Salt of the Earth

There’s no wrong way to float.

That priceless bit of advice was the last thing Divine J9, the founder of Body Mind Salt, told me Wednesday just before I began my first float therapy session.

I had been walking by this spa on Third Avenue for weeks, promising myself that I was going to give float therapy a try, but never making an appointment.

This is an all-too-familiar behavior pattern for me, but since I had off last week. I decided it was time to sink the excuses and sign up for a float.

Float therapy, or sensory deprivation, involves climbing into a tank of water filled with Epsom salt for a zero-gravity voyage through inner space.

The first isolation tank was designed in 1954 by John C. Lilly, a physician and neuroscientist, who wanted to study the origins of consciousness by cutting off all external stimuli.

Studies have indicated that time spent floating in a sensory deprivation tank may provide such benefits as muscle relaxation, better sleep and decreased stress and anxiety.

I first became aware of floatation tanks ages ago after watching an episode of Hawaii Five-O in 1968, where the evil Communist agent Wo Fat--making his first appearance as Steve McGarrett’s arch-enemy--used one to torture people.

Then I went to see William Hurt go for a wild ride in a flotation tank in 1980’s Altered States, where all manner of supremely weird stuff happened.

Despite all that—or maybe because of it—I had to give floatation therapy a try.

I told J9 that this was my first float and she gave me the lowdown on what to expect. She said that she prefers floating with her arms out over head like Superman, but my body position was entirely up to me.

Whatever Floats Your Boat...

Well…it was a bit strange. The rest of the world disappeared as soon as I closed the door to the tank and settled in.

I had heard so much about people experiencing hallucinations during their float that I think I got a little impatient.

C’mon, damn it, I thought, what time does my life-changing vision begin?

And then I went on a guilt trip, scolding myself because I had a million things to do at home, that you shouldn’t use equipment to attain enlightenment; you should just meditate.

Did Buddha float around in a metal tank like a cork in a bathtub?

Finally, I decided to let all my anxiety fall to the bottom of the tank and enjoy myself.

I emerged from the tank after an hour, showered and grabbed a cup of tea.

I wasn’t feeling radically different and I thought at first that it was unlikely that I’d do this again.

But as the day progressed, I noticed that I was more patient and less anxious than usual. I was walking slower, talking slower.

It’s not the float; it’s the after-buzz.

When I went into a local vegetable store, I stood behind this harried gentleman who groused because the cashier wasn’t there to wait on him immediately.

“Where the hell is she?” he grumbled.

I wasn’t bothered in the least by the delay, but I readily acknowledge that had this happened prior to the float, I would’ve just as crabby as this man.

The good feeling lasted for the entire day and while I love massages, the best rubdown I ever had didn’t stay with me for this long.

I had gone into this place looking for an aquatic LSD trip but I came away with something much more meaningful.

I decided to sign up for two more floats and I plan on going in with no expectations except for the most basic one.

There’s no wrong way to float.