When I first sat down to write this piece, I was going to begin with how I’ve been trying to bring some balance to my mind since hitting my late 40s. And then it dawned on me that it’s something I have long tried to do – it’s just that the activities I pursue have become more thoughtful, positive and purposeful. Less running away and throwing my phone or shoes, more taking the time to understand why I feel the way I feel and finding a way to gently release the valve rather than wait for it to go off.

7am boxing workouts turned into 10am Pilates sessions. Screaming in the car was switched for a daily practice of yoga, writing and podcasting (if you want to hear what 365 days of podcasting sounds like, you can check it out at The Toni Daily but I warn you it is SWEARY).

Last year a realisation that being around nature, having lovely dogs and a settled homelife wasn’t making me want to sing from the rooftops led to an extremely valuable (and much needed) series of therapy sessions and yet I’m still interested to see what else I can do as I walk the path towards menopause. With all of these activities tried so far, what was left? The answer: floatation.

And so it was, with an open mind and a clear afternoon that I took myself off to Floating Point in Pangbourne. I’d come across it via a post from a former colleague who is an incredible artist; Robert Fitzmaurice, where he was extolling the virtues of floatation as a creative tool. Here’s my take:

First impressions

First things first – the place smells AMAZING. I don’t know what they put in their diffusers but it is the good stuff. Like how I wish my house would smell instead of coffee and dogs. I love our DeLonghi and the pups but my God it is not a good olfactory look.

Following a brief introductory chat which included having just the right kind of ambient music selected for me, I was shown into a room containing a shower and what looked a gigantic egg. An egg which then opened to reveal shallow water and a cool blue light and into which I was going to seal myself for the duration of the 60 minute session.

What not to wear

Thankfully I’d checked out the FAQs in advance and so knew that the best way to float is the way that nature intended. So, it was kecks off and a wash in the very generously proportioned shower. You will not be disappointed to hear that the toiletries provided smelled – you guessed it – amazing! Whilst I’d left the swimwear at home the one thing I did wear were the complimentary ear plugs designed to stop you getting Epsom Salts in your Ajna chakra.

Curiouser and curiouser

My aim had been to help to quieten my brain. It’s been spinning out in unhelpful ways so I was keen to get the damn thing to shut up. Initially I found it straightforward to float (a ‘halo’ is helpfully provided for you to rest your head on if you feel nervous about putting your head back) but, being a curious soul, it took a little while to get the fidgeting, pressing the light button and putting just the teeniest tiniest drop of water on my tongue to see just how salty it was (answer: VERY) before I could finally switch off. I am 48 and I am still a danger to myself….

Weird awakenings

Curiosity sated, the first sign I had that it was working was when I awoke from a weird dream. And then again. And again. The music that had been expertly selected for me turned out to be a great soundtrack to zone out to. As someone who routinely grinds their teeth at night during times of stress it was noticeable that my jaw fully relaxed. And one point I snorted myself awake so I think it’s safe to say that I had some pretty decent downtime.

What time is it?

Alongside feeling entirely supported there was the incredible sensation of not knowing (or worrying about) how much time had passed. This is something I’ve never been able to achieve in other treatments. With yoga videos, I select on the basis of length of time and then hear myself going “Oh Christ, how much longer?” when there’s a challenging pose. If I go for a massage it’s that same voice while the masseuse pummels my back with her elbow or decides to talk at me while my face is in the hole that makes it feel like you’re trying to push your head through a cat flap. There is something incredibly powerful about fully disconnecting from a sense of time; where it doesn’t actually matter to you if you’ve been in there five minutes or half an hour.

It was all mellow

After the session it’s recommended that you head to the relaxation room for a herbal tea and a rest. Having been fully sold on the benefits of Savasana at the end of a yoga session to let the practice settle, I was surprised at the range of feelings that came over me as the floatation experience sank in. What began as a sense of refreshment turned into something I can only describe as “mellow”.  My shoulders and neck felt calm and my brain felt like it had done a positive workout. Not tired or wrung out, more a case of feeling completely settled in my skin.

A perfect circle

Ever since hearing how nutritionally awesome eggs are (they’re a complete protein source dontcha know) I’ve been a big fan of troughing them in all of their poached, boiled, scrambled and fried glory. Given that they also represent fertility and renewal there is something very womb-like about being in a great big ovoid. I’m not sure that I quite felt reborn but I was transported back to when I was six years old. As I sat in the relaxation room it was revealed that one of the pieces of artwork on display was from an illustrator who worked on one of my favourite childhood programmes: Pigeon Street. It was meant to be.

nb: In case you’re wondering, this is not a sponsored post! All bought and paid for out of my own pocket (well, it was a birthday gift from Mr K but, you know, the point still stands ;))