Amateur meditator here, who had the trippiest experience from meditating in the World's Quietest Room (anechoic chamber at the Microsoft lab) for two hours. tl

Amateur meditator here, who had the trippiest experience from meditating in the World's Quietest Room (anechoic chamber at the Microsoft lab) for two hours. tl;dr: multiple sensory streams completely merged. I "lost" the t-region of my face. All breathing relocated into my auditory track (can't be a coincidence I was in a -22db environment, right?) I'm still curious to try to get a veteran meditator or neuroscientist to explain what might have happened. Closest I got was being third in line at a Sam Harris event. Post-event description follows. Most peaceful event of my life, x1000. Wave 1: uneventful. Wasn't trying to force anything, nor did I have any expectations. But the experience was an ordinary meditation experience. Getting settled. Wave 2: after a few rounds of body scans, imagined sphere of light expanding outward from the heart, and breath focusing, I had a rather spontaneous, surprising, and effusive wave of gratitude -- visualizing the faces of loved ones (family, friends), one at a time, smiling and happy. Flowing gratitude for them and their happiness. Accompanying this was a deep somatic attunement. Wave 3: At first I thought the silence had pronounced some mild tinnitus. But after a while the silence took on a pulsating dominance of its own -- as a dominant object of consciousness. Later doubted the tinnitus, as the chair on which I was sitting would occasionally make a tiny crinkle, and those crinkles I heard loudly and completely. My fixation on breath became impossible as the rhythm of my breath slowed enough, and remained steady enough, to merge perfectly with the slightly pulsating dominance of the "loud silence" (oxymoronic, I know). This was the deepest level of somatic attunement I reached in the two hours. At one point, sensory awareness of the middle rectangle of my face (eyes, nose, cheeks) seemed to vanish. This wasn't numbness, nor disassociation, but ... something else. A crowding out of consciousness (?) due to the dominance and deep observation of the pulsating silence. Incredibly peaceful and self-possessing. When the lights came on, first words out of my mouth were, "no way!" (was that two hours). I swore not even an hour had passed.