Today's float was more somatic, still. I kept hallucinating touch – someone touching my foot or my hand. It wasn't the tank, since I did an impressive job of centering myself and staying centered, for the most part.

I processed a lot of emotions around my mom's illness and death. There was some catharsis, although mercifully I didn't start crying.

Time did not fold in on itself today. If anything, it expanded. I felt like I was in there for about three hours, instead of 90 minutes.

I had the usual swirling colours, and the universe expanding around and through me. And I had a few other interesting experiences as well. I had a strong impression of a tree, of being a tree, of feeling my bark and seeing my bark and leaves from the inside out.

And I was both in an egg, and the egg itself. The capsule dissolved into a radiant shell of white, lit from within, and I could hear my heart beat and see it reflected in the pulse of the egg. Then I became the shell itself, as well as the contents, as my body thrummed in response to the beat of my heart.

So, yeah. Trippy.

I drank some tea after, and did some colouring on one of the sheets they provide.

On my way home, Boston drivers did their level best to harsh my mellow by acting like complete ninnyhammers. But nothing fazed me. That's what I love best about floating – it temporarily renders me calm and unfazeable.

Well, that and it's trippy.
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