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JaymieZenFloatCo

Understanding the two-types of stress and how it affects us

zenfloatco stress

When you hear the word stress, what thoughts often come to your mind? For most, I would have to guess a mixture of negative thoughts associated with the word; stress with work, stress about finances, stress about life in general. However, stress is not bad at all.  In a lot of cases, stress can actually be good.  As long as you can change your outlook on how stress affects your life and you can be mindful of why you are experiencing it, stress can be a powerful motivator in your life.  

 

What is stress?

Stress is your body's response to certain situations. Stress is subjective. Something that may be stressful for one person -- speaking in public, for instance -- may not be stressful for someone else. Not all stresses are "bad" either. For example, getting a new job promotion to a management position may be considered a "good" stress.

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Kane Mantyla

Just a Regular Float

The warm, moist air rises from the door that is held at arms length. A brief pause to set my intention, "I will let go of all cares and allow myself to simply be." The water reaches to just below my knee as I take my first step into the viscous solution that will become my bed for the next sixty minutes. My washcloth is in reach…check. My earplugs are in snug…check. My list is complete before darkness envelopes me upon closing the door of the Samadhi Classic Floatation Tank. 

Thirty minutes has now passed. "Has it been thirty minutes, I can't tell" I dreamily think to myself. Straining to focus a single thought is quite humorous when compulsive thinking is a way of life. Determined to grasp the sequence of events I note, "Adjusted for about five minutes, breathed for another five. Was itchy for a bit after that and then…?" Unable to conjure up the next event, and too relaxed to care, I settle back into my breath. 

The salty solution peels back from my sides on my in breath as my chest rises ever so slightly out of the water and then creeps back as the air leaves and the weight of  my body pulls me back in. Slowly I rise and fall to the rhythm of my breath. My breathing is all I can hear except for the occasional pulse of blood from my heart pushing past my ears. It reminds me of lying in bed as a child. I could hear the faint marching of people… or so I thought it was the marching of many until it was later revealed to me that I was hearing my own circulation. Now that made a lot more sense. Sense, what an ironic thought in an environment as empty as the space between here and nowhere.

 And now back to the emptiness of the float pod. The kind of emptiness that is the undivided me. Only empty when peering from the outside, as on the inside, it is I that fills the emptiness. I want to let go again, but know it is this very want that keeps me presently here. If I just let go of that want, I will surrender to the state of being that simply is… nothing. Nothing is what it is. Nothing is where I came from and nothing is where I will go. And this is beautiful.

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