First experience in an isolation tank

[Originally posted on 10:34 pm, Saturday, Nov 24, 2007]

Matt and I went to Chicago today, mainly for an appointment at noon in the isolation tanks that I had been endlessly wanting to go to.

The first 10-15 minutes or so, my mind was racing with various thoughts, I can't even remember most of them... this was one of those times where I wish I had a tape recorder for my brain. Nothing really stuck out, but my thoughts mainly centered around my future and what I was going to do for the rest of my life... there was a lot of wondering, but I didn't really come to much of a conclusion. There was just still a lot of wondering of whether I wanted to do what I enjoyed doing (computer graphics), or living my life to the fullest (doing something that centered on traveling, meeting various people, etc.).

The time period after that my thoughts drifted more from personal ideas to a broader scale. I still had yet to experience anything new in my head, but my mind did head back to something I had thought about a few days ago... the idea of relationships, and what truly determines what a relationship consists of. Obviously there is the person to person relationship that you witness daily; lovers, friends, family, etc. But there is also the relationship that a person has with an object; such as a man loving his car... sometimes you see that, and it's to the point where the man loves the car more than a person, such as a significant other/girlfriend. Does the car hold just as much value for a relationship as the female person? What determines that? The main difference between the two is really the fact that the man can physically interact with the person, and have a back and forth conversation. But if the man has a "conversation" with something such as a car (it can be any number of things... objects, machines, etc.), technically he is talking to himself, and he can discover just as much from that. It might seem like a simple answer... an actual companion would be much more legit than an automobile, but I don't know. What makes a person love a machine more than another human being, like in said example?

Throughout all this, however, looking at the physical side of the experience, I'm pretty sure it was the most relaxed my body's been since... forever. We've all experienced so much force from gravity that we've been trained to have our bodies act a certain way, and this is the first time I've been relieved of that burden (for lack of better words) since I've been in the womb... which is really extraordinary if you think about it. It actually took about 20 minutes being in the isolation tank before I realized that my body was fully and completely relaxed... I had become so accustomed to being tense all the time that I didn't even really notice it anymore until being in an environment where gravity no longer appeared to play a factor.

It was obviously also the first time where I was completely void of all my senses. It's easy to think about, but it's not until you experience it that you really understand what it's like. Upon entering the tank, my eyes were closed for almost the first, I'd guess, half hour or so... it was just instinct... when you go to bed, it's pretty much the only time that you're in an environment daily where it's the closest to being pitch black. After I finally realized that my eyes had been closed the entire time (much like the whole relaxing my body/dealing with gravity thing... you become so conditioned to something that you don't even notice it anymore), I opened my eyes... and absolutely nothing changed (I guess I should have expected that but still...). My eyes had become completely useless. Opening and closing my eyes, I saw exactly the same thing. Now I just simply had two spheres rolling around in my skull. I also had ear plugs, which only accented the loss of my auditory senses. After a period of time, something I usually never ever notice, such as my breathing, became so significant. Swallowing became so apparently loud that after I while, I just allowed the saliva to collect in my mouth, as to not provoke the senses again. The water seemed to blend in with my skin, and it really felt like I was floating in space; although there was no burden of taking up any. Occasionally I would softly bump into the side of the tank, and again, something that I usually wouldn't notice at all in the regular environment that I'm used to, seemed like an alarm almost.

Another factor that completely changed, or should I say disappeared, was time. Just the idea of it was no longer apparent while I was in the tank; it didn't matter any more... what's the point of keeping track of time while I was in there? Really, it's nothing more than an organizational tool (quoting Matt)... it's there only if you want it to be.

There's so much more that I want to remember and write down, but I just simply can't because it was lost when I walked out of that place. But it was definitely a new and exciting experience and I plan on going back there. And I recommend anyone going to Chicago to try the experience out for themselves.

I need to check out the book/movie "Altered States" by Paddy Chayefsky/Sidney Aaron. It's about John C. Lilly's experiences in the isolation tanks on various drugs, mainly LSD, and apparently they're very good.