People call it the “dirty thirty,” but instead of doing something wild and crazy, I tried cleansing instead. The highlight of my 30th birthday involved a Sensory Deprivation tank, also referred to "Float Therapy.” I’ve always been curious about the experience ever since I saw it featured on an episode of the Simpsons - you may recall Homer taking Lisa to try new age medicine to alleviate her stress. I could joke around and say Simpson’s did it first, rather, introduced it to me first, but my experience was different in ways I'm still trying to describe. I already knew this activity isn't for everyone - an unconventional "exercise", but I’m glad that I got to try something new.
The structure felt surreal: taking an elevator down to the basement, then walking through metal corridors, remnant of cyberpunk, science-fiction films. I got excited, because it felt like something from my dreams dawned into reality. Many times previously, I dreamed of being born into another dimension and it would often start in a place just like this. I use to write short stories about a young lady, Futura, who gets encapsulated on a space craft and travels the galaxy to observe life. From time to time, I'd fantasize about being within a preservation chamber - What happens once you resurface or emerge? I can't even say that coming here felt unusual, because the experience was genuinely pleasing.
I chose Float Lab in Westwood for their rate/duration; $40/2-Hour session. I arrived a few minutes late and missed their orientation video, but the attendant was kind enough to explain preparation and how the tanks are maintained. This facility focuses on it's cleanliness and hygienic practices - visitors must use the organic soaps and conditioners provided to wash away contaminants before & after entry. I did some research prior to my visit so I wasn't completely blind, but I still had a handful of concerns. The attendant assured me, “once you’re in there, it’s all you; you’re in full control of yourself and you’re allowed to leave at anytime you want.” Afraid I might scare myself and run away, I stayed for the full two-hours.
During my briefing, the attendant mentioned that they prepare a saline solution to allow people to float easily within the tank. In order to preserve the quality, I had to strip myself of all clothes and accessories once I entered the room. It felt strange, being completely exposed, but all of that disappeared as soon as I started floating. The only time I experienced physical discomfort was when the liquid touched my acne scars and cuts on my neck where I had shaven the night before; those areas stung, but it didn't take away from the things I felt inside. I imagined sinking into a jello-mold, or being inside a Matrix-Pod. I floated from corner to corner of the tank and rode my own waves. I lost track of time and focused on the quiet.
As soon as I heard three knocks against the water chamber, that was the signal to start leaving. I remember showering, dressing and exiting the building so I could access my car before any meter-maids had the chance. Even as my day dream ended, the fantasy hadn't completely vanished. Now, I keep returning to this memory as the experience freed me of many restrictions. My time spent within sensory deprivation gave an opportunity to really focus on myself and everything I was feeling. I don't know that I would engage this activity again in the future, but I'm happy that I even tried this. Truly, an exercise in self-acceptance and realization.
The structure felt surreal: taking an elevator down to the basement, then walking through metal corridors, remnant of cyberpunk, science-fiction films. I got excited, because it felt like something from my dreams dawned into reality. Many times previously, I dreamed of being born into another dimension and it would often start in a place just like this. I use to write short stories about a young lady, Futura, who gets encapsulated on a space craft and travels the galaxy to observe life. From time to time, I'd fantasize about being within a preservation chamber - What happens once you resurface or emerge? I can't even say that coming here felt unusual, because the experience was genuinely pleasing.
I chose Float Lab in Westwood for their rate/duration; $40/2-Hour session. I arrived a few minutes late and missed their orientation video, but the attendant was kind enough to explain preparation and how the tanks are maintained. This facility focuses on it's cleanliness and hygienic practices - visitors must use the organic soaps and conditioners provided to wash away contaminants before & after entry. I did some research prior to my visit so I wasn't completely blind, but I still had a handful of concerns. The attendant assured me, “once you’re in there, it’s all you; you’re in full control of yourself and you’re allowed to leave at anytime you want.” Afraid I might scare myself and run away, I stayed for the full two-hours.
During my briefing, the attendant mentioned that they prepare a saline solution to allow people to float easily within the tank. In order to preserve the quality, I had to strip myself of all clothes and accessories once I entered the room. It felt strange, being completely exposed, but all of that disappeared as soon as I started floating. The only time I experienced physical discomfort was when the liquid touched my acne scars and cuts on my neck where I had shaven the night before; those areas stung, but it didn't take away from the things I felt inside. I imagined sinking into a jello-mold, or being inside a Matrix-Pod. I floated from corner to corner of the tank and rode my own waves. I lost track of time and focused on the quiet.
As soon as I heard three knocks against the water chamber, that was the signal to start leaving. I remember showering, dressing and exiting the building so I could access my car before any meter-maids had the chance. Even as my day dream ended, the fantasy hadn't completely vanished. Now, I keep returning to this memory as the experience freed me of many restrictions. My time spent within sensory deprivation gave an opportunity to really focus on myself and everything I was feeling. I don't know that I would engage this activity again in the future, but I'm happy that I even tried this. Truly, an exercise in self-acceptance and realization.
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