I was safe and comfortable
Before I first floated, I wondered if it would be a claustrophobic experience. But moments after I slipped into the warm and welcoming water, I quickly knew I was safe and comfortable. Claustrophobia never again crossed my mind.
Floating has become, for me, a long-lasting occasion of liberation, a cleaning of the windows that look inward. Alone in this silent sanctuary, this place of immunity, I realize an ability to cherish small and subtle things. I observe my mind, I hear only my own thoughts, I experience the sensations of the body. I take time to make myself extremely comfortable.
I become meditative.
And before long, I am able to peel back layer after layer of armor that I’ve erected to protect myself from the external world and see its illusions, pretensions, and defenses for what they are. I discover insights and remember wise words that I will carry with me long after I’ve emerged from this excursion back to the womb. I recall the truth that every action you take, no matter how small, is a vote for the kind of person you will be a year from now and that those tiny steps can add up to important changes.
Or the understanding that creative work comes best from a place of truth deep within one’s self, because people will instinctively sense what’s in the soul.
Or the spiritual insight that prayer has nothing to do with religion, but is akin to making a Bluetooth connection between a sound source and a speaker that’s ready to pair: when the pairing is complete, then the channel is always open for communication between yourself and the universe.
Or that fear is praying to the wrong god.
Or that failure is present in the mind long before it’s an actual result which is true of success as well.
The space where I am able to connect with my own truth.
Floating is quite self-motivational for me including the motivation to make an appointment to float again as soon as I find myself calling myself, asking myself to come back to the space where I am able to connect with my own truth.
