Ann Arbor Healers: Staunch Stress, Seal Serenity

By Marie Noelle Duquette

I hurt my leg in mid-September while running with my dog, Nala. The air was cool, autumn-fresh, and Nala and I were enjoying our evening walk. I felt so strong that I broke into a light jog, without stretching. I am 61 and not a runner. 

About 50 yards into the run, I felt a pull behind my left knee. I slowed to a walk, thinking to myself, “There is no way that itty bitty burst of energy caused anything as serious as a sprain or heaven-forbid tear.” Still, my skin behind my knee was hot, the pain was real, and I quasi-limped home.

After wearing a brace on my knee for weeks, icing it daily, stretching it carefully, and getting an ultra-sound to rule out more serious causes, the pain behind my knee persisted. While researching therapies for leg injuries near Ann Arbor, I stumbled upon the Neurofitness Center website. Their website was convincing. I made an appointment to try everything they offered: Neurofeedback, the Salt Room, the Float Tank, and Cryotherapy.

My partner and I first went to Neurofitness to experience a Neurofeedback session and the Salt Room. Jack  Lark greeted us upon arrival. Knowledgeable and engaging, he would help us navigate the different therapeutic experiences. Neurofeedback, he explained, was a therapy in which he would attach a couple of electrodes to my ear lobes and one at my temple. Next, I would put on a comfortable pair of headphones—the kind with soft padding that cover one’s entire ears. Then I would sit in a comfy chair and listen to a recording of meditative music infused with nature sounds such as birdsong, steady rain, and wind rustling through trees. The recording was enchanting. It was easy to close my eyes and give my mind over to what I was hearing. Periodically, the music would skip, like a less-annoying skip of a record that self-corrects and lasts only a second. The ambient recording draws one’s auditory focus—the skips are triggered anytime one’s mind wanders beyond the music and birdsong. At first, the skips happened frequently. Soon, my focus on the audio became steadier and the skips were less frequent. The Neurofeedback session was like yearning to hear a beloved, melodic voice that is almost beyond one’s hearing. I stilled my body and leaned into the strings, rain sticks, flute, waterfall, and windchimes. By the time the session ended, I was ready to book a weekly session, my relaxation was so complete. Lark told me that Neurofeedback was a form of practicing mindfulness in a way that required less effort and more receptivity. As one who struggles with keeping my attention in the here and now, it succeeded beyond my hopes. 

If the Neurofeedback session was like yearning to hear a beloved, melodic voice the Salt Room was akin to sitting on a beach, inhaling fresh air. The Salt Room at Neurofitness is lit by infrared lights and is big enough for two people to sit in comfortably. The Himalayan salt is so deep on the floor that it looks like a remote beach of fine sand you can dig your toes into. Salt bricks are laid into the walls and a PVC pipe in the corner emits a burst of fine salt spray into the room every eleven seconds. Upon entering, I removed my shoes, pushed back in one of the zero-gravity chairs, and closed my eyes to focus on my breathing. I quickly fell into a meditative state and the half-hour session slipped away unnoticed.

The next day we returned to float. We had both enjoyed float tanks in the past and were familiar with the drill: enter the room, shower, enter the float tank, and either close the lid, if you are in the egg or turn out the lights if you are in the non-covered tank. Music plays if you are in the open tank, or you can float in absolute silence in the egg. In both tanks, you float in darkness that envelops you so completely that you cannot see the walls, the water, or your own wrist in front of your face. The complete lack of visual stimulation enhances one’s sense of touch so that the salt water, which holds you up without effort, feels like a cradle, the warm water giving a sense of being in a womb—a protected space created for your own nourishment and rest. A gentle recorded voice interrupts your reverie when the hour is drawing to an end. After floating, the colors and lights and sounds outside are more vivid and distinct. There is a newness to the world as if your very eyes have been cleansed—your senses reset. 

On Monday, I returned to Neurofitness for the scariest offering: Cryotherapy: standing, with minimal protective outerwear, in a sub-zero chamber for three minutes. Cryotherapy has been used for decades in Europe and Asia to promote athletic recovery. From the Neurofitness website, I read, “The use of liquid nitrogen in a safe and controlled environment provides a gentle but significant amount of cold exposure. The extreme cold stimulates the skin’s temperature receptors to activate the nervous, immune, and endocrine systems, leading to a reduction in inflammation and pain (hey athletes—this means quicker recovery!), elevating mood, and increasing energy. Clients often tell us they feel relief of symptoms including muscle soreness, arthritis, chronic pain, and inflammation.”

Lark, our guide at Neurofitness, was particularly helpful for my Cryotherapy session. He explained that the sub-zero temperatures would not feel quite as cold as I might expect, because it was a dry cold, not the wet cold that we know from Michigan winters. The Cryotherapy chamber looks a bit like a blue hexagon-shaped phone booth. The floor of the chamber is adjustable by adding soft, uniform pads that fit perfectly in the chamber’s footprint, so that no matter your height, your head is not enclosed in the chamber. Lark gave me special socks, shoes, gloves, and a robe and excused himself until I was ready. When he returned, he assured me that I was in control. Once in the chamber I could opt to remove the robe and at any time, or I could ask him to let me out. Still, he urged me to embrace the experience and try not to focus on how cold I felt. “That way, you’ll get the most out of doing it,” he said.

Once inside the chamber, I was not brave enough to drop my robe. The cold was not as sharp as I expected, but neither was it as comfortable as the other therapies had been. I endured the entire three minutes, trying to focus on the benefits. I emerged feeling like a victor. Immediately after Cryotherapy, I felt hungry, and then tired. As the evening wore on, and the new day dawned, I noticed that the pain in my leg was considerably subdued. I could still feel a dull ache where the sharp pain had been, but that continued to lessen in the days ahead. It has been two weeks since I braved the sub-zero Cryochamber and my leg has yet to hurt at the level of pain I endured before the experience. In fact, I’ve not worn my knee brace once since the big freeze. I’m going back for another session today, to continue the full healing of my leg, and to see if Cryotherapy will help heal two toes that I bruised badly yesterday when I wrapped them around a square, wooden chair leg. 

Neurofitness is an extremely clean facility. Lark is a helpful guide whose sense of optimism and wonder is infectious. The entire environment underscores that restorative healing and stress-relief is more than a nice occasional treat. It is something we need as much as medications, fresh food, and deep sleep. The therapies offered at Neurofitness act like boosters that enhance other healing practices. They helped me find a place beyond the trauma of life in which restoration of my body, mind, and spirit, is both inviting and efficient. 

In my first visit, I commented to Lark that I was pleased that Health Savings Account and Flexible Savings Account dollars offered by many insurance companies could be used for all their therapies. He said, “Of course! We are a health care center.” Indeed. 

Neurofitness is located at 6360 Jackson Road Suite A in Ann Arbor. To learn more or make an appointment, call (734) 206-2012 or visit them online at https://neurofitcenter.com.

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Namaste. Katie, Yoga Column Winter 2023

Dear Katie,

I’ve heard you talk about a “Word of the Year” before in classes and was curious if this is the same as a New Year’s Resolution, and how you use this in your yoga practice. I am hoping to incorporate something similar in 2023 for a little inspiration!

Namaste,

Toni, Ann Arbor

Dear Toni,

I am so glad that you noticed the “Word of the Year!” This is certainly not something exclusive to Verapose, though it is a practice we have incorporated for the majority of our seven years in business. We view our word of the year as more aligned with the word Sankalpa, or intention, then with a resolution. 

Rod Stryker in his book The Four Desires, dives deep into this ancient concept of Sankalpa, tracing it back to the Rig Veda, one of the first yogic texts. He draws the distinction of a resolution often being more tied to our desires, and a Salkapa being connected to purpose. For example, I may have a resolution to meditate every day, something I struggle with, and when I chase this desire and fail (I am intentionally using strong language here), I am hard on myself. In 2022, I chose Reflection as my word of the year. This allowed and encouraged me to think of all the ways I am able to slow down, quiet down, and engage in more contemplative practices. Through my Sankalpa, I was able to expand my definition: some days this reflection was meditation, some days it was journaling, a walk in the woods, or other reflective practices. 

Sankalpas move us closer to that intention through our resolve, and through our willingness to be creative and purposeful. Word of the Year is a broad Sankalpa, and there are times when we are going to want to sharpen our focus and our resolve; this may or may not be one of those times, depending on your vision for 2023. Much like all Sankalpas, yours isn’t set in stone. My amazing yoga partner Courtney loves a hyphenated word of the year, something like Reflective-Rest-Resolve, or something else fun. Try something out! You’ll know it when you have the right word choice. 

Namaste Katie,

I am sitting more than usual, and my legs are tight. I feel like I need something that I can do for a few minutes between meetings. I would love to take props, but I am moving around a bit much between offices to have props everywhere. Any recommendations?

Beth, Manchester

Dear Beth,

Yes, the nature of our occupations and our day to day lives has changed the ways in which we engage with our bodies. Many of us have been working more hours in challenging spaces, and many converting spaces that we used for rest into work areas. This has caused cumulative stress on that movement, and release can be really beneficial. There are all sorts of seated releases for the body to engage in during virtual meetings. I highly recommend a few seated cat-cows each day to move the spine and keep us thinking about alignment. 

For in-between spaces, take a moment to lie down! I know, some of us are looking at the ground/floor with a healthy dose of skepticism. Let’s give it a go. Releasing the back body into the floor is powerful. Take a few breaths here. Either with your feet planted near the glutes, or legs extended, draw one knee in toward the body. In this Apanasana, there are many choices. We’ve already checked in on the variations of the lower leg. We can also vary the degree to which the leg moves in toward the body. In the photo I have shared,my arms have some bend and are guiding my leg in the direction of the torso rather than pulling. We should strive for that Aparigraha, or non-clenching, in our postures. Take a few breaths in the space and explore where there are points of release, places to surrender. Perhaps there are spaces in the hips, in the shoulders, in the low back. When you are ready, switch sides. Allow yourself to return to a side that needs the attention or to stay longer in one space if needed. Enjoy the time to soften and relax. 

Namaste Katie,

I have, over the last few years, developed a regular meditation practice. Of late, my mind has been very active and harder and harder to wrangle in my morning sessions. I continue to sit, yet I am becoming more and more frustrated. I know that moving into the space with a sense of frustration is likely not helping, so I am reaching out for some support!

Prithi, Ann Arbor

Dear Prithi,

Yes, moving from a place of frustration can cause us additional frustration, and lead us down that vicious cycle. Michael Singer, in The Untethered Soul talks about our Inner Roommate as the voice in our heads that is constantly narrating our experiences and provides us with a sense of control. The first step for any of us is noticing the movement and motions of our Inner Roommate, as you have begun to do. This awareness assists us with noticing patterns, and those likely distraction points for the active mind. Finding solace in our active minds, and that awareness, can be part of the process, and as you have been beautifully aware, a challenging one!

The Yoga Sutras recommend that we stick with the form of meditation that is working for us, noting that consistency is a big part of developing those quiet spaces. We also allow ourselves the space to notice when something isn’t clicking. When our Inner Roommate is taking over and dominating the time that we have set aside for our practice, we may ask ourselves if it is time to switch things up. This may be a time to try out some mantra meditation (which can be external or internal). You may need a guided meditation to draw your focus: this may also be the space for a walking meditation to engage the body and the mind together. Doing so, in a kind and caring way, can help to soften your frustrations--and if one of these clicks with you, stick with it for a while. Have this be your consistent and kind space for as long as you need.

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