John Lilly, Deprivation Tanks, San Francisco in the 90s
being the recollections of a broke punk rocker falling asleep in a pool of salt water.
When I was living in San Francisco in the 90s I was fairly plugged into the world of the weird that existed (and maybe still does?) in that incredible city. I knew so-called “modern primitives”, practicing magicians, radical fairies, every type of leftist and punk rocker and all manner of people on spiritual quests. Through one of these connections, I was turned on to the totally trashy film Altered States and the controversial man whose life it is allegedly based on – John Lilly.
Lilly was a physician turned New Age guru type who began his career as a reputable psychoanalyst and ended it thinking he could talk to dolphins. It was a pretty wild ride helped along by a lot of drugs and the spirit of the times. Along the way, he developed the use of the sensory deprivation tank, using them for many hours at a time, often while high on psychotropic drugs.
In mid-90s San Francisco, people were still pretty interested in Lilly and in sensory deprivation tanks.* One of my friends swore by them, claiming they put him in a deep meditative state. Intrigued, I got the name of a gentleman who rented tanks out of his Noe Valley home and went to give is a try.
If memory serves, it cost me forty dollars for an hour. That was a lot of money to an underemployed punk rock kid, but I was excited by the prospect of discovering some new inner realm. I went to the guy’s home, which was decorated in the new age style of a certain SF resident of the time – Native American art on the wall, books by Starhawk on the table. It wasn’t my scene, but he was friendly, not too creepy, and the space was clean. He took my money and led me to a small room with its own bathroom. He told me that after he left, I should get underdressed, and get in the giant plastic chamber that dominated the room. He’d come back an hour later, and knock on the door. If I didn’t respond after a few knocks, he’d open the door and get me. Then I was free to take a shower, and schedule my next session.
I climbed into the tub and was struck by how buoyant I felt. It was pitch black. The only sound I could hear was my heart beating. At first, I was excited and a bit unnerved by the experience. But soon enough I relaxed and then…knock knock.
It was over. At the time I wanted to believe I’d been drifting in some sort of deep meditative state, but I think what really happened is I fell asleep.
I acknowledged the dude’s knock, and he left the room. I got out of the chamber, took a quick shower, and demurred from his offer to schedule another session. While no harm was done by the experience, I saw no reason to go back. And I didn’t. One forty dollar nap in a black pool was enough for me.
*Lilly seems to be having another resurgence with the rise of interest in hallucinogens for self development and is often name dropped in places like the Joe Rogan podcast.