The synthetic ocean of the floatation tank

There is a synthetic ocean. Its waves lap on the outskirts of Auckland city, and I have been called to bathe in its water. I'm shown into a room with a shower and a car-sized pod, a body of water illuminated by blue LEDs. I undress, I shower, I dip a toe in. It's thick and silky and exactly the temperature of a human body. Lying down, I'm buoyant — like lying on a bed of water. The lid comes down over me. I'm weightless.

Overwhelmed, not deprived

To my surprise the complete silence and pitch black only last a few moments. I find myself not deprived of sense but overwhelmed by them. The voice in my head sounds like it's speaking through an intercom, amplified and distant. I wonder where to direct my attention, and try a simple meditation — slow breaths, in through the nose, out through the mouth. In a sensory deprivation tank, even the sound of slow breathing is loud.

Take away the world and the inner world rushes in to fill the silence.

Like being in a womb

My body wants to move, and it's fun — like being in a womb, kicking off the walls, feeling myself bob on the surface. Then gentle music comes on. An hour has passed, somehow. Opening the shell of the tank, the dim light above the basin is blinding. Stepping out of my private ocean, my body feels supple, new.

I feel that I'll return to answer the call of this ocean again soon.

And I did, and I have, more times than I can count. There's something about a body of water that asks nothing of you — that simply holds you up while you do the quiet work of being still. If you'd like to answer the call yourself, our float rooms are in Grafton, in the heart of Auckland. The intro offer is a good way in.