Deep Sea Rest
“You’re too stressed out Xavier,” his manager told him.
“But the deadline for this chip design…” he began to protest.
“Is my concern, not yours. Go relax. That’s not a suggestion.”
Xavier let out a loud yawn. He hadn’t been sleeping well. Each time his head hit a pillow, divorced from a screen in his hands, his mind turned to wires and vias not connecting together and RF interference was hurting product reliability.
He stepped out of the meeting room and slowly trudged out of the building. He didn’t really know how to relax. The project had taken up so much of his life. He kept pushing himself, hoping that salvation was right around the corner. But two years later, with rising costs and stretched deadlines, it felt like a Sisyphean journey.
The only thing he took with him was a small brochure from a relaxation center in Monterey. He was still reluctant but he was no longer bound by his work. He looked down at his phone as he took the bus home. He was locked out of his work email. For the next week, his goal would be to relax and he was determined to excel at it.
The ads for the Squid Bay Relaxation Center covered every wall as he walked out of the train station at Monterey. He had never heard of it before, but it apparently had taken off among tourists.
“Did you make a reservation?” he was asked in front of the center, a large geodesic dome along the coast.
“Yeah, let me pull up the email I was sent,” he instinctively pulled out his phone.
“Oh,” he realized. “I can’t access my email right now.”
“That’s fine,” the receptionist said with pity. “You aren’t the first to get one of these treatments arranged by your work. I’ll look up your account information here. You can leave your phone with us.”
“Leave my phone?” the suggestion felt horrible, like leaving his teeth.
“We’ll keep it safe,” she promised.
As Xavier stepped into the dome, the only thing he saw was an elevator. His fingers twitched and played with the keycard in his hand. As soon as he tapped it against the elevator shaft, the lift arrived to transport him to his underwater pod. It would be his home for the next week.
He stepped into the room and looked outside. From his window he could see all kinds of colorful coral, beautiful fish, and busy crustaceans.
What was common across all of was the deep blue seawater that they lived in. Did they even realize there was a whole around above sea level? A world of land? Of air? Of office buildings and deadlines?
The water swayed back and forth, almost hypnotically. Xavier laid down on the bed and watched it. That was all he could do. There were no screens and no sounds. There were no distractions at all.
Dinner would be sent later that night. His only task right now was to relax.
He closed his eyes.
Then he opened them again and rubbed his eyes.
He felt amazing.
I heard this interview a few weeks ago about a man who lived 100 days underwater in a small dome. For him, it was mostly a science experiment but he did remark on how well he slept. I think deep sea, or even largely shallow sea, centers could be quite therapeutic and useful for relaxation retreats.
I’m certainly a fan of progress and productivity, but it is valuable to take care of yourself too. Finding this balance will always be a work in progress.