Thursday, November 29, 2007

Float on

"Has anyone ever seen the Simpsons episode where Homer and Lisa spend time in something called a float tank?"

A few heads nod slowly. "Is that the one where Lisa really trips out," one student asks, "and sees all these weird colors and lights?"

"Yeah, that one," I say.

"I don't watch TV," another student says.

"Hey, that's good," I say. "But anyway, flotation is this thing where you lay down in this box-like thing filled with salt water. There's no light, so it's completely dark in there, and there's no sound, so you can't hear anything. It's really cool."

A few kids seem to understand, but most wonder what I'm getting at. It's a few minutes before the bell, and I like to make small talk. Everyone seems to be paying attention.

"Well," I say, "last night I spent an hour in one of those tanks. Ever since I saw that Simpons episode, I wanted to try, and so last night I did. An hour of floating in complete darkness."

"I have a question," one kid asks. He's a kid who is rarely interested in anything I talk about.

"Sure," I say. Maybe he's intrigued. Maybe I'm finally connecting.

"Do you have any friends?"

The whole class laughs.

"I mean, shit," he continues. "You wouldn't catch me spending an hour in a tank like that. But I guess that's because I have friends."

The laughter continues. I join in. "Maybe you're right," I say. "Maybe I just don't have any friends."

5 comments:

Anonymous said...

I don't really know what to say to this - other than that I'm jealous that you got to chill in a float tank! What was it like?

Anonymous said...

Yeah, did you trip, go insane, or turn into William Hurt?

teacherman said...

Thanks for asking.

I have to say, I have probably never experienced anything that I simultaneously loved and hated as much as I did floating. It was the best of experiences, it was the worst of experiences.

First of all, when I closed the door behind me and lay back into the darkness, it really felt like I was spinning, spinning, spinning into a void. I had to reach my arms out to feel the walls, to steady myself and stop spinning. But as soon as I released, I felt that I was moving again, this time sliding backwards like on a water slide. In complete darkness. I had to sit up and feel for the door. Sure enough it was right where it should be, right at my feet. So I hadn't in fact spun or moved at all. I lay back down.

For a while, nothing happened. Just the same old thoughts. I actually thought about my bowling team. We had bowled just an hour earlier. Lost. Thought about lesson plans for the coming days. And then I started getting angry at myself, wondering when the coolness would begin. Where were the visions? Was I really spending all this money to just float in salt water and think the same thoughts I always think? Many minutes passed, though I was pretty sure it was only a couple. I almost thought about abandoning the tank. But I kept at it.

Just as I was relaxing, letting my mind go, I got this insane itch in my nose. Don't touch it, don't touch it, don't touch it, I thought. But of course the more I thought about not touching it the more certain I was that I would touch it. So I lifted my right hand out of the water, shook off the water, and scratched, actually dug into my nose. Big mistake. Probably only a single drop of the water entered my nose, but it burned all the way down, down into my throat and mouth and I started gagging on the retched, burning, nasty salt water taste of it. I tried to let it pass, but I couldn't. So I sat up again, opened the door, grabbed a towel and rubbed my face dry. Damn it. I was wasting precious time.

I went back in. This time, I started really moving in the water. I kept slowly bouncing into the walls. I'd ever so slightly push myself off and eventually bounce into another wall. When that eventually stopped, I started hearing things. First, my heart. I heard it loudly, clearly. I was going fast. Then, it started really booming in my ears, with a deep, bass sound. I cracked my knuckles and the sound was a distinct treble ping. Different from the way it normally sounds. So I spent a few minutes trying to crack the knuckles in my hands and feet. Each time, ping! Then, I started making little noises with my mouth, just to hear the different effects. One of the more interesting ones was when I slowly, slightly gnashed my teeth. I probably did that for a good long time.

Then, I noticed my breathing. When I breathed in, my entire body bobbed out of the water. When I breathed out, I slowly sank into the water. In, out, in, out, I felt like I was just bobbing around in an ocean. I tried to picture myself in the ocean, floating on my back somewhere in Thailand or Belize. It was a pleasant thought, except that I really wished I were there, not alone in a tank. I missed the sounds of the ocean, birds, people. But I just kept bobbing away.

After a while I focused on the smell. Salt. Rubber. It wasn't pleasant.

At one point, I felt a cool breeze hit my face. I must have floated near the vent. It felt and smelled better. I tried to make sure I stayed in that spot, but I quickly lost that breeze, never to find it again.

I wondered about eternity. I imagined that this is what eternity might be like: a peaceful, quiet floating that's unbelievably boring. I knew the attendant would eventually come and knock on the wall to let me know the hour was up, but I completely lost track of time. Time no longer mattered or existed. I was in eternity.

When he did come and knock, I was disappointed. While in the tank, I thought it would never end, but when it did end, I couldn't believe that it ended so quickly. An hour was over. I can see how some people get hooked on it.

My initial thought was that I would probably never want to do that again. On the other hand, I was glad I did do it, and I would recommend it to everyone. It's one of those things people should probably try once. Sort of like going to House on the Rock in Wisconsin. A slow melting away of sanity that deprives you of the ability to use your own senses.

Any other questions?

Anonymous said...

Where did you do this at?

middleson said...

there was a good article on doing this in an old "Chicago Anti-Social" in the Reader.