This week, I tried a floating/sensory deprivation session. Let’s talk about it.

I won’t pretend I wasn’t slightly terrified of getting nude and enclosing myself in a giant box filled with water and darkness. But I had a gift certificate and figured I would likely never have bought myself the opportunity, so I had to try it while I could!

First off, the lady at the desk was entirely welcoming and informative, but her directions to get in were so clear that I wanted to make sure I did everything exactly right. So while she was still talking, I hurriedly removed my earrings so she would notice I was following the rules by taking off all jewelry, made sure when I showered to rinse off any excess oils, then with gusto, stepped into the tank, shut the door, and lied down like a pro.

Crap. I forgot the ear plugs.

Jumped back out, hurriedly dried my ears, then stuffed the ear plugs in, again, reading all directions to make sure I was doing it right. Back in again.

Ok, the darkness isn’t so bad. And there is definitely plenty of space and air around me, so I’m not worried about that. She said to make sure I fully relaxed otherwise I would start to feel it in my neck, so– shrug shoulders hard, release, repeat. I think I’m relaxed now. She also said my brain would be going crazy for the first twenty minutes, but I meditate all the time, I should be okay to begin.

Time passes, and my brain isn’t as loud as it is normally. I let thoughts pass as they rise up, and start to notice different things about my body. Like if my arms are like a cactus by my head, it isn’t as comfortable as I thought, so I tried my arms out at my sides instead, learning that palms up wasn’t going to work. My left hand keeps floating to my hip, and I smile. I keep moving it back out, and it keeps coming back. I chuckle, because it’s bizarre. Ok, calmness. Back to center. Hands go back above my head. Then I tried to lie in Supta Baddha Konasana (knees wide, soles of the feet together) and find a strange phenomenon that whenever my feet touch, they sink. Again, bizarre, so I come back to a Savasana-style position. Here and there, my left toes seem to find the left wall very softly, and again, I am thrown off by the consistent curious patterns of my body (and also all on my left side, which is another pattern I noticed). My brain is rather calm, but these things keep coming up, as they often do, whether in meditation or not. Again, I gave them acknowledgment and validation and tried to move on, breathing deeply.

There goes my heartbeat, pounding deeply and vibrating through my chest and ears… I haven’t really listened to it that much before. I was in awe; the human body is amazing. Listening to it speed up with different breath techniques then slow back down, it was incredible to connect with such a huge part of my life and existence, which we rarely if ever do, right?

A few minutes in, I started to dislike my body. Actually, I had been feeling frustrated with my frame all day, slightly bloated and a small weight gain I would like to blame on the holidays but really started earlier than that. And in the tank, I was far too aware that my hips were heavy, my middle section larger than I like, and I kept comparing myself to a small whale. But as always, tried to let the thoughts pass like floating clouds in the sky and move back to the goal of quietness.

There’s no clock in the chamber, which at first I wished for, then realized it was nice to have a moment to pretend like time didn’t exist. That I didn’t have to meet a deadline or concern myself with what I had to do later in the day, I could merely lie there. No worries or qualms….. something was changing in my brain.

I started to take my hands over my body, allowing water to drip on my chest, belly, and hips, since they were not submerged, but still damp from the humidity. It was glorious. It became a game, seeing how quickly the water would fall, and suddenly I was in love with my body. My curves and shape and imperfections. It was perfectly me!

A light-heartedness took over my spirit, and I started to see if I could do any yoga poses in this space, while obviously still keeping my head above water. Lotus was a bust; my bum fell straight to the bottom immediately and it was nice and hot on the bottom so I snapped my legs out, only causing a huge splash and another set of giggles for my spastic movements. Then dancers pose, which was actually quite effective, albeit not in the proper alignment 🙂 I began to see if I could slowly move from the top to bottom of the tank, lifting arms overhead and pushing off til I landed at the bottom, coming into a squat and launching myself off toward the top again. Then side to side, stretching my torso and toes toward one direction and my hips another.

A thought came up in the midst of this: I’m supposed to be quiet, and here I am, playing around…. What my mind and body must really need is to be free.

For those of you who have followed the blog a bit, you know about my journey back to my inner self that I’ve called River Woman, based on a childhood nickname. This free, fun-loving little girl with wild hair, bare feet, and an unmatchable imagination. And in this moment, in this bizarre, dark tank filled with epsom salt water… I found her.

I let go of the “should” idea, and simply became who I clearly had been longing to be again. Let go of expectations of the world, being an adult, bills, finding a new place to live, the stressors that each of us deal with daily and the added “bonuses” that try to keep us from living. Instead, I played. I splashed. I smiled. I was free.

 

After a little bit, the filter came on, signaling it was time to get out. Showering to get the excess salts off the body, I was ready for all the usual to-do lists to enter back into my brain as I washed my hair. Then I noticed something even greater. I wasn’t thinking about anything. I was just washing my hair. Noting the sensations of my fingers and scalp. That’s it. Breathing was less mundane and more fulfilling. I looked back in the mirror at my naked self after getting out of the shower, and I wasn’t angry with my appearance this time. This was me. And I loved me.

Shortly after leaving, I went to tell a friend about my experience and noticed how quickly I was speaking, giggling, making jokes, feeling myself again after such a long time. I let go. I had longed to simply live, and here was my opportunity! Right then and there, to leave behind the worries–not because they don’t exist or that responsibilities are unnecessary–and just be.

In the past few days, I’ve seen further changes in myself. In my interactions with others. I went back to work feeling refreshed and happy and secure in my person, when I had been dealing with feeling merely tolerated and dispensable. I could see how others around me treated me differently as I was more open again. Even today, as I’m writing this, I feel inexplicably happy.

This is not to say I haven’t dealt with tough things this week, or that I didn’t have to cancel a class to care for myself one day. Life is hard; there will always be obstacles to face, whether we are rich, poor, sick, healthy, whatever. What matters, though, is how we face these things. “There are always flowers for those who wish to see them,” says Henri Matisse. I am often reminded of those words when my struggles come charging at me. Then I tell myself a few mantras as I feel myself beginning to crumble:

I am victorious.

I will not be defeated.

You might be skeptical, but I stand by the notion that if you tell yourself positive things, you begin to believe them. We start to believe the lies we hear about ourselves, whether spoken out of another’s mouth or our own–you’re not good enough. You’re stupid. You always fail. You don’t matter.

What if, instead, we told ourselves the truths we haven’t believed since we were kids? You are free. You are filled with life. You are learning. You are cherished.

 

Apparently, all I needed to learn this was one giant bath.