You’ll have to try it out before you can work here,” my new boss gestured towards the row of doors.
Working in a floatation therapy center, I encountered many motivations for clambering into the dark, soundless, watery pods that are the floatation tanks. Clients came and returned to floating to ease pregnancy aches and pains, unwind stiff muscles post-workout, as part of a detox and many, simply, for the thrill, as an anniversary date or a girl’s day out.
I’d heard of the potential mental health benefits, though the customers whom would admit to you that this is why they were floatation-devotees were few and far between.
“My therapist recommended I try it for anxiety,” a female customer once told me. “I’ve been coming once a month. It’s like a booster shot.”
Before my first floating experience, I was a skeptic
To me, it was a task to complete in order to commence my new employment at the center.
Entering and locking the room, I showered as I listened to the soothing, bamboo music, eyeing the floatation tank that sat there ominously in the other corner of the room.
These tanks tend to be fiberglass, futuristic things. They are like a Space Age cocoon, roughly half the size of a car.