
I was at the IAYT conference โ the International Association of Yoga Therapists โ when I heard this story from Robert Sturman, a photographer whose life’s work has taken him inside prisons to photograph people practicing yoga.
He was there, camera in hand, witness to something quietly extraordinary. And at some point, a prison warden โ not a yoga teacher, not a therapist, not a wellness professional โ said this:
“Those that do the yoga make better decisions.”
I’ve been sitting with that ever since.
Because here’s the thing. That warden wasn’t talking about flexibility. He wasn’t talking about stress relief in any soft, abstract sense. He was observing something measurable in the people under his watch: the ones who practiced yoga were making different choices.
And as an occupational therapist and yoga therapist, I think I know why.
You cannot make good decisions from a dysregulated nervous system.
That’s not a theory. That’s neuroscience. When we’re in a chronic stress state โ when our body is running on high alert, flooded with cortisol, stuck in fight-or-flight โ the brain’s decision-making centers go offline. The prefrontal cortex, the part responsible for weighing consequences, considering others, pausing before reacting, gets bypassed. What takes over is survival mode.
And sibs? A lot of us have been living in survival mode for a very long time.
Not because we’re broken. Because we grew up in households where the unexpected was ordinary. Where needs were urgent and attention was divided. Where we learned โ early and well โ to scan the environment, manage our own reactions, and keep moving. That kind of early experience shapes the nervous system. It wires us for vigilance.
Which means the decisions we make โ about our own needs, our relationships, our boundaries, our future โ are often being made from that same wired-in place. Not from clarity. From chronic bracing.
This is where yoga comes in. Not as a fix. Not as a cure. But as a practice that, over time, teaches the nervous system that it’s okay to settle.
Breath by breath. Posture by posture. The body learns that it doesn’t have to hold everything quite so tightly. The exhale gets longer. The shoulders drop. And slowly โ not all at once, not in a single class โ the window of tolerance widens. There’s more space between stimulus and response. More room to actually choose.
That’s what the warden saw. He didn’t have language for polyvagal theory or vagal tone or prefrontal cortex activation. He just watched the people in his facility. And he noticed: the ones who did the yoga made better decisions.
I think about sibs I’ve worked with โ and honestly, I think about myself โ and how many of our hardest moments weren’t about not knowing what to do. They were about not being able to access what we knew. Because the body was too activated. The nervous system too loud.
Yoga is one way in. Even a few minutes of slow, exhale-focused breathing โ longer out than in โ can begin to shift the state. To bring the prefrontal cortex back online. To make space for the you that knows things.
You don’t have to be in crisis to benefit from this. The practice works best when it’s not a rescue โ when it’s a regular return. A daily reminder that regulation is available to you.
Robert Sturman photographed people in prison finding that reminder. And a warden, watching from the outside, saw the result.
I hope you’ll let that land wherever it needs to for you.
If you’re curious about what a regular practice might feel like โ and you want to try it without any commitment โ I have free classes available at Soul To Soul Yoga. Come as you are. That’s the whole point.

Cheryl Albright, OTR/L, C-IAYT
Cheryl Albright is an occupational therapist, yoga therapist, and the founder of SpecialSib.com and Soul To Soul Yoga. With over 20 years of experience working with families and individuals with disabilities, she writes and teaches at the intersection of the sibling experience, the nervous system, and the body-based tools that help sibs come back to themselves.
