our clothes off, but I just took a deep breath & went for it.  Everyone else was doing the same after all! 

Holding my friend’s hand, we just ran towards the sea & the rising sun.  I found it very liberating to run naked across the sand amongst other people in the same state of (un)dress.   I guess that because everyone was there for the same experience, there was a sense of complete acceptance.  Another friend of mine described experiencing it as ‘oddly normal,’ and for me that perfectly summed it up.  No one was there to judge other peoples’ bodies, to compare, criticise, admire or ridicule.  No one was ogling anyone.  Everyone just appeared to be there for their own adventure and to share in the group experience. 

I found it surprisingly easy to run across the sand, and much as I’d been scarily anticipating the cold North Sea, it didn’t appear to be as cold as I’d expected.  I don’t know if this was because the sea wasn’t too cold this morning, or if it was the state of mind I was in, perhaps the adrenalin which would have been flowing through my body?  Or maybe, it was something to do with sharing such an amazing experience with so many other people?

It did feel colder as we walked out deeper and deeper … out to almost-chest height.  And my legs began to feel cold, before becoming numb!  But it also felt invigorating.  It was wonderful to look around and see so many people out in the sea against the beautiful backdrop of the rising sun.  That’s an image I’ll never forget.  And nor do I want to.

And then when we’d had enough, we turned round and headed back to the beach.  Any self-consciousness had completely left me and I felt comfortable and relaxed walking out of the sea in my bare body.

I’d expected to be shivering and uncomfortably cold, and had consequently went prepared with lots of warm clothes and hot water to drink … even a foil blanket!!  But it turned out I didn’t need them.  I simply dried myself off with my towel, and stepped back into my clothes …

Druridge Bay, just before the sun rose over the horizon ...

Seeing other peoples’ naked bodies in such an environment felt very natural and liberating.  I found myself simply noticing those other bodies; male and female.  There were all ages, all shapes and sizes … & every body was perfect.  Simply because every body there was enabling the individual to participate in a truly authentic experience and challenge. 

It wasn't even a ‘celebration’ of bodies, more of a sense of acceptance.  We’re all human.  We all have bodies.  We’re all different and unique … and that’s okay.

I find it sad that in our culture, bodies have become objects to be ashamed of, objects which need to be manipulated through diet and exercise to look a particular way, objects which need to be dressed a certain way, etc.  There’s often a sense of shame attached to nakedness, which I also find sad.  Why should we be ashamed of our bodies, of our natural selves.   We’re all born into the world, fully accepting of our bodies, luxuriating in and fully connected to our bodily experiences, and over time, we learn to be ashamed.  We learn to disconnect, we learn to hide … and we consequently disconnect from our full experience of life and living.

 Someone, when I told them I was doing the Skinny Dip commented about its being ‘rude’ and ‘naughty.’  I found this sad too.  There’s nothing rude or naughty about naked bodies.  Our culture has sexualised bodies to an almost pathological state.  Yes, bodies are sexual and are enjoyed sexually, in appropriate arenas and that should be celebrated.  But our society seems to promote the body as a sexual object too readily.

Our bodies are nothing more, or less, than the container which houses our Selves.  Our bodies are what allow us to experience life and living.  Our bodies allow us to touch, to taste, to smell, to hear, to see.  Our bodies are from where we experience our Selves and our life.


I will write more later about my journey to partaking in this event ...

The body as object or experiential container of self?

In modern western society, we live in a culture where a great deal of emphasis is placed on how we look as opposed to what our bodies actually enable us to do and experience. This creates a sense of our bodies as objects and creates a sense of disconnection between our bodies and our experiencing of our-Selves.

In the past, our bodies were experienced and appreciated more as means of production, ensuring we remained connected to, and within them. Before the advent of modern technology we used our bodies more; housework was heavier than it is now, people were more actively involved in the growth and production of their own food. The machines we use today create a distance between those things and our bodies, and we no longer experience the satisfaction of using our bodies for hard labour. And it seems that the less, as a society, we have the need to use our bodies for production or constructive reasons, the more the emphasis has shifted onto how our bodies look.

Turning the body into an object to be sculpted, to be dieted or exercised into an ideal dictated to us by the media and peer pressure, disconnects us from our-Selves. Our bodies are part of our-Selves. Our bodies are how we present our-Selves to the world. Our bodies are from where we relate to other people. Our bodies are also what enable us to experience our thoughts, feelings and experiences through our five senses. And yet, by viewing them as objects which need to be changed to fit society’s ideals and expectations, it’s easy to lose sight of, or to lose touch with, the true value and meaning of our bodies; as experiential containers of our Selves.

In modern Britain, it’s almost an accepted norm that women especially, but increasingly men too, will be weight and body conscious, or on some kind of restricting diet in order to mould themselves into an ‘ideal’ shape constructed by the media and society. It seems that many people are more concerned with what society and our culture tell us about how we should look than with listening to their own Selves, to their own bodies. And this is where disordered eating can begin to creep in as people lose touch with their body’s own hunger signals in their attempts to mould their body to fit these ideals. Our bodies, if we learn how to listen clearly to them will tell us what we need to eat. Our bodies, if we listen to them and satisfy their physiological hunger will settle at a weight that’s right for them; very difficult to achieve though in a culture which prizes thinness, and often thinness to a point below the natural weight of many women.

Our modern Western world is still based on a patriarchal system where the masculine is prized over the feminine. The masculine principles of individuality, rational thought, autonomy and independence are prized above the feminine principles of intuition, feelings and emotion. A spiritual theory of eating disorders views eating disorders as a ‘Spiritual Hunger’, as a woman’s disconnection from her Self, her Inner Goddess and her inner feminine as a result of trying to fit into this Western world. People with eating disorders tend to have highly developed masculine principles to the detriment of their feminine and spiritual side which shows itself both in their character traits and their determination to eliminate their physical feminine body.

The accepted female shape, or what is considered ‘attractive’ has changed considerably over time. In past centuries, and even today in other cultures, female bodies are valued and worshipped for the amazing vessels which they are; bodies which nourish and create life. This statue, the ‘Venus of Willendorf’ from Palaeolithic times illustrates these changes.

The idea of woman as a goddess, prevalent in ancient times, has been lost in our society, and today instead, we’re fed images of often
painfully, or unrealistically, thin models to aspire to. A healthy

woman’s body is meant to contain a percentage of fat (between 21% and 36%, compared to 10% and 25% for men), it’s meant to be curvy to house her internal organs and prepare her for nurturing children. A female curvy body with rounded stomach, thighs and hips were once valued and worshipped. Yet today, women strive to eliminate all such curves; and by doing so disconnect themselves from their full experiencing of them-Selves and their experience of living as a woman in a woman’s body.

This blog post can also be found on Camel's Hump Blog ...http://camelshump.co.uk/2011/12/06/is-the-body-just-an-object/