I was never particularly interested in drugs when I was younger. Psychedelics, especially, held no appeal for me. But now, of course, now that I’m officially a ‘Responsible Adult’ with children to keep alive, and on the cusp of perpetual burnout, I find myself craving all the things I can’t do; like go on peyote expeditions in Peru with nomadic shamans. And so, in lieu of abandoning my family for drug-induced adventures, I’ve discovered an alternative: cyberdelics.
Specifically, the world’s first “psychedelic float” — where various machines work together to create a trippy auditory, visual, and sensory adventure at South Molton Street’s Vidavii.
The experience is part vibrating waterbed, part audial journey, and part neuroVIZR — a piece of headgear that flashes white light onto your (closed) eyes, providing the ‘cyberdelic’ element. The flickers it creates are then interpreted by our brains as colours, and shapes — and therefore no two people would see the exact same series of images.
The device claims to enhance neuroplasticity and increase mental flexibility while also providing a stimulating experience that helps you to sleep. In a study done, admittedly, by neuroVIZR, participants reported “reduced stress, improved focus and deeper relaxation after just one session of light and sound stimulation”. And at Vidavii, you can either buy a neuroVIZR for £599, or experience it as part of the “psychedelic float” for £75.
‘Cyberdelic’ devices are nothing new, and there are a slew of machines that have been created as digital alternatives to psychedelics. Creating trippy visual experiences that can be paired with sound and touch, these technologies aim to mimic elements of the psychedelic experience, with many promising to help in a variety of areas — from depression to meditation, trauma to anxiety. Experts I spoke to were quick to emphasise that research in this area is lacking. Dr. David Luke, an associate professor at Greenwich University, says “just having one of these experiences [with a neuroVIZR] could, at least, feel good. But in terms of the hard science as ever, there needs to be more research”.
Neuroscientist Timo Schmidt agrees, saying that the devices are “unexplored”, and that while there could be a slew of potential uses, that “there is currently no sufficient evidence to unconditionally support statements on many benefits”. While more investigations need to be done into the best applications for these devices, Dr. Luke explains that, “they do seem to confer some cognitive potentiality, such as modulating sleep and helping relaxation”.
Back at Vidavii, I’m led to a space-age device where I lie on a dry waterbed and place the futuristic gadget on my head. I’m told to choose between several modes including one to “boost”, one to help me relax, and one to “restore”. Feeling adventurous that day, I chose “boost”, which was supposed to enhance my creativity, improve focus, and help with sleep.
Once a selection was made — the party started. The dry waterbed started to lightly massage me, and music ranging from upbeat and ambient, to techno-esque pumped through the headphones I’d been given. The lights flickered on my eyes, and kaleidoscopic images flashed before me, varying in colour and size. On occasion, the colours became large, and less distinct, like small grains of television static that my brain enlarged. It was like a soothing sci-fi fairground ride. And between the vibrations, sounds, and lights, it was a stimulating and enjoyable experience — perhaps the closest I’ll ever get to taking psychedelics, and in a far safer environment.
It’s hard to gauge or measure how, or if, my creativity improved. I had a productive day — probably more efficient and fruitful than most, which is something. But the clearest effect of it was on my sleep. While I’d had about a week of patchy, broken sleep, the night of my ‘psychedelic float’ experience I went to bed, and didn’t wake up until the morning. Even when my daughter disturbed me at the murderous hour of five a.m., I was still able to easily fall back asleep without a problem. While I’ve never had an illegal trip, I enjoyed my non-criminal one, and if I could afford £599 to buy the neuroVIZR for my home then it’s something I’d unquestionably use for fun, if not to prepare myself for a good sleep. I’m keen to try other devices out, to see how they differ, and how they might be used in the future. But in the meantime, if anyone’s in Oxford Circus, losing their mind in a sea of tourists, perhaps all you need is to spend some quiet time vibrating by yourself at Vidavii with some jaunty hallucinations to realign you.
