Are you running low on funds, but you still want to build an isolation tank? Here is a creative way to get your tank built.

Artists have always had a fascination with sensory deprivation and for good reason. Great art is created through focus and concentration, two abilities a floatation tank enables the user to harness with uncommon strength. However, due the cost of building a tank and the extra cost of having somewhere to store it, many people who would love to have a floatation tank simply cannot.

This is where a bit of ingenuity comes in. (by the way, I know this works because I did it) Try contacting your local art gallery and propose an exhibit of work inspired by time spent inside a sensory deprivation tank. Trust me, they will jump on it. Galleries are always looking for some kind of hook to snag new visitors and nothing garners interest like a floatation tank.

Have you ever blamed past experiences for your present reality? If so, read on.

I was listening to a book recently when a guy rambled off a series of challenging situations in a person’s life. For example, “My parents divorced when I was six. My father wasn’t around much when I was a kid. My mother was very ‘cold’ towards me. My parents never praised me for my accomplishments” The author in the book then said, “So what? The question isn’t what happened in your life. It’s what are you going to do about it now.” I am writing about this notion of “moving on” because it’s an important topic in many people’s lives.

Mary Oliver, a well known poet, wrote a poem about this topic. In Black Water Pond she writes, “The past is the past and the present is what your live is, and you are fully capable of choosing what that will be, darling citizen.”

How can you move on from patterns developed in the past?

Written by Megan Henry

I had heard of floating while I was out training in Park City, Utah preparing for a skeleton race during USA Skeleton Team Trials as an athlete for the Army. Skeleton, it’s that crazy winter sport where you go head first down an icy chute on a lunch tray…a really expensive lunch tray. A massage therapist was telling me about a sensory deprivation chamber in Orem, UT. It was a bit far for me to go during the races, but I made a mental note to look it up when I returned home in the off-season to see what I could find. I was elated to find iFloat and read the benefits on the site and spent months eager to try floating and add it to compliment my growing repertoire of healing and recovery methods. Plus, who doesn’t like giant Epsom salt baths? Bonus points for muscle recovery, right?

As you can imagine, going headfirst at speeds up to 80mph and traveling every week for 6 months can get a little crazy. I love it, don’t get me wrong, but it can get hectic. I have been an athlete most of my life, but skeleton is by far the most mentally demanding and challenging sport I have ever taken part in. I had started to use meditation as part of my mental routine to help me relax. I wouldn’t consider myself an overly stressed person, but I think relaxation is necessary for everyone regardless of what you do. Skeleton, in particular, requires you to be in what some call “relaxed chaos.” If you want to be successful, you have to be capable of being relaxed while going up to 80mph in curves up to 5G’s of pressure. Any sort of outside stress, anxiety, self-doubt or tension will creep into your sliding and show up on the time sheets. Maybe you won’t see it physically, but believe me, it shows in your times – even if you have a stellar run.

Floating for the first time was the ultimate meditation session. It allowed me to feel like I was floating in space (gee, wonder why it’s called floating?) and it was the first time I have ever felt like I left the planet. You know when you want some me time, but someone always comes to your thinking-spot-of-solitude? It’s not happening here. Floating allowed me to have moments of self-reflection and come to epiphanies I may not have come to without all the other external distractions we sometimes let take our focus. Even during meditation, there is still the sense of touch or external noises. This session allowed me to take leaps of personal growth – like my brain was my own personal psychiatrist…it just needed to be given the opportunity to uncover some mental gems. This part for me was truly rewarding.