Flotation therapy allows you to leave your stress — and your arms and legs and ears and eyes — behind.

 LEWISTON – Everything about the flotation therapy pod is inviting, at least on paper.

The temperature of its water is a constant 93.5 degrees, the same as my skin.

The water is dosed with 1,100 pounds of Epsom salt, which will allow me to float effortlessly inside the womb-like chamber.

There is no light in there to stab my eyes. There is virtually no sound to distract the brain from its meditative state.

“Zero gravity,” the Revelation Massage pamphlet promises. “Zero stress.”

Even business owner Kimberly Jacques has a soothing way about her as she ushers me to the float lounge, her voice never rising above the tone of a lullaby.

“One hour in the pod,” she tells me, “is like four hours in deep sleep.”

Mmm. Nice. Who wouldn’t want that?

So why, then, am I so hesitant to crawl into the float pod’s gaping maw?

It’s simple, really. My brain, which tends to twitch and crackle like bacon on a skillet in even its quietest moments, is terrified at the prospect of being on its own.

Which is kind of the point of flotation therapy.

“You really unplug in there,” says Jeff Jacques, Kimberly’s husband and a man who has been fascinated with the pods for two decades. “It’s floating meditation.”

Although soft music and soft light are optional inside the pods, the Jacques do not recommend them. The preferred way of floating is in complete silence and utter darkness, taking the eyes and ears right out of the equation, along with pretty much everything else, including forces of nature.

Kimberly explains: In water that is saltier than the Dead Sea, the body will float in such a way that, for the first time ever, the brain no longer has to process the sensation of gravity.

“You float like a cork,” she says.

With the water at skin temperature, the very sensation of flesh likewise vanishes.

“This harmony between water and skin plays with your ability to perceive where your body ends and where the water and air begin,” according to the float lounge fact sheet.

Inside the pod, 90 percent of neuromuscular activity vanishes, we’re told. Unencumbered by the clamor of the outside world, the brain shifts waves from beta to lower frequencies: alpha, theta or even delta waves.

“These are states of alert consciousness that take Zen monks some 20 years to generate at will,” according to the fact sheet.

Inside the pod, it’s meant to be just you and your thoughts, floating eye-less, ear-less and limbless in a vast, dark realm.

Or something. It’s freaking me out, and as I ease into the mouth of the pod, I wonder if I’ll be able to relax for even five minutes before my free-floating thoughts drive me back into the world of light and noise.

Then the lid comes down and darkness with it. I lie back into those 10 inches of water and find that floating isn’t something I have to work at; it’s something that just happens. The salty water holds me up like a soft hand, and after a second or two, I forget it’s there at all.

Silence swallows you, and it’s an otherworldly silence, so unlike any familiar experience, the brain at first has trouble adjusting to it.

A note about the flotation pods: These are not deprivation chambers like those made famous by television shows like “Fringe” or “Stranger Things.” After a few moments of what seems like seamless silence, I became aware of the faint drone of Main Street traffic outside. There were the occasional thumps of footsteps from other parts of the building.

What eliminates these distractions entirely are the foam ear plugs offered at the start of the pod experience. With those in place, the silence is complete and the brain resumes its barely-awake exploration of itself.

Weird things begin to happen.

Have I been in here five minutes or an hour? Is my head facing the door or is it down at the other end? Do I even have a head? Does it matter?

The quieting of the brain, for me, happened when I stopped questioning whether it would or would not happen. One moment I was thinking intently about the pod that had swallowed me, and the next moment I was aware I felt barely awake and seemed to be half dreaming. The birdshot nature of my day-to-day thinking process smoothed into something more precise. Instead of a hundred random thoughts floating around in my head, I now seemed to have one tiny but brilliant dot that was ALL of my thoughts existing in one place at the same time: a hyper-focused super-thought.

It was freaky, to be sure, and yet strangely relaxing. With no effort from me, my emotional state went from stress to no stress and then to a point that was perhaps the polar opposite of stress. Endorphins moved in and had their way with me. I stopped wondering whether I was more awake or asleep, and simply floated; just me and my laser beam thoughts on vacation together in deep space.

Some people, I’m told, will spend up to 90 minutes in a pod before the soft stirring of music alerts them that their time is up. That’s 90 minutes alone with one’s thoughts, a span of time that’s very likely unattainable for the likes of me.

I spent right around 20 minutes in the flotation pod before I began to experience a kind of meditation overload. My thoughts, which had been so beautifully coalesced, began to drift apart. The weird silence that had descended on my brain started showing cracks and the clamor of conscious thought crept through them. I was back to wondering where my head was; where my feet were and how easily I could reach the door.

I was back to bacon sizzling and jumping on the skillet.

Back when I used to meditate the old-fashioned way, 20 minutes was my outer limit. So my experience in the pod was just right. At the same time, I can understand why others crave more time in the pod where they are isolated from the day-to-day distractions of the world that so weary the brain.

The benefits, according to some studies, go beyond the simple relaxation that comes with near-sensory deprivation. The Epsom-salted water alone is good for you, raising levels of magnesium, which can improve circulation, ease muscle pain and regulate the body’s electrolytes.

According to the Revelation Massage literature, one hour of floating therapy has detoxing properties as effective as four days of fasting.

Additionally, the experience is said to release natural mood-enhancing endorphins, enhance the quality of sleep and boost immunity.

Can float therapy make one look and feel younger? Some believe it’s so. Perhaps that’s why Patriot’s quarterback Tom Brady is a fan, and in fact uses the same model tank in operation at Revelation. It may also explain why that dude doesn’t appear to have aged over the past decade.

“Most people report looking younger after an hour of floating,” according to the fact sheet, “and first-time floaters remark feeling happier, healthier, more positive and confident, as well as an increase in sensory awareness for several days after floating.”

I did feel considerably more relaxed upon exiting the pod and my brain felt less chaotic and more efficient, like a computer that has been defragged and rebooted.

Sadly, Main Street was just beyond the door, an immediate reminder that the outside world is still a very loud and bright and frantic place. Car horns, squealing tires, the mad static of a thousand voices talking all at once . . .

It’s kind of ironic that after my initial wariness about the pod, the cacophony of the every day world now had me wishing for just 10 minutes more of that peaceful suspension.

The human brain, my friends. It really is a wonder.

Float therapy by the numbers:

93.5: water temperature inside the pod and the body’s normal skin temp. 

1,100: pounds of Epsom salt in the water, which allows the body to easily float.

1 hour: The detoxing properties of a 1-hour float are as effective as a 4-day fast.

1 hour: of floating is equivalent to 4 hours of deep, restful REM sleep.

90: percentage of neuromuscular activity one can leave behind while floating.

Source: Revelation Massage

The Isolation Chamber: If Joe Rogan recommends it, you know it’s good.

The flotation chamber is based on the isolation tank innovated in 1954 by neuropsychiatrist John C. Lilly, who wanted to examine the effects of sensory deprivation on the human brain.

According to historical accounts, Lilly experimented with floating for 10 years, sometimes using psychedelic drugs, sometimes going without. Ultimately, he found that entering the chamber clean and sober was the way to go because it left consciousness undisturbed.

In the earliest models, users were required to wear tight clothing and to be completely submerged, which required the use of a breathing apparatus. That method ultimately gave way to the more comfortable floating technique, although Hollywood often chooses to present sensory deprivation in the old way. It’s just spookier if the subject is required to be fully submerged.

Hollywood horrors aside, some notables who enjoy some isolation chamber action include physicist Richard Feynman, NFL quarterback Tom Brady, singer Peter Gabriel and actor-slash-talkshow host-slash-comedian-slash-UFC commentator Joe Rogan, whose YouTube videos about his experiences tend to get a million viewers.

The sensory deprivation chamber has been the most important tool I’ve ever used for developing my mind,” Rogan says at the start of one video. “For thinking. For evolving.”

Where? How much? Where else?

* A first-time float at Revelation Massage, 577 Main St. in Lewiston, cost $59 for up to 90 minutes in the pod. Find out more by calling 376-3233 or visit revelationmassage.com

* Float Harder Relaxation Center, 500 Washington Ave., Portland. Find out more by calling 400-5187

* Float Maine in Portland. Call 808-0896, email neil@floatmaine.com or visit floatmaine.com. 

When you take flotation therapy a little too far:

Sensory deprivation in fiction

“Fringe”: In this science fiction TV series, a sensory deprivation tank is used to activate mental powers or to possibly blast a hole into an alternate universe. I don’t think this happened to me while I was enjoying a float at Revelation Massage, but then again, how would I know for sure?

“Stranger Things”: In this spanking new web television series, the disappearance of a young boy leads to freaky discoveries about government experiments in mind control, alternate universes and occasional lousy acting. In the show, a young girl, the subject of MKUltra experiments, is placed into an isolation tank so that she can remotely view things happening elsewhere and to move between dimensions. At the end of the first season, the good guys attempt to recreate the government’s isolation tank using a plastic swimming pool, some road salt, a pair of goggles and some duct tape. This causes Winona Ryder to freak out and smash holes in her walls. You’ll have to see the show to understand.

“Altered States”: The 1980 sci-fi horror film is based on John C. Lilly’s experiments with sensory deprivation. In the movie, the man running the experiment wants to unlock the universe’s greatest secrets by taking copious amounts of drugs and spending time in the isolation tank. Instead of making a great discovery, the fellow finds himself devolving into an apelike creature. That didn’t happen when I was enjoying a float at Revelation Massage. I don’t think. You know what? A banana DOES sound pretty darn good right now.

“Hawaii Five-O”: In the hit television show pilot, our hero Steve McGarrett goes undercover, allowing himself to be captured and placed in an isolation tank by the skanky villain Wo Fat. Did McGarrett survive the psychological torture of sensory deprivation? Considering the show lasted another 12 years, I’d say probably.

“The Simpsons”: In Season 10, episode 16, Homer and Lisa enter a pair of coffin-sized isolation tanks. Lisa goes on a fantastic mental journey in which she envisions herself as the family cat. Homer, on the other hand, gets bored and starts singing. Doh!

“The Premature Burial”: A short story by Edgar Allan Poe about the horrors of . . . do I really have to tell you? Read the title, would you? The story isn’t about isolation tanks, but when it comes to the concept of sensory deprivation, nobody describes it better – or more horrifyingly – than Poe. As it turns out, claustrophobia isn’t much of an issue in the modern float chambers. There’s too much warm, good stuff going on in there to worry very much about the confining nature of the pods.

Mark’s float therapy tips:

* Wear the earplugs you are offered. Although the float pods are said to eliminate 90 percent of outside noise, that remaining 10 percent will distract you.

* Go naked into the pod. It’s said to provide a better experience, but also the heavy salts in the pod water will cause your shorts or bathing suit to stiffen like a board once they start to dry.

* Don’t worry about the last guy. Owners say that after each session, the water in the pod is subjected to a three-stage filtration process. In addition, they say the extremely high salt levels prevent bacteria from surviving.

* Skip the neck pillow. Although it’s comfortable, I found that simply letting the head rest back on the water provided a better sensation of true weightlessness.

* Shut the room lights and block the crevice beneath the door before entering the pod. Although it’s plenty dark inside the pod, some light will seep in around the lid.

* Go naked. I know I already listed this tip. I just enjoy writing it.

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