No...wait... that's not nice. It's actually called a gong bath. I went to one last night at the local yoga studio.
It was fascinating. The deal is that somebody figured out the frequency with which each of the planets vibrates and then somebody else, presumably, tuned gongs to match those frequencies. That part is cool. The sounds and the intensity and the musical experience were really, really interesting. It sounded like I imagine outer space travel would sound. (Hush... I know there can be no sound where there's no air. Work with me here.) It's even true that there were physical sensations to correspond to the sounds. Warmth, cold, some intensity in the chest/heart area. I can work with that. A bath is a really good metaphor, actually. It did feel as though the sound were washing over me.
Moreover, I noticed variations in intensity and power of the experience as I changed position. Savasana for an hour is a hard thing for me. I'm the most sway-backed person on the planet, I sometimes think, and my back starts to hurt. So I rolled over onto my tummy. Prostrations work as a meditative posture, I figure. And in this position I was more protected from the sound's intensity; there were no more intense feelings in my chest/heart. All interesting factoids.
But it gets weird when you start to talk about vibrational healing. The deal with this gong is that it's tuned to Pluto -alas, no longer even a planet, but still vibrating, apparently. And mythologically speaking, Pluto is all about dying to one thing and being reborn to another. And Pluto is a tough character. He doesn't particularly care if you're ready to deal with the stuff that needs to be moved on from (from which you need to move on... a thousand apologies for the preposition there).
So, I figured... who among us needs to die to one thing and be reborn to another more than me? Who among us has greater abilities to deny that need and repress the information that something is dying? Ummm... that would be me. So a hard-assed little mythological sprite who will churn up the repressed stuff could be just the ticket. Gong away, Pluto.
Alas... nothing. Maybe I'm immune to healing. Maybe I'm immune to new-age-y healing metaphors. Maybe I'm just not ready and haven't healed yet. Or maybe I'm just tougher than Pluto and someone should tune a gong to ME. Wound up as tightly as I am, playing that gong could be quite the experience ;)