Despite its stylish looks and the compact, uniquely supportive feel and resistance of the beads as I assembled my Moon Pod, I’ll admit that years of bad beanbag experiences had made very me skeptical of any chair without legs — or arms, or a definitive seat. I found myself prepared for, no, expecting the worst — anticipating the idea that, despite all the hype, Moon Pod just didn’t have a leg to stand on.
Then I sat down.
My expectations vanished, as did the aches and tension from yesterday’s workout. In most beanbag chairs, after sinking all the way to the ground, you then need to scoot around for several minutes, shifting to a spot with slightly more padding, trying to find a vaguely comfortable position, only to slowly sink to the floor again. With the Moon Pod, there is no sinking or shifting, and definitely no scooting. The position I first reclined in was exactly where I stayed, comfortably and completely supported as I “floated” on top. No fidgeting. No shifting to a better spot. Just weightless, easy relaxation.
I then asked my father, who suffers from significant, painful nerve damage in his neck and back, to give the Moon Pod a try. After I finally got him out of the chair and back up to his feet, he claimed near-total relief when he was lying down.
Since his trial-sit, the Moon Pod has become a piece of prime real estate. I’m overjoyed that something finally helped my father find some relief, but I anticipate a new, daily “space race” for the best seat in the house. So, if you share a space and plan on keeping your Moon Pod to yourself, think again, and maybe grab two, or grab the Super Moon model (Moon Pod’s oversized chair-for-two).
Moon Pod has more than delivered on all of their promises, and the product far exceeded my expectations. Are Moon Pods worth it? Yes. The beanbag is back, better, and finally worthy of our fascination.