The Year of the Hummingbird Series: June

Sabriya Charles, Founder and Life Discovery Expert

“Surrender your mind…surrender your body…just be. Just float into life.” I spoke to myself with calmness yet a sense of urgency as I wanted to be present as much as I could in space in time. Despite hearing my own heart rate, feeling my tummy tumble, and experiencing the very real fear of getting salt in my eyes, I was doing my best to, “Just be.”

In my SpongeBob narrator voice: 30…minutes…later…

My head was spinning as the staff lady rattled off the instructions for getting inside of this big egg-shaped tank to be filled with saltwater. She said something about showering and hair, ear plugs, and salt, I was sure. I did my best to recap what she said to me, and we agreed that the main next step for me was to get into the shower. Although clothing was optional for this experience, I decided to keep my bathing suit on. So after a bath-suit shower and thoroughly rinsing hair, I slowly entered the tank as it filled with water.

My neck was immediately tense. I was nervous. I pulled the tank cover down until there was a crack where I could still see the outside world and escape if I needed to. The lights had not been turned off yet. My heart was racing. 

I tried to take my thoughts away from a long ago childhood fear, baths. I used to be afraid fishes and eels would be in the water with me, swimming around my body and feet. I would have to inspect all bath water before getting in each time. I even hated the mechanical fish. It just weirded me out! This float tank was a saltwater tank, and it was plausible that fish would enjoy being in there, but I reminded myself that there was a good chance that it was just water. Even when the bubbles tickled under my back and feet, giving me the feeling of pseudo-fish.

As the water stopped, the music played. I still found myself laying in the tank awkwardly. My neck was hurting, and I was trying to avoid floating around hitting the sides. I kept trying to relax my head, yet I was afraid it would not float. Suddenly the lights began to dim, and my vision became limited. The music died down, the lights dimmed, and this was when the real float was to begin. 

Finally, I convinced myself that I would not go under, and relaxed my tense neck. The first 10-20 minutes was finding ways to adjust my hands. I felt my body outside of the water get chilly, so I kept trying to pull limbs further into the body temperature water. By the 20-minute mark, I had gotten a comfortable float going. Another big fear I have, I am terrified of the dark. 

I kept attempting to open my eyes to make something of the darkness with only the slightest of light, however, I could not. If I kept trying, my mind would likely play tricks on me, and I would probably scare myself even more. I worked to close my eyes and pull my focus inward. Slowly I could hear my heart rate. And the occasional stomach gurgle. I ate prior to, so I know I was not hungry!

“Oh gosh, I am so helpless in this tank. Please, let no killers come into this building.” Silly thoughts that passed as I laughed them off. It was possible though! 

I began to talk to God. I began to think. I prayed for some divine ideas. I reflected on my life. So much had happened in the last few years. Huge moves, marriage, growth, change. Maybe this was the space where I could think of what was next for my life. Weirdly enough, I kept finding my mind go back blank. I began to feel this feeling inside that I needed to surrender to the nothingness. I began to just allow my body to become limp and my mind to deactivate and for just a few minutes, there was a nirvana approaching. The nirvana of surrender. 

Nothingness, nothingness, nothingness. Giving myself to nothingness.

There was a freedom there. A freedom to just be one with the moment.

That moment was short lived as my earplug suddenly unsecured itself in the pressure of the water and I found myself using the spare cloth to clean the salt from my ear as I attempted to reattach the plug. I had to open the tank, to re-activate the light so I could see what I was doing. This earplug fix worked again…briefly. My calm, however, was disrupted. My focus began to break. When I finally got back into a float position, my bladder decided to knock on the door. I just knew I should have gone after the orientation, but we know how our nerves suppress the bladder. I kept trying to find that short bit of nirvana again, but my body was not having it. About 50 minutes in, I realize I cannot take it anymore. 

I hop out to find relief and that concludes my float experience. Would I do it again? I am not sure yet. I think the first time you spend adjusting but the second time, you really must face your thoughts and yourself. Will my mind be prepared for that? This was one of my most out-of-the-box experiences I have done in the series. I am proud I took this leap. This deeply vulnerable leap. 

When we surrender to the moment, it is only then that we can become one with life and experience a mind clear of the chaos. We need living nothingness to calm the jungle of the world.

Thank you to Float8 SoDo for allowing me to challenge myself with the silence and the art of “just being!”