Naked Fun

It was an impeccable weekend at Esalen. Warm during the days, cool at night. Sunlight dancing on the ocean waves. Whale sightings.

And in the baths at night, bodies bathed in moonglow and warm mineral waters, we welcomed each other with soft voices, laughing lightly.

For two days, Matt and I and 22 strangers from various parts of the world met and learned and played and formed a community of such lightness, such trust and openness, such actual love, that something unique was built. Something unforgettably delicious. Something so warm, so light, so innocent, so nakedly fun.

We didn't actually have anything to do with the naked part, Mat and I. The baths were strictly extra-curricular. But we each eventually met everyone naked. And I think that's maybe what put us over the edge, playwise, communitywise.

Because we were naked, see, and no matter what we thought of our bodies, or of anybody else's, we had no other choice except to accept ourselves as we were, unconcealed, in the open. And later, when we played with the very people who accepted our bodies so completely, it was like being a kid again.

It was actually better than being a kid again. It was like being the kind of grown-up you hoped you'd become when you were a kid.

Matt and I, I have to tell you, haven't led a week-end workshop together in maybe twenty years. And we were great together. And so was everyone else.

We share a very loving playfulness, he and I. And we built on each other's skills as easily as we built on the skills of everyone in the play community. Matt built our community out of our commonalties. We got to meet people who were born in the same season, who shared our preference for harmony or rhythm or melody, who folded or crumpled their toilet paper.

And I got to use my wonderful In Focus projector and computer and video power to share some ideas about the depths of play and games.

As to the games: we played theater games, and New Games, and truly Pointless Games. Human Spring, of course, and Prui, the Lap Game and games both humorous and numerous. We gave each other standing ovations in the restaurant. For some reason, saying the word "fennel" became a sure way to get an instant laugh, and talking about the imaginary Gisela an opportunity to build a fantasy femme fatale.

It was truly, honestly, all in good fun. Innocent fun. A kind of fun in which we regain our innocence, our inner sense of self as the infinite player. Naked fun.