Public Nudity

Last night I dreamt that I was naked in public.  The feelings that persisted predominantly in my dream were shamefulness and self consciousness.  I was so profoundly overly aware of my own nakedness, I couldn't wait to wake up and when I did, I put on a robe.  Went back to bed, but not to sleep.  I thought about the dream and it's origin.  Why did I have it?  Do I feel exposed?  Am I uncomfortable?  Nah, I just have the flu and with it come some fevers and some rather screwy dreams, but my contemplativeness did not end there.  I lay in bed, thought back to my youth and my first experience with being naked in public.  

I had this amazing grandparent, my precious Nana.  She was Scottish and her accent was thick as clotted cream, heavy as keifer.   She smelled like English Lavendar and sen sen.   Her skin was velvet and I could loose myself in it's endless folds.  She was an excellent soother and it seemed I often required this from her.   I loved days spent in her old, victorian home, with its black and white tiled entry hall, steep staircase  and the magical coat closet that had, concealed at its rear, a secret door that led to the back hallway of the house.   My mother had promised my brothers and I that we'd go swimming in the afternoon, but something came up and our plans had changed.  I was stranded at my Nana's and desperate to entertain my younger brother.   Wearing just my new pink, eyelet bikini, waiting impatiently for my promised swim, I was all of five years old.  I took my little brother's hand and silently led him out of the impressive hallway to the sidewalk and the bustling city streets that seemed to beckon me.  I was sure it would be simply fine for me to take him on a walk.  I was pretty sure of everything, including my ability to find my way back.  

Lost at 5 years old in a city, not my own, with my younger brother in tow, I felt utterly naked in my tiny bathing suit.  Strangers began to take notice of how out of place we were.  People started to stare at us and eventually a couple with accents unlike my Nana's but almost as impossible to understand, coaxed us into their house.  The police were called and then my mother was somehow, miraculously contacted.  I hadn't even known my grandparents last name.  The stir I caused in my itty bitty bikini was enormous; what a commotion.  I remember then, as night fell and the incident ended and my head hung heavily, how very exposed I felt;  how very naked to the world I was. 

My Nana's soothing skills came in handy that night.  I can almost feel her now as I could then, while sitting on her lap, clinging to her, my arms tied tight round her neck, face pressed so far into her chest, hoping to be lost there forever.   

Is it any wonder I feel a what seems like a bit too lost and somewhat exposed when I where a bikini?