Stone, Smoke and Water, #reverb10

Prompt: December 3rd
Moment: Pick one moment during which you felt most alive this year.  Describe it in vivid detail (texture, smells, voices, noises, colors) -Ali Edwards

When I look back at my life, the moments when I have felt most alive were also the moments when I felt most authentic.  Authenticity, to me, is demonstrated by knowing oneself, both bad and good. And then accepting and living comfortably in one's own skin because of, or even in spite of it.  

Once I saw today's prompt, it was easy for me to know where I would "find" my moment this year, because it is easy for me to pinpoint the weekend on which I felt most authentic and true to myself.  The weekend was that of July 10, 11, and 12, in Veneta, OR, at the Oregon Country Fair.  I already have mentioned that it was a highlight of my year.  I expect it to be a highlight of many years to come.  I am a recent initiate into the OCF family, and once again, I must give link love to my fairy godmother, nakedjen, for being my guide.  She has been going to the Fair for more years than I am willing to guess, since I cannot remember the number, and I don't want to offend her by guessing too few.   After hearing her enthusiasm for it year after year, I finally decided I had to check it out.  In 2009, I went with DH and NJ.  This year, DH stayed home, and I camped with NJ, and her friend D.

So I went to sleep Thursday night knowing on what weekend my "moment" was, and when I woke, I realized when exactly the moment was.

It was at the first day of the Fair, on a Friday, as always.  The grounds are huge and the paths are windy, and all sorts of unexpected intrigue await around every bend.  One thing I was not expecting was the spa-like Ritz, which provides showers, bathing supplies, cubbies to stuff your clothes into while you shower, and an open air sauna.  On Friday at the Ritz, there was a "Women's Hour,"  which actually lasted most of the afternoon.  I am pretty unhappy with my body, so this would be the one time during the weekend I was brave enough to go into the showers.

I was not planning on going to the shared showers because of my body image issues, and paid the fee for a private shower.  There are some private showers, but the majority of the showers are communal.  But what I wasn't expecting was that when I asked for a towel, there were none!  NJ laughed, and pointed out the circle of nude women around an open air sauna.   I was going to have to dry in front of it, naked and exposed to everyone.

It was at that moment, much to the amazement of my dear friend, and myself, quite frankly, that I literally said, "Fuck it, I'm going to use the group showers."  I bought a small bar of chamomile soap, and went into the dressing area, nervous as hell.  I quickly stripped down, and followed NJ to the showers.

The Ritz must be one of the most beautiful places to shower.  With the sky as a roof, a planked wooden floor, showers mounted on a wooden pergola, and women chattering around me, there was so much to take in.  It was hot and humid, something my Northern California-attuned body found pretty unbearable.  Even the warm water from the shower seemed cool, and lovely.  On the other side of a wall of sinks and mirrors, the singing of women around the sauna floated in the air.  I washed myself as hastily as possible, and then looked around me at all the different shapes of women and relaxed.  I allowed myself to wash myself again, deliberately and thoroughly.

As I approached the sauna, I saw other women, relaxed and happy in their own bodies.  No one was trying to hide or cover their imperfections.   The scent of smoke and wood rose from the sizzling, steaming rocks of the sauna, on which the Ritz attendants took turns tossing ladle-fuls of water,   On a small stage, a folk singer, as nude as the rest of us, led us in a round, which ended with "I love this place."  Around me were damp, clean smelling women, and another friend, freshly wet and gleaming, slid onto the bench beside us.  I sat singing, on a rough wooden bench, with NJ blissfully tearing up beside me.  I had confronted my fear of my own body, and taken a small step towards accepting myself as I am now:  Overweight, aging and imperfect.  I felt fully present, fully embraced, and full of joy.

Costumed and clean: