My Brain, And Maybe Yours, Is Like An Octopus
My first sensory deprivation experience
This was going to be my first time in a sensory deprivation tank. It might not sound thrilling to some, which I completely understand… I usually seek experiences that allow me to connect with different planes of existence. So, when the attendant at the facility asked if I wanted relaxing music and dim lights inside the tank, I kindly replied with: “No, thank you” — it would defeat the entire purpose.
For those who are hearing about a sensory deprivation tank for the first time: it’s exactly as it sounds. Imagine a large tank, similar to a vault, spacious enough to where you can lie down or stand without touching the walls; at least this one was large enough for that. It has a secure door that blocks out sound and light, as well as giving you full control over when to exit. The tank is only about 4 feet deep, filled with approximately 3 feet of highly concentrated salt water, allowing you to float effortlessly. This water is also kept at a neutral temperature so there are no temperature distractions. For head support, you’re given a floating pillow with a hollow center, this ensures that only half of your head is submerged and the water level doesn’t surpass your temples. Given that the ears will be submerged, you wear earplugs, which I found enhanced the sound of water; with minor movement, I could hear the gentle trickles and the soft sways — it was beautiful. Finally, it’s advised to enter the tank completely free of any items on your body: no clothes, jewelry, watches, headbands, etc. I can be quite shy, so being completely exposed like that in an unfamiliar place (even with privacy) made me somewhat uncomfortable at first, yet remarkably freeing…
The session was set to last 60 minutes. “Can I sit with my thoughts for that long? What if I get anxiously bored?”, I asked myself. But I figured I could always exit earlier if I could no longer resist the boredom.
So, there I was, floating… No sound, no light; absolutely zero distractions.
When I meditate, it usually takes me about 15 minutes to get in “the zone”. However, in the deprivation tank, I became immersed in a fraction of that time. My mind was utterly silenced as if floating in an endless yet peaceful void.
A few minutes after I was able to get “in the zone”, I had not realized that my body was moving while floating until the tippiest tip of my toe happened to ever so slightly brush against one of the tank walls, and as soon as that happened it caused an immediate explosion of thoughts. I was even able to see the actual explosion when it occurred; picture the Big Bang. One of those thoughts said: “That…was…insane!” — it truly was.
That minimal amount of contact (my toe against the wall) created sufficient force to push my body away from the wall allowing me to float without touching any other tank walls for the rest of the session.
During this deep meditative state, a clear twin or a reflection of “me” suddenly appeared in my mind. This other “me” communicated, via feelings, that it had been trying to connect/speak with me, but I had been denying its guidance. It shared insights and advice I had previously been unwilling to accept…
Those were the two most impactful things I got from the floating session. I know it’s not equal to a full-blown psychedelic experience where the insights, visuals, or feelings are constant but it has been the most profound, and I should say unexpected, 60-minute mediation session I‘ve experienced so far.
In any case. It was priceless to witness just how sensitive we are to sensory information. How a small drop of stimulus can trigger a flood of thoughts. After this, I can’t help but visualize our brain as an octopus — always seeking to latch onto some thought, placing its tentacles on as many thoughts as it can and not letting go of one unless it has another to replace it.
Just give your brain something to react to, and it will eagerly reach for more. What’s fascinating too is that thoughts seem to have a sort of inherent adhesive quality to them, making it extremely easy for the brain to grasp; as if destined for each other.
Our brain is incredibly sensitive to our thoughts — more than people realize — especially those we replay often.
The power of suggestion and the placebo effect are well-known psychological phenomena that have shown us how just our mere thoughts can alleviate all sorts of unwanted symptoms but also create false memories, or make us highly susceptible to others’ suggestions about us. The world of advertising relies heavily on suggestibility while also taking advantage of how these messages are absorbed by our subconscious. So next time you act in a certain way, or are craving/desiring XY or Z, and don’t know why, it could’ve [key word: could’ve] been because your subconscious picked up an external cue that led you to that.
In any case.
Have you noticed how it’s essentially our thoughts that cause our emotional disturbance?
We regard them [our thoughts] as real. But isn’t one thought just as real — or not — as the rest of the thousands of other thoughts?
It’s the ones we happen to grab at the time that we consider more real than the rest and that belief (which stems from another thought), as false as it might be, is what can cause internal turmoil.
The way I see it, each thought we latch onto takes us on its unique journey with its own set of emotions.
Could this be why some will suffer from mood swings? They’ve become easily influenced by their fleeting thoughts; hopping from one chariot-thought-ride to the next and treating each one with the same level of importance.
This might also shed light on neurotic behavior — where the compulsive repetition of certain thoughts (as illusory as they might be) creates problems that are not really there. We then feel these imagined problems are real and we attempt to solve them and this pattern repeats itself over and over. We become great at battling ghosts that never existed.
I understand some doubt the possibility of controlling our emotions or if it’s possible, it seems highly marginal. As an emotional person myself, I can see why this perspective appears valid. However, as much as I would like to agree with the skeptics, I must say that self-mastery is achievable.
Consider this:
If we are capable of shifting our focus from the past to the present, wouldn’t that be an indicator that the potential for controlling other intangible areas of our being would also exist?
Just because something is challenging doesn’t mean we should give up or think it’s unnatural. This is a big reason why we are fascinated by what Olympians can do: they exemplify the potential of pushing the boundaries of what’s possible.
At some point, we’ve all intentionally altered a thought to change its emotional impact. We might reframe the situation, consider the future, adopt a broader perspective, or put ourselves in someone else’s shoes. These are all methods we’ve likely all implemented to help shift our mindset in a more positive or productive direction since we’ve experienced how our thoughts can influence our emotions which can influence our behaviors.
Any change starts by addressing our thoughts about it.
Whether the thought comes first, and the emotion comes later. Or the emotion comes first and the thought about it comes later, it really doesn’t matter — at least to me, it doesn’t. It’s important to be able to handle whatever situation comes up, regardless of the sequence of events. In other words, be ready for both possibilities.
[Side note.
— Potential:
(1) Sometimes an emotion or feeling might emerge because it detects a thought that appeared before we became consciously aware of it. It is only after we experience the emotion or feeling that captures our attention that we become aware of the underlying thought. At that point, we try to manage the emotion as best as we can if it’s not too late. If it’s too late, and we’re on the “chariot thought ride” then the emotion that accompanies such thought will overwhelm us, at that point, we might not have a better option but to let it run its course (however, we usually milk it when it happens). Maybe try to see if there’s something beneficial you can extract from the ride: a new perspective that you might have missed before — if you can, unless you’re too busy milking it… I know I have, which is fine too, just try to remain aware that that’s the case.
In other instances, we might have been successful at negotiating with the thought that created it. If successful in doing so (meaning: you managed to avoid getting on the “chariot thought ride” this time) then the associated emotion often fades quicker or retreats to the background, running its course with minimal impact, to the point where we barely notice it.
(2) Intuition is different. I‘d like to say that it stems from a feeling rather than a thought. However, without a properly functioning brain with the ability to think, would we still experience intuition? Without the ability to think, I suspect we would be a shell of a person. Intuition is a difficult one: perhaps arises from an unknown source of information whose origin we’ve forgotten, I would also say it’s a combination of different kinds of “knowing” and not just thinking.
P.S.
Thoughts aren’t bad — they have their place. But they’re not meant to rule us.
Also…
I cannot claim, and never will, that we can make any emotion or thought disappear because I don’t know where they originate from or where they go when I’m not experiencing them. “It comes from your brain” — What a sophisticated answer…]
“Control” does not mean suppression — although some may equate the two based on their personal experiences — what I mean by “control” is keeping our thoughts, and thus emotions, in check.
A lack of proper control over our thoughts can lead to impulsive and foolish actions. This is why some people prefer to communicate mostly through writing rather than a more spontaneous method like talking on the phone. Writing (or texting) gives people the opportunity to pause, reflect, and carefully choose their words, which can lead to more thoughtful and considerate communication with less risk of error.
Whereas phone conversations require mostly immediate responses, which can lead to more impulsive communication, or Freudian slips, which might serve to reveal the person’s genuine feelings about something, but it’s also true that our initial perceptions can change upon deeper reflection, considering different aspects of a situation that we had not considered before.
Reacting without taking time to reflect can easily lead to behaviors that aren’t always in our best interest, such as addiction, compulsive behavior, or merely any unwanted thought pattern that can mess with your perception of reality.
Meditation has benefited me more than I realized. Each time I practice it, it creates a “buffer” between me and my thoughts (or emotions), allowing me to step back and see the thought as just a thought. This gives me time to ground myself, reestablish lost humility, and make wiser, more prudent decisions instead of reacting impulsively and potentially causing unnecessary pain to others.
Of course I won’t always succeed because part of life is experiencing what it’s like to be human. But every time I do get sucked in, I see it differently. And sure… the effect might appear minimal, but it does compound over time — we should never underestimate what a constant drop, of anything, can do if it happens long enough.
In the end, life is meant to be lived, feelings are meant to be felt, but not every thought is meant to be believed. Wisdom can guide us when we don’t know the way. Seek balance; all in moderation.
“Those who stand on their toes are not steady.” — Lao Tzu
