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When I first received an email about trying float therapy, I have to admit I was pretty skeptical. It helped that the description included the words “therapy,” “spa,” and “relaxing,” but what I imagined was just sitting in a giant bathtub for an extended period of time didn’t sound like something I couldn’t accomplish on my own. That being said, I decided to give it a try, and I must say I was pleasantly surprised.
For starters, what is float therapy you ask? The experience is designed to strip away distracting stimulants so that you can enter into a calming, meditative state. Essentially there’s some form of a chamber that is void of sound or light, and there’s incredibly salty water that’s warmed to the exact temperature of your skin.
The result is that as you enter the chamber and float on your back in the water, your body feels nothing. You can’t see anything, you can’t hear anything, your skin almost ceases to sense anything, and your body floats comfortably in the saltwater in a way that seems to defy gravity. The video below should give you a clearer picture of the experience.
One of my greatest concerns about the experience was that I would feel lonely and isolated. To be transparent, I’ve had a hell of a year. Grief, change, growth, uncertainty, and fear are always a part of life, yet in this year, I’ve had to confront all of these challenges each morning. I didn’t realize how much weight it was on my shoulders until I was able to set it down.
When you go in for a float, you walk into your own little space. Once the attendant leaves, it’s just you in a room. There’s a bench for you clothes and belongings, and a shower to wash off before you climb in the tank. Showering off, I felt like I was able to rinse off the day. I knew for the next hour, no one expected anything of me, and there was literally nothing I needed to accomplish. The space was mine.
After showering, it was time to climb in the tank. This was probably the freakiest part for me, as the tank looks like a vault in the wall. It soothed my mind that there was no lock, or even a latch, but I was still a little anxious. However, the tank was roomy: it was almost tall enough to stand up right in, and probably about 8 feet long by 5 feet wide. It was enough space to put my mind at ease.
I closed the door behind me, and laid down in the saltwater. I knew the water was supposed to be buoyant, but I was shocked by how much I floated. My body was totally supported. I turned off the lights, and officially started the float.
Although the water felt good, it served as a rude awakening in terms of health of my body. It was a serious wake up call that I needed to care for my body better. I foolishly hadn’t notice the deep cuts on my feet from routinely surfing at a rock reef break, but oh boy did I notice them in the ultra-salty water. Pro-tip: coat scrapes and scratches with vaseline or Neosporin before going in; they even had some in the changing room. If you skip this step, expect serious stinging.
The float vault.
I also noticed how tight, stiff, and sore various part of my body were. My neck, my hips, my low back, and my shoulders all felt extremely uncomfortable, even though I was being supported with literally zero pressure points. I’ve heard that the body finds odd way to physically store the stress and grief we experience emotionally, and now I can 100% say it’s true. Clearly my body had taken even more of a beating from this year than my brain or heart had. However, upon noticing this pain, I was able to breathe into it, rub out sore spots, and stretch tense muscles. It was an amazing release.
As I settled into the float, I felt my mind start to wander. However, as thoughts came, I followed the advice of Just Float founder, Jim Hefner, and just let them go. Slowly, I found myself become perfectly calm. I was able to meditate seamlessly. Normally, I struggle to find the time and the focus to meditate, but while floating it came naturally. An hour passed by in no time, and before I knew it, the lights gently turned on, and it was time to climb out of the tub.
As I showered off, I felt amazing. My thoughts were calm, my body was relaxed, and when I looked in the mirror, my skin was glowing. It was apparent the float had served me well.
I thanked Jim and the staff as I left, and he told me “Good luck” when it came to sharing my experience. He said that’s the most difficult part about float therapy: finding the words to describe it.
He’s right. It’s challenging to explain what you experience while floating. So instead, I’ll share what I didn’t experience. For an hour, I didn’t have to be anyone. I didn’t have to be an editor, or an incoming law student, or a daughter, or a sister, or a girlfriend, or a friend. For an hour, I didn’t have to look or act a certain way. I didn’t have to speak or even think. I didn’t have to process or heal or feel. It was like I got to take an hour off from being anything at all.
On the flip side, coming back out, I didn’t have to be any of those things; instead, I got to be them. I had created a healthy space between my emotions and the negative things and my life, and I had fostered gratitude for all the good things. And I doubt I could have accomplished that on my own in a bathtub. I’m grateful I had the chance to experience float therapy, and I’d definitely recommend it to anyone who needs to hit the refresh button.
If you’re interested in learning more about float therapy or try it out yourself, check out Just Float.
