My first Float: What not to do when you go in a float spa pod

I need to preface this article by saying that a lot of people LOVE doing these rejuvenating meditation type experiences. A lot of people NEED these types of experiences because they have kids, roommates or they work in retail. I, on the other hand, spend a lot of my time alone in silence. It is awesome, therefore I feel for those poor people who don’t have the luxury blocking out the world for long stretches of time. Those people, would LOVE the Clear Float Spa.

Now that I have explained to you why you will love the Clear Float Spa – because you need a break from the general unpleasantries of life – let me tell you about my first float and how I ruined it.

I arrived at the Clear Float Spa and the guy walked me through the process. Get naked. Shower. Get in your pod. Close the lid. Relax. 45 minutes later you will emerge with a mind massage. Sounds wonderful.

He also went over a couple of housekeeping things, like there is a bottle of water inside of the pod to use should you get any water in your eyes. You have an option of a light on in the pod or a light off. You can also have ‘music’ or no music. – Easy. I’ve got this.

After completing steps one through four, I’m was on a roll. I was basically a floating prodigy.

Within thirty seconds I made the biggest mistake you can ever make in the pod…I touched my face. Why is that a mistake? Well, because your hands have eighty tonnes of salt on them and once you touch your face…the salt and water is bound to head right for your eyes. So, here I was, lying in this pod with my eye on FIRE trying to figure out how not to go blind.

I frantically reached for the spray bottle to douse my face. It did NOTHING to put out the blaze that was killing my face. A person’s immediate reaction to this feeling (mine, and any 10 year old child) is to rub the affected area with your hands. Which I do, stupidly because my hands are COVERED IN SALT – increasing the burn from an accidental brush with the curling iron to the full fiery force of Hades. Finally, I got out of the pod and rinsed my face in the shower and rub all remaining salt off my face with a towel.

At this point I have been in the pod for one minute. 44 left to go.

I debated calling it a day, but know that my eyes probably look like I got beat in an alley and I shouldn’t let anyone else see them until they’ve had a chance to get themselves back to normal. So, I got back in the pod. The water is fairly warm and I turn off the lights and music. I am now floating in a pod in the pitch black.

I started to have flashbacks to every horror movie I had ever seen that involves water and darkness. Clearly the next thing I started thinking about was a giant shark swimming beneath me (in 8 inches of water, mind you) ready to devour my body.

Now you’re probably thinking, “What the hell is wrong with you?” Well, I have an extremely irrational fear of sharks. If you put me in a swimming pool and turn off the lights I will have a panic attack and assume I am about to be eaten. It’s super f’ed – I know. One day I will finally go to therapy about it, but at this point, I just keep that shit inside and avoid water at night.


I turned the pod light on and tried to figure out how much longer I need to stay here. I figured I had now been in it for five minutes…even though it felt like 20 hours.

I started thinking about all the things, because this is what you do when you are supposed to be clearing your mind and soul – or whatever I was supposed to be doing.

I started to think about the fact that there was no clock in the pod and all I wanted to know is how much longer I needed to stay in here for. Then I started thinking about tanning beds, because they have a timer so you can see how much longer you have to endure stationary silence in the nude. They are basically the same thing as this, except hotter, less sanitary, terrible for your body and if you use them too much you end up looking like a leathered up version of Snooki.

Tanning beds. Great, I was now thinking about the fact that I am pale AF and wish that my skin could be a nice pale. You know, like Snow White or Dita Von Teese. But no, I just have that translucent pasty skin that people look at and think…”You need a vacation. Do you ever go outside? Do you have the ginger skin DNA? Has anyone ever told you to try to get a role on the Walking Dead?” – Yes to all of the above.

I think at this point I was at about 15 minutes. I was doing pretty good. I hadn’t lit my eyes on fire again and was adapting well to being weightless. I decided to turn the lights off and turn the music on.

The music is not ‘music’ per say…as much as it is tones and noises that, mixed with the blackness, made me feel like I was in an 80s space movie. I am floating in space. I am Sandra Bullock in Gravity. I am alone…and eventually I will die (which she would have – let’s be real, that movie was NOT realistic, except for when George Clooney dies, which definitely would have happened).

Then I started to think about all of those people who signed up to go live on Mars. They will also die. Why don’t they just use these float pods? It’s basically the same thing…with less chance of dying. Why would you want to live on Mars? The livefeed stuff that I have seen does not paint a pretty picture.

Does the meditative state usually consist of so many thoughts about death? Because if it does, I think I have made it.

Okay, it’s getting ridiculous. How long had I been in this pod for? My skin started to feel itchy and my body started to reject the floating. I sat up in the pod. Yes, I know, I was ruining my pod experience by not floating in the abyss the whole time, but I just couldn’t do it.

I was now remembering that Sandra Bullock had a really bad haircut in Gravity. Ew, I was just pretending to be Sandra Bullock with bad hair. That’s unfortunate. Hum, speaking of hair, I wonder what all of this salt is going to do to the $5 box hair dye in my hair. I was now concerned about when I was going to have time to re-dye the greys. The stress continued to build until a soothing voice filled the pod telling me my time was up. VICTORY. I had made it all the way to the end of the float.

They say that you need to do three floats to really get the full benefit of the experience. Clearly my first go at the pod was not successful, but maybe one day I will try again.



Jes spends approximately 25% of her income on brunch, really likes to laugh and is certain if Regina George punched her in the face she would not think it was awesome.

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