SARAH WOLF | WRITER, READER, GAMER
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My Inner Worlds
![]() I’m two weeks into my burgeoning yoga practice (the word instructors use instead of “workout”). The first session blew my mind. Why did I wait so long to begin what my body has been screaming at me to do for years? The new studio near my house offers two types of yoga: yin and Bikram. I had never heard of either, but yin practice grabbed my attention with words like fascia and soft tissue. ![]() Over five years ago my back spoke to me using pain. “Something isn’t right and we want you to pay attention.” My friends referred me to their awesome chiropractor, and my incredible employer gave me a high-end office chair for ergonomic back support. The news from my chiropractor wasn’t good: adhesions, no cervical curve (i.e. the curve that everyone has in their neck is not in mine), unexplained anomalies that made sense when I remembered how many times I fell as a child and knocked myself unconscious with a blow to the back of my head. The situation worsened in May, 2016 when a car ran a red light in downtown Raleigh and broadsided my beloved Camry, not ten minutes after I’d had a chiropractic adjustment. In shock and feeling like I’d just wasted $50, I called the chiropractor’s office hoping they might take mercy and give me a free visit. The assistant scheduled a full workup for the next morning, and that started my painful five-month path to recovery. However, I didn’t return to the pre-accident interval of spinal manipulations. In January, 2017 I visited the chiropractor at least once per week and decided three weeks ago that this is not how I want to live the rest of my life. Did I need to reach that point to become open to yoga’s appeal? Maybe. I’m a financial person and paying $50 per week has gotten old. I’d rather pay $100 per month for something that leads to a healthier, stronger future. Getting my spine cracked doesn’t change the underlying tissue that won't hold the vertebrae in place. Two weeks ago while I played Dungeons and Dragons with my friends, Matt—my super-loving husband—searched online and found a newly-opened yoga studio near us. The following morning (because we game ALL DAY) I clicked the link and decided to give yin yoga a try that afternoon. The website’s use of words that my chiropractor repeated for years drew me in. I didn’t know that adhesions could be released in a yoga posture over time. I thought I was stuck with them for life. Yin yoga is my doorway to a new me, a rebirthing of who I can be.
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