In this ongoing series, Pulse contributor Steve Morley explores the effects of sensory deprivation and reports on his experiences using the flotation tanks and other therapeutic resources at Murfreesboro’s Float Alchemy. (Previous installments can be found at boropulse.com/floativation).
A quick summary of events since beginning this series in the October issue of the Pulse: After three sessions in a flotation tank, at two-week intervals, I increased my ability to relax and clear my mind while sequestered for an hour inside a silent, darkened tank, floating upon water a foot deep and containing about 1,000 pounds of salt. The routine started to become familiar, which naturally helped to increase my comfort level. I looked increasingly forward to my visits to Float Alchemy, not only to use the tanks but also to enjoy the peaceful, therapeutic and friendly vibe there.
As I’ve previously noted, relaxation (physical or mental) has never come easily for me, and even when I manage it, it’s far easier to lose it than find it again. Something kicked in, however, after float number three—I enjoyed 20 or so days of greater emotional ease, less likely to experience the anxiety, extreme sensitivity and irritation I’ve long been prone to. I got an extended taste of what it feels like to be more comfortable in my own skin.
Now, that’s not to say I never faltered, but overall I could feel the improvement. So could my wife. I felt more relaxed. I found it easier to communicate peaceably with my wife, and less stressful to deal with everyday frustrations. It felt good.
Then . . . like in the movies, when a crisis inevitably arises and ratchets the tension up a few notches, just as it had begun to seem like everything was hunky-dory, I found myself facing the challenge of a new temp assignment I felt uncomfortable about starting: a customer service rep answering calls for a major insurance provider. While I never actually “lost” the benefits gained from floating, my stress and anxiety levels rocketed for a period of time as I struggled to adjust to an unfamiliar setting, loaded with new expectations to meet. I longed to feel the ease I’d felt just weeks before. I continued my float sessions every two to three weeks, and kept going deeper into relaxation, eventually even falling asleep in the tank.
In retrospect, I’m inclined to believe that my previous period of relatively low anxiety, one I attribute largely to the effect of the float tanks, helped to get me through the bumpiest parts of the job adjustment process. I endured in a situation that sometimes felt overwhelming. Somewhere deep inside myself I found the ability to think positively and overcome recurring bouts of doubt, anger and anxiety. Could I have perhaps cultivated or increased this ability by giving my brain and nervous system a peek at greater emotional well-being, floating in a quiet stillness that prompted unusually deep relaxation?
I’ve barely scratched the surface of considerable research offering evidence of floating’s positive effects, but I have gotten the CliffsNotes, in a sense, from conversations with Float Alchemy owner Amy Grimes. Within the variety of services available are, as Grimes simply puts it, “things that can help people to feel better and gain confidence.” (Check it out at floatalchemy.com, or stop in sometime to look around.) “When we feel good, no matter what has been keeping us from feeling good,” Grimes continues, “we can do great things.
“When you have a bad day, you don’t stand in this world in the same way you do if you woke up and (realized) ‘oh, that pain that I had? It’s gone,’ or ‘that anxiety that I was feeling, where my heart felt like it was being crushed in my chest, and that shallow breathing, I’m not dealing with that today.’ So you can go out and interact with the world in a way that is a lot more authentic to who you are.”
I can attest to this, in fact. While in my initial breakthrough phase, I found myself maintaining an unusual peace while lost on a road trip to a performance I was booked to participate in. The biggest issue was that it was beginning to get dark out, and I still had miles to go to find a concert location that was on an unmarked rural road (and had no cellphone reception!) in Red Boiling Springs. Amazingly, I kept my cool, got back on track, and made it to the gig with time left to spare. That adventure would likely have frazzled me on an earlier occasion, but I found myself at ease, even interacting more comfortably than usual with others I encountered at the gig site. If this is really the authentic me, I’m interested in seeing more.
All that being said, I’m a person dealing with sometimes vague symptoms centered in the emotional realm, a murky place to explore. Physical pain, though, is a different matter. Grimes asserts that floating can, and does, help folks who suffer from stress or anxiety, but she can tell you from firsthand experience that tank time is a powerful tool for pain relief.
For more than two decades, Grimes dealt with chronic, undiagnosed abdominal pain, sometimes in episodes so excruciating she could do nothing but lie on the floor and weep. During one such flare-up while on an out-of-town business trip, she chanced upon a masseuse who owned a flotation tank and suggested it might offer more relief than a massage. Grimes’ recovery took years, but floating was a key factor in freeing her from ongoing pain—ultimately fueling her drive to bring flotation tanks to Tennessee. Initially accomplished with Float Nashville, and later expanded upon with Float Alchemy, the process of opening both centers proved to be laden with extended delays and obstacles.
Having now realized her goal in opening Float Alchemy, Grimes now maintains her daily mission, offering tools for pain relief that, for some, are just what the doctor didn’t order. “You have people come in who’ve had pain, and they’ve been to doctor after doctor after doctor, and they’re just looking for some relief,” Grimes explains. “They’re not sleeping well, and when you don’t sleep well it exacerbates the pain.
“They call in the next day, and they say, ‘Hey, I was able to sleep well, my pain level is down five points and I’m moving around. When can I come back?” And to be able to give them something that helps them . . . it’s what we live for.”
As for myself, the fact that I definitely experienced a period of noticeable relief from emotional unrest gives me hope that I’ll again reach a state of more consistent calm. And, in small ways that almost escape notice, I’ll occasionally realize I’m responding differently to a potential stressor. Changing lifelong patterns—especially ones that I’m barely conscious of—is a gradual process, but time spent in the tank seems to reveal new possibilities to my nervous system, baby step by baby step.
Stay tuned, Murfreesboro, and may the freedom of the float be with you.
___
