There are certain times in your life when you will ask yourself, What have I done? The thought usually follows a regrettable decision (getting caught in a lie, suffering an online shopping blackout, forgetting to use your free delivery code from Postmates after ordering from the other side of town, etc.) and is most often accompanied by feelings of horror and extreme dismay.
I happened to ask myself this question as I found myself stepping into a saltwater-filled pod my friend had described as a “space coffin,” lying back, and lowering the lid to enclose myself in it. Suddenly, everything was pitch black and dead silent. And I was floating.
This is the point where one might expect me to say, And then I woke up from my nightmare! or And then I realized I’d never do drugs again. But no—this was real life, I was sober, and I had willingly placed myself in this situation. As horror-inducing as the scenario may sound, it’s actually a very real thing, and it happens to be an amazing stress reliever, among other things.
Say hello to floatation therapy, a wellness trend rising steadily through the ranks to cult status. Keep scrolling to read about my experience and find out if float therapy is for you. (Spoiler: It probably is.)
Floatation therapy (also known as sensory deprivation therapy) has been around since 1954, when a man named John C. Lilly built the first-ever float tank at the National Institute of Mental Health in the Virgin Islands. The idea is that by eliminating your senses (touching, hearing, seeing, smelling), your brain can completely relax and drift. Proponents of the method say benefits can include everything from stress relief to physical and mental healing (it’s particularly good for anyone with joint or back issues) to increased creativity. Cortisone (aka the stress hormone) drops, and dopamine floods your brain. In other words, it’s a drug-free way to make your brain and body feel amazing.
I had my floating experience at Venice, California float studio, Pause. Started by a former Equinox veteran, it’s an airy, tranquil space that feels more like a meditation studio or spa—which isn’t far from the truth, considering there is a small meditation room tucked in the back corner. The meditation expert who walked me through what to expect from my experience (the answer was nothing—she said to go in with an open mind) was incredibly calming and soothing. It soon became clear that my experience would be as much about the mental benefits as the physical ones, if not more so.
There were four private rooms, and I was led to one at the end of the hall—at which point I came face to face with a giant, white, futuristic, pod-looking thing lined with blue LED lighting, placed squarely in the middle of the room. After quickly snapping the pod for my Snapchat story (hence my friend’s “space coffin” comment), I was told to strip down and rinse off in the in-room shower, then close myself into the space coffin—er, float pod—and let my worries melt away.
The float pods at Pause allow you to play ambient music if you’d like, as well as keep the lights on; you can choose from a pink, blue, or green glow. I was determined to experience the true sensation of sensory deprivation, choosing to use earplugs and turn the lights off when I laid back in the pod.
The sensation was…strange. Byrdie’s associate editor Victoria had raved about her floating experience, saying the two hours flew by; that wasn’t exactly the case for me (my session was only an hour, thankfully). The water was about body temperature, and I found it comforting—like I was a fetus wrapped snugly in a salt water–filled womb. I fell asleep or zoned out for the first half before suddenly snapping awake, trying to get my bearings until I realized I couldn’t because I was in a pitch-black pod.
After the initial zone-out, I couldn’t quite get to that level of zen, and I found myself wondering how long I had been in there. I’d lost all concept of time—it felt like I could have been in there for days, minus the fact that I most certainly would have been screaming out of hunger and thirst if that had been the case.
Slightly out of desperation, I turned the dial to my right until soft, ambient music filled the pod. Even though the point is that all your senses should be deprived, I found that the music immediately helped ease my mind, and I began drifting off again…until the pod flooded with light and a pleasant British voice came on: “Hello. Your float session is now over.”
As I rinsed myself off in the shower (which came with a nice assortment of organic hair and body products), I tried to analyze what had just happened. Did I feel more relaxed? Slightly. What did I feel about the experience itself? Unsure. Would I do it again? Debatable.
When I walked back into the lobby, I was greeted with a steaming cup of turmeric tea—a little treat for everyone who floats at Pause. I sipped the soothing tea and chatted with the owner, suddenly aware of the fact that I felt happier and more relaxed than I had in ages.
“A lot of people say they feel like they’ve just gone through an intense workout,” he said. And that’s when I realized that’s exactly how I felt. Imagine that high you get after a particularly grueling SoulCycle (or barre, or any workout) class. Your limbs are loose, your mind is refreshed, and you feel light as air—and inexplicably happy. That’s what you'll feel after one float session at Pause.
As I drove home from Venice to Downtown Los Angeles that night, I still felt like I was floating, in both mind and spirit. I felt the strong urge to crank up the volume and blast a tune (Blood Orange’s album Freetown Sound was the choice du jour), and I nodded along to Dev Hynes’ crooning, blissed out and completely unperturbed by the LA traffic that usually elicits a feeling more akin to road rage within me.
So, would I go again? The answer is a resounding yes. It’s by no means wallet-friendly—one session will set you back $85 ($75 for first-timers)—but the feeling you get when you emerge is invaluable for anyone feeling stressed, overwhelmed, or in need of physical or mental healing. In other words: everyone. Float on.
Would you ever try floatation therapy? Tell us your experiences below!