Our toughest adventure yet

Image from feebreeze.tumblr.com

Pina and I agreed as we left last night's adventure that it was BY FAR the toughest yet.

We've braved the zip line, wavered across a rope bridge high above the trees, maneuvered through the waves on a surfboard, but nothing prepared us for floating.


Yep, floating.

I had heard about iFloat from a few others who extolled the relaxing and calming virtues of floating.  Pina had heard as well and when she saw a Living Social voucher enticing us to float, she jumped on it.

"Floating?" I asked. "Can't I do that for free in my bathtub?"

We were still trying to find a time to celebrate Pina's birthday and she was game,  so what the heck, I'm in.

We arrived at the floating destination and had an orientation with our Zen-like float master, David.   Who knew there'd be floating 'rules?'   Pina insists that the look on my face was priceless as David invited us to peer into the floating chamber.   I was having some serious MRI flashbacks at this point.  

Floating is done naked, in the dark, alone and in silence.  For sixty minutes.  You are suspended in a warm solution of Epsom salt, about 10″ deep, so dense that "you float effortlessly" according to David.  He also instructed that we be very mindful of our necks as most people try to hold their heads up, like you would in an actual swimming pool, but it's not necessary to do that while you're floating.  That was one of the real challenges, and a true lesson in letting go in the fullest sense.

But the biggest challenge was being still.  At first I was acting like I really was in the MRI, attempting not to move a muscle. Hmm, how much time had elapsed, I began wondering.  Maybe three minutes?  Whew, only 57 to go.

Then as time went on, I realized that I could move, a little.  No splashing mind you, but some micro-movements, wiggling fingers and toes, tilting the head from side to side.  Hey, whatever you can do to pass the time.   I tried meditating, practicing my yoga breathing, reviewing my to do list for the following day, planning a menu for our holiday get together.... you name it.

Eventually I did my best to relax and enjoy the experience and when the music began playing (the signal that your session has come to an end), I breathed a sigh of relief. Although I also half expected  to hear David's soothing voice through an intercom informing me I had just taken part in some kind of porn film.

But it came down to this.  Stillness is a bitch.  We just aren't used to it (well at least I'm not).  So is relinquishing control for many of us. When we consider how much control we have and need on a daily basis, to let it ALL go, is completely foreign.  Comparing notes afterwards, Pina and I both wondered how it is that the world has become such a fast paced, chaotic, harried place, that there's a need for such extreme measures to get us to slow down.

We remained relaxed through the rest of the evening which included sampling a Pickle Martini at the the Arts Festival in Westport (I'd be more likely to try floating before I sip another Pickle Martini) and sharing a scrumptious dinner at the new Spotted Horse

All in all a truly memorable adventure.


And for the record, I do plan to slip in to my bath tub sometime over the weekend.

Learning to Sit Alone, in a Quiet Empty Room

On this chilly snowy morning, I find my mind making lists of how to spend the first snow day of the year.  As I wander through the time suck known as the internet, I came across this insightful article by Leo Babuata from Zen Habits.  He's always got something thought provoking to share.

 His words strike a chord with me.  While I always rated high on "plays well with others," the idea of sitting alone doesn't sit well with me.  It's a habit I'm trying to cultivate, even if just through my simple ten minute morning meditations.

Perhaps today is the time to carve out some nothing time.  Being, not doing.

My favorite spot in my office.  Perfect for some solitude.

‘All men’s miseries derive from not being able to sit in a quiet room alone.’

 ~Blaise Pascal

Post written by Leo Babauta.

Think about some of the problems of our daily lives, and how many of them would be eased if we could learn to sit alone, in a quiet empty room, with contentment.

If you’re content to sit alone quietly, you don’t need to eat junk food, to shop on impulse, to buy the latest gadget, to be on social media to see what everyone else is talking about or doing, to compare yourself to others, to make more money to keep up with the Joneses, to achieve glory or power, to conquer other lands or wage war, to be rude or violent to others, to be selfish or greedy, to be constantly busy or productive.

You are content, and need nothing else. It solves a lot of problems.

Can you sit alone in an empty room? Can you enjoy the joy of quiet?

Most of us have trouble sitting alone, quietly, doing nothing. We have the need to do something, to check our inboxes and social media, to be productive. Sitting still can be difficult if you haven’t cultivated the habit.

I’ve been learning. In the morning, as my coffee is brewing, I sit. Even for a few minutes, at first, it is instructive. You learn to listen to your thoughts, to be aware of your urges to do something else, to plan and set goals. You learn to watch yourself, but to just sit still and not act on those urges. You learn to be content with stillness.

You learn to savor the quiet. It’s something most of us don’t have, quiet, and it takes some getting used to. When we’re driving our cars or out exercising or eating or working, we have music playing or we talk with people or we have the television on. Quiet can be amazing, though, because it helps us calm down, contemplate, slow down to savor the emptiness.

An empty room, too, is a luxury. I try to empty my room of clutter, so that it’s fairly bare. That leaves only me, and the room is a blank slate ready to be filled with me, my creativity, my silence. I love a spartan room.

Being alone is another pleasure we too often neglect. When we are alone, we go on the Internet or TV to see what else is going on, what others are doing or saying, instead of just being alone. This isolation is a necessary thing, that allows us to find ourselves, to learn to be content with little instead of always wanting more.

Can you practice being alone, being still, being quiet? Just a little at first, then perhaps a bit more. Listen, watch, learn about yourself. Find contentment. Need nothing more.