Happy Saturday!
So I was reminded by someone today that myspace.com still exists somehow. I often forget that, even though for a time myspace.com was a very significant part of my life. I go back on occasion just to see if anything interesting is going on (there's not) and to look at a few old pictures I still have on my profile.
Today, I checked out my old blog over there. Myspace gave everyone the option for a blog on their profile and I wrote a few things on mine at one point. I forgot all about that and it was fun to re-read some thoughts from that time period.
One thing I wrote in particular was about my experience going into a sensory deprivation tank. I enjoyed writing about it because it was just such a weird adventure and I loved it. I highly recommend it to anyone even remotely interested in doing it. It will really blow your mind.
So in celebration of the past and myspace.com's slow demise, and because I am being lazy this weekend and would rather sit around in my underwear watching TV instead of trying to explore a new topic, here is an old post about what sensory deprivation did for me.
So...........
I went to a place in Chicago called Space-Time-Tanks after I worked clinic at school. A friend from class had told me about it and I have always wanted to try the sensory deprivation experience, so she and I and her boyfriend all met up and went together. We walked in and the place reeked of pachuli insense. There were super old red velvet couches whose frames were made of mirrors. And a fish tank. And a guy at the desk who looked a little like a tame David Bowie from Labyrith. It was awesome already!
Sort-of-Bowie asked that we take our shoes off. Then after letting us get settled and read some of the new agey books on display in the lobby, he asked if we were ready to float. We were ready as one could be when one is going into something completely new and foreign to oneself. So we nodded and followed him into the hallway. He took us into a small room with a stand up shower and a huge container in it. He showed us how everything worked, and I stayed in that room to begin my experience.
First, you shower off completely. Then you lift open a door that is reminiscent of the outdoor cellar door at Dorothy's farm in The Wizard of Oz. Inside that door is a large square container with 10 inches of water and 800 pounds of Epsom salts dissolved in it. The salts are not only very good for relaxing muscles (I learned that in school) but it also makes your body float effortlessly in the water. So you put in some ear plugs to avoid getting water in your ears, you make sure you dont rub your eyes or the salt will burn like a mother, and you close the door and are plunged into complete and utter darkness.
In the tank, you lose sight, sound and touch. You are weightless and can't hear anything but your own heartbeat, breath, and occasionally eyelashes when you blink. You cannot tell if you are awake or alseep. You cannot feel your limbs. You get to spend an hour in nothingness. And it was so blissful.
At first, I saw so many colors as my eyes, so used to be stimulated all day long, fired off the last remnants of colors and shapes. I watched these colors sort of melt and shimmer until they faded to the pitch black that I was actually seeing. Then my heartbeat and blinking became so loud and rythmic, and I lost myself in it. My mind chatter took a long time, but eventually faded away a bit too. It was like that inner critic that we all have moved about 10 paces away from my ear--I could still hear her, but just barely over the sound of my own breathing.
My body was not there anymore. I felt none of it. Every now and then, I wiggled a toe or finger to make sure I was still real. And then I would be comforted to know I was still truly there. It was so good to let go and not have to pay attention to this shell I am in all the time--my own skin. My mind no longer had to deal with my body. I was free to wander in my head.
I fell asleep once--and when I woke my body jerked and splashed around. Then I looked up at the ceiling and saw images in black and white--they were almost like comic book images, but in motion. It was really intense because I was not trying to see anything, it was just appearing before my eyes that were wide open. I relished in this uncontrolled story line unfolding above me until it too faded away slowly.
I was amazed at my breathing. Deep, repetitive inhale-exhales that came from a place I rarely breath from in my daily life. I thought maybe I was experiencing being awake while breathing like we do while sleeping. Because truly, after a while I could not tell if I was awake or asleep. I began to think of my breath as sounding like a hot-air balloon, and was immediately thrown into a very vivid childhood memory of the Hot Air Balloon Races in Fresno. My mother would wake me up at 6am just to go sit on the backyard grass still moist with early morning dew, and she and I and sometimes Dad would watch the balloons pass over our house. Sometimes they were so low we could say hello to the people controlling them. It was a wild memory that made me really happy and it was so clear I felt like I was back there still, shivering in my pajamas on the back porch, my mom in her robe, and my Dad in his slippers.
So that all came from my deep breathing. A precious moment I remember like it was yesterday. As it faded, much like everything in the experience, I thought to myself, "Don't forget how beautiful that was."
Eventually I lost track of myself and my mind and was just floating freely and enjoying the new sensations. This bliss was finally interupted by a gentle rapping on my "chamber door" so to speak. I had been instructed to knock back, so I did, to signal I was aware my time was up.
I slowly came out of my dreamstate and opened the door. The lights were now deep red in the room, and I took a long hot shower in that light. Then I slowly put my clothes back on (difficult, as I was a bit uncoordinated after my weightlessness) and walked out of there feeling like I had slept for hours without really sleeping.
Now, 4 hours later, I am so sleepy and dreamy that I can barely write all this. But I wanted to try and put it into words while it was still fresh in my head.
I reccommend this to anyone who needs a break from reality for a little while. Anyone who needs to let go or brainstorm on a creative thought or figure out their life or the meaning of that life. It was pure non-existence, and I am all the better for getting the chance to experience that phenomena.
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