FLOATER

The first reference to the word Floater was in the U.S.A. in 1890 and was a slang to describe a body found face down in swamps and creeks. 

This piece is nothing about that. 

It was a beautiful Saturday afternoon and I walked through the Bullring-Market to say hello and tell them I would be back for my usual - coffee, flowers, herbs, cake. I am on my way to lie down in a dark space filled with warm water and turn off for a while.

“You have NO off switch, Michelle” shouted a man once as he hurled clothes into a case.

For some the idea of floating in a soundproof tank completely cut off from the world sounds like Nirvana, but for others it sounds like a claustrophobic nightmare. This treatment was first developed more than half a century ago, yet there is still an air of mystery surrounding it. Understanding what the treatment involves will help you to determine if you would love it all up or prefer to eat your own foot.

Flotation therapy is a process of sensory deprivation. It was developed in 1954 by an American psychoanalyst and Neuro-physicist called Dr. John C. Lilly.  He developed the isolation tanks after he discovered that when immersed in the tanks, rather than going into a sleep state, the mind becomes active.

I had heard about these tanks back in the 80’s on a radio programme and thought –

those crazy Calafornian hippies ! What will they be at next?”

And now I am DOING it.

During the process your body is placed into a state of total relaxation. The water in the tank is specially made up with salts and minerals which allow the body to float. The theory is that while we are living our day to day lives we are prone to experiencing stress and conflict, and we therefore develop coping mechanisms to handle these strains such as smoking or drinking alcohol.

Ahem.

Because you are cut off from interference like the sights and sounds of your every day waking life, your body has a chance to break these habits and regenerate while you are still conscious.

Firstly, it is NOT like a coffin and you will not panic and claw the walls frantically while screaming yourself hoarse. It’s more like a room, and you have a separate shower and can lock the door while you are in your nudiness. I had thought my togs might be in flitters from the salt anyway, but I am told it is more freeing.

Quineta , the therapist talks me through the process, the cleaning and maintenance of the unit, and explains about the salts in the tank and that you must shower before and after to rid oneself of the tell -tale  tide -mark of white powder that will be in your hairline and ears if you are not vigilant.

She opens the glass door and I expect a deluge similar to the parting of the Red Sea to come thundering out and I stare at the tank and say – “where is the water?”

It is so flat calm as to be almost undetectable and is less than a foot deep.

You couldn’t drown in this if you tried.

 So, that’s an added bonus.

I strip and get in. It is warm. There is a mat under your feet to stop you sliding around the gaff while the body attempts to float. I wait for something to happen. 

And then I realise that my arms and legs are raised and floating and the only part of me anchored to the water is my head on the neck pillow.

The week before, I had been standing under a jet in the thermal suite of a spa, shouting at my sister over the roaring of the white noise that I am doing her “worst nightmare” at the weekend. She has had a lifelong fear of enclosed spaces, which she attributes directly to me locking her in a wardrobe and terrorising her with a flat faced doll named Roberta, as a child.  And yet she applauds me as I float around the thermal suite, a skill I have only added to my repertoire in the last week. Despite preaching and ranting about surrender , acceptance, being and trust, I had never let myself  fully relax in the water since almost drowning as a child, and would never put my face in.

Apart from once in a Mineral-Bade  in Stuttgart to the delight of hundreds of naked Germans who gave me a standing ovation.

During the August heat-wave, I had been submerged in the waters off St. Helens Bay and after some quiet words of encouragement, for my  very first time on the planet, in this lifetime, had relaxed and let GO and felt myself supported by a presence, an energy, the sea.

My mind races in the tank, and then slows and stills and I regulate my breathing and tear the pillow from under my neck. I submerge my head and unclench the muscles in my neck and lay back completely, my ears filled with the soft silky water.

It is bliss.

After roughly  an hour has passed I sit up to have a bit of a play. Splashing the water up and down with both hands like a 3 year old, feeling the magnetic pull, the surface tension making it look as if my fingers are plunging into a gel, surveying the size of the hill of my stomach in the half light. Quineta has turned off the blue bulbs so that I am in darkness but there is a sliver of light coming under the door. Enough for me to see the stomach and whisper “It’s been a blast baby, but goodbye” -

The treatment can take up to two hours, during which time you are completely cut off from physical stimulation. Because the body has no stimuli to react to stress levels drop. Production of adrenaline and Cortisil in the blood is reduced and Endorphins are released acting as a natural painkiller and creating a sense of deep relaxation. The therapy is beneficial to anyone suffering from chronic pain, hypertension, muscle tension, headaches, anxiety and psycho-physiological problems .

I did not go back to the market, I went home and slept.

Facedown.

WEXFORD FLOATATION  THERAPY – Commercial Quay, Wexford. (05391) 21050