By the time I let myself entertain the notion that the back pain I’d intermittently been experiencing was more than just an ill-fitting bicycle my mind leaped from strained muscles straight to late-stage cancer. Deep down, I knew it couldn’t possibly be the later and still I let myself entertain the what if? I even asked The Man if he would remain in contact with YaYa if I was to die. Reality kicked back in by the time I was face to face with my physician.
Her exam confirmed observations which I and my fellow yogis have noted over the past many months. My back is not quite the straight and narrow that you’d come to expect; it is crooked. The question is: Why?