Meditating Nude Audiolibro Por Kristin Williams arte de portada

Meditating Nude

It's the Only Way

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Meditating Nude

De: Kristin Williams
Narrado por: Virtual Voice
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 Meditating Nude: Yes, I’m Serious. No, I Won’t Put Pants On.

Let’s get this out of the way: yes, I meditate. Yes, I do it naked. Yes, it’s exactly what it sounds like—me, bare as a peeled banana, sitting criss-cross applesauce with nothing but my thoughts, my breath, and the occasional butt breeze to keep me company.

And no, I will not apologize for it.

People ask me all the time, “Kristin, do you have to be naked to meditate?”

And I say: “No. You get to be naked to meditate. That’s the magic.”

This isn’t just about hippie nonsense and butt freedom (although, obviously, that’s a perk). This is about stripping away all the crap—literally and emotionally—that keeps us from actually being in our bodies. Because listen: you can’t truly connect to the divine when your sports bra is trying to saw your ribcage in half and your leggings are forming a denim-level death grip on your labia.

Why Clothes Are the Worst Spiritual Blockages

You ever tried deep breathing in jeans?

Exactly.

Half the battle in meditation is simply getting comfortable, and you cannot achieve Nirvana when your waistband is giving you a flesh taco. Add in some itchy tags, a rogue bra strap, and the soul-sapping horror of a wedgie during child’s pose, and you’ve basically built yourself a prison of enlightenment.

But take all that off?

Suddenly you can breathe.

You can feel your skin, your limbs, your literal butt on the cushion, and it’s like your soul whispers, “Oh honey, there you are.”

The First Time I Meditated Naked

I didn’t set out to do it on purpose. I had just gotten out of the bath, wrapped in a towel, lit a candle, sat down on my cushion... and the towel betrayed me. Just slipped.

I could’ve fixed it.

I could’ve put it back.

But I didn’t. I sat there, full moon rising, and said, “Well. Let’s ride this out.”

And ride it I did. I felt my breath in new places. My thighs unclenched. My shoulders softened. My mind went quiet—not because I forced it, but because for the first time, there was nothing squeezing me. Nothing pulling. Nothing pinching. Just me and my skin and my breath and the sound of Susan yelling at her dog next door.

I was home.

What This Book Is (And What It Is Absolutely Not)

This book is not about becoming a wellness influencer with a neutral-toned Instagram grid and matcha sponsorships.
It’s not about being perfect or flexible or even particularly wise.

It is about getting quiet with yourself while being naked enough to feel ridiculous and raw and brave all at once. It’s about sitting still with your boobs out and saying, “I am here. I am whole. I might be sweaty, but I am grounded, dammit.”
It’s about learning how to breathe, be present, and not panic when a fly lands on your inner thigh mid-om.

So Who Is This Book For?

You.

Yes, you.

You who have ever felt weird in your body. You who can’t sit still for more than eight seconds without checking your phone. You who have secretly thought, “Meditation seems nice but I don’t know how to do it without spiraling into an emotional casserole.”

And maybe, just maybe, you who are curious about what it might feel like to sit cross-legged in the sun with no pants on, eyes closed, breath deep, and zero f*cks given.
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