It was all a bit dystopian. I parked on a scorching late-winter day in an open-air parking lot in downtown Los Angeles, surrounded by corporate skyscrapers and the sidewalks lined with housing encampments. There was nothing distinctive about the condo-like building that Quantum Wellness is located in, other than two welcoming sculptures of the Goliathan Buddha.
I entered the spa's gleaming white lobby to try out its “zero body dry float,” a bed filled with 400 liters of hot water meant to create a weightless experience that relieves pressure on the spine and joints and eliminates stress. The beds are designed to mimic a traditional floating tank, where a person is suspended in Epsom salt-filled water, often in complete darkness, but the advantage of these beds is that there is no need to get wet. At Quantum, the experience lasts 35 minutes and costs $60.
Jeremy Hoffmann is the founder, CEO and owner of Quantum Wellness Spa.
(Dania Maxwell / for The Times)
“We really wanted to focus on calming people's nervous systems,” says Jeremy Hoffmann, founder and CEO of Quantum Wellness Spa. “When it comes to dry float, I think there are very few pieces of technology that offer deep rest and restoration. It was a no-brainer.”
The spa offers everything from traditional services like massages and facials to biohacking, IV drips and energy work. Inside it looks like it was built for a future where humans live underground, seeking to reconnect with what life was like on Earth. Neon lights make cool, dark hallways and rooms look like they're aboard a spaceship. Reserved moss and mycelium grow in a glass-floored room where I heard the members breathing vigorously. In the cold-water bath and sauna area, the walls undulate with color-changing patterns designed to evoke arctic caves and volcanic rocks.
At the reception, I was greeted by a host who walked me down the hallway to a bright baby blue room. “Do you have an intention?” asked.
“Presence,” I responded.
Hartman prepares for his floatation experience at Quantum Wellness in downtown Los Angeles
(Dania Maxwell / for The Times)
I stepped over the bed frame and lay down on a plastic sheet. The presenter handed me a blindfold and Bose noise-canceling headphones, playing the hypnotic sounds of a space drum with birds chirping in the distance.
“Are you comfortable?”
“Yeah.”
Slowly, the host put me into bed. I felt like I was sinking into the water and the plastic filled with warm liquid was working its way into all my crevices.
“Okay, time to relax,” I thought, breathing deeply and sighing audibly for the day.
Almost immediately, just like in my morning meditation practice, I began to notice my frenetic, future-oriented thinking. What will the rest of my day be like? Maybe I'll get Sweetgreen for lunch…
But unlike a meditation of the same length, at some point my mind abandoned its stubborn musings. I sighed continuously (a sign that my nervous system was downregulating) and began to distract myself from the repetitive sounds of the music. Before I knew it, the bed was rising again.
The experience was noticeably different than the one I spent just a week earlier at WellNest. The 24/7 spa in Pasadena exclusively offers dry floating ($80 for a one-hour session).
The experience involves wearing a blindfold and Bose noise-cancelling headphones that play relaxing music.
(Dania Maxwell/for The Times)
Like Quantum, it also seemed strangely futuristic. Before arriving, I received a video that looked like a commercial from a healthcare company explaining how to find the building and register. I was escorted to a crude metal elevator that opened to a warmly lit beige and pink waiting room and a desk, both empty. If I had any questions, a person named Jane, my “wellness concierge” who I had never met, texted me to let me know she was there to support me.
I walked into the room and climbed into bed, one foot at a time, the warm water inside the plastic sheet sloshing around and making me feel a little wobbly. Unlike Quantum's bed, they didn't lower me. Instead, some water filled around me, but I didn't feel a firmness that gave me the sensation of being strongly supported or suspended. In fact, it reminded me a little of my childhood friend's waterbed (fun, but not particularly therapeutic).
Wet or dry floating reportedly helps reduce stress and anxiety in the short term.
(Dania Maxwell / for The Times)
Anthony S. Saribekyan, founder and CEO of WellNest, says he decided to start a dry flotation business after discovering the wonders of traditional flotation tanks for his anxiety and stress. The main benefit, he says, of the dry float over the regular float is the convenience of not having to shower before and after. Both types of floats, he says, contain 9,000 pounds of Epsom salt. Dry float tanks are also more environmentally friendly because the water is sealed within the system and is usually only replaced every few months or years, rather than being drained and replenished regularly.
So far, data on the effectiveness of dry flotation compared to wet flotation is limited. A small study found that both types of floating increase relaxation, but that wet floating is more therapeutic.
The float tank (or isolation tank) was invented in 1954 by an eccentric researcher named John C. Lilly, who believed that an experience without sensory information (sound, light, or even gravity) was the key to understanding the nature of human consciousness. Beginning in the 1970s and 1980s, research into the benefits of wet flotation took off and has continued ever since, with studies funded by the National Institutes of Health. Today, the strongest and most consistent finding about wet floating is that it helps reduce stress and anxiety in the short term, even after a session. There have also been studies, many of which are smaller and preliminary, showing the benefits of floating for conditions such as insomnia, body image dissatisfaction among people with anorexia, methamphetamine dependence, and pain intensity, such as the stress placed on the body after a high-impact workout.
Emily Choquette, director of the Torrance-based Flotation Clinic and Research Center, says she hypothesizes that some, but not all, of the benefits received during wet flotation would also be achieved with dry flotation. In studies conducted at the Float Clinic and Research Center, Choquette says they use a zero-gravity chair, which is different from a dry float, but similar in that it creates a sensation of suspension without the person being submerged in the water. They have found that the chair is effective for many of the same conditions as wet floating, but overall it doesn't seem to have as noticeable an improvement in affect.
At least when it comes to wet floating, Choquette says, there's now enough research that he'd like insurance companies to cover it as a complementary treatment for anxiety, along with therapy. As for everyone else, he sees it as a beneficial tool for a person's wellness routine, much like yoga or meditation, something that helps us reset amid the “constant bombardment of external feedback.”
When I emerged from Quantum's cavernous womb and returned to the sprawling urban development, I had to admit: I felt lighter, like my stress had dropped a few notches. Unlike before, when I was running to my appointment, I walked a little slower, appreciating the sun touching my skin. Was it better than the reset I get after a massage in the San Gabriel Valley or a hike in the Angeles National Forest? It's hard to say after one session, but it looks like it's worth another visit.
Hartman tried two different locations for a dry float experience: one at WellNest and another at Quantum Wellness Spa, where she is pictured.
(Dania Maxwell / for The Times)
