adventures in the flotation tank

     There are two kinds of people: those who, when they read about sensory deprivation in flotation tanks, think, "I've got to do that someday," and those that just underline sensory deprivation and study it for the test.
     Actually, no! That can't be right. Because I underline it and think "I've got to do that someday." So maybe there is only one type of person. Maybe everyone wants to be weightless and floating in complete darkness and silence in a tank. Maybe I've found the difference between humans and other species. It's not the ability to use tools: it's the desire to try a flotation tank.

     Lo and behold, in this fantabulous 21st century, flotation tanks have moved out of research labs and into spas. Psych labs have long used them to test the effects of sensory deprivation on stressed out people. It turns out that being weightless, in complete darkness and in total silence, is so relaxing you kind of lose touch with your body. It can help with addictions, with stress, pain, fatigue -- all the general effects of living in a world where sound, light, and gravity prevail.
     Oh, sure, some people report having hallucinations, and some are miffed that while floating their brains just seem not to want to do much of anything. While floating, they are too spaced out to think, and that bothers them. But having my brain lose its get-up-and-go for 60 minutes has always sounded pretty good to me, to tell you the truth. Being too relaxed to think, for me, I knew would be a very salubrious thing.

     So I book a float session. And for what feels like a long time I can hardly wait to stop hardly waiting for it or for anything else and just be floating in the silent darkness.
     David greets me at the desk. He says that no one has booked the tank after me, and asks if I would like to stay for 90 minutes. Yes, yes, yes, please! I am like the kid who is next in line for the elephant ride at the Bronx Zoo. That means excited, in case you are the second of the two kinds of people in the world: those who want to ride an elephant and those who have no desire whatsoever. David walks me to the tank room, and gives me a little orientation session.
     When he leaves, I shower off, then step into the tank and lie down in a body-temperature solution that contains 1000 pounds of epsom salts. I turn off the little blue light that helps you find your way into the water, lie back, and float in the darkness.
     How do I describe the feeling?
     Would blowtorch to the privates be too strong?
"A Bic® lighter to the loins" definitely understates the sensation. I lie there and wonder if I have perhaps accidentally gotten into one of those tubs that gradually eats away at the flesh. I have a flash of David, annoyed that I have overstayed my appointment time, finally coming to get me and finding that I've completely dissolved.
     Maybe I have died and have been sent to the Spa of Hell, I think, as I try to have that experience where your brain is too spaced out to think anything at all. I think of all the mistakes I've made, all the wrongs I've committed, and I'm just not sure the punishment fits my admittedly many crimes. This seems over the top.
 
I think it would be best to have this story take place in two blog entries. I'll leave you to float for a few days. Try to think about nothing at all.