The chapel was bathed in cool subterranean light, filtered through high window slits as though between lily pads into the chthonic depths of a pond. Sitting in a pew, I felt as though I had drowned. The faint sound of religious music piped through hidden speakers became the Music of the Spheres, the sound of my consciousness as it fled my drowned body. All was stillness and shafts of light.
The air had a strange weight, as though water were all around me. The ceiling far above was the world of air that I had left. I felt contained, as though resting on the bottom of a great pool. It didn’t feel smothering. It was a deep, floating sense of peace.