Float Tank Revelations

On a recent trip to San Francisco, I went into a flotation tank. Also called sensory deprivation tanks or isolation tanks, these contraptions were invented by neuro-psychiatrist John C. Lily in 1954 as a tool to explore, study, and understand consciousness. 

Their effects were studied at hospitals and universities over the years and found to prompt the brain to switch out of beta brainwaves to theta patterns of activity. Theta states are beneficial for creativity, problem solving, and super learning. This process of non-ordinary consciousness can be insightful, restful, therapeutic, and oftentimes, well… trippy!

I have always been an explorer of consciousness. Through dreams, breathing techniques, meditation, dance, painting, and other modalities, I have sought and found apertures that might open my usual vantage point into something more expansive.

The dark, soundproof container of a flotation tank is one such portal. Its waters are matched to human skin temperature and buoyant with Epsom salt, which has a relaxing effect on muscle and nerves.

As I lay in the quiet, dark water, I became very aware of my heart beating. The space was close and humid. I knew I had plenty of air, but felt the need to take deeper breaths. And as I began a meditation around my breath, I slipped between the layers of normal thought processes and whoosh! Through the rabbit hole I went.

Suddenly, I was seeing all this magnificent intricacy of cellular activity happening inside myself. I could feel every capillary, every point of exchange between cells, and every chemical signal being passed between tissues. There was so much wisdom there, all acting on my behalf, not needing me to lift a finger. 

My immediate question: Who’s doing all this?

My next thought: I LOVE this body!

My very own dear human animal! I felt myself promise that I would offer it the best forms of nourishment and the most deliberate care the way I would a cherished pet. Any criticism or judgment I had held just melted away.

It’s been no surprise to me that I’ve felt this same reverence in my encounters with patients ever since. I continue to feel my commitment to that promise of care toward myself and feel it expand involuntarily to others.

Hmmm… Float on your back and breath regularly for a few minutes of life and fall in love with all of humanity.