My first "trip" I came away with the following insights, which I would not describe as particularly profound.

First, that I could sometimes be too hard on myself, for no benefit.

Second, that I had a tendency to drive my body around like a crappy old station wagon I didn't care about, some kind of hand-me-down; I realized "I am the station wagon, when I wreck this one, that's it."

Each subsequent trip did leave me with a kind of refreshed feeling, like I had the vents blown out and the floor scrubbed. That's about as ineffable as I got. Perhaps I lack imagination.