maybe She's right

I lay on the mat after yoga class-savasana, attempting to release all control of the breath, mind and body.  The room is quiet and still. I hear only the occasional breath of the woman laying beside me and the soft footsteps of teacher as she moves around the room.  The smell of lavender scented oil floats behind my head.  My own breath is slowing and my body is relaxing, my back is slowly loosening.  Teacher kneels behind my head, gently pressing my shoulders towards the floor, moving to my neck and head, supporting and holding me.  As always, my heart softens and tears form in my eyes.  Is it possible that I do not have to carry it all?  Is it possible that I do not have to be so tough and strong?  Is it possible that the world could hold me in its arms for even a moment and I could let go?
Maybe She's right.  I lay in the hands of a soft and strong Mother who can protect and guide me, who can cry with me without fear, who will help me up, who I do not have to fear.
Teacher moves on to other students and I lay still, soft, warm.  I do not want to move .  I do not want to break the spell. The bell rings.  The namaste is spoken.  I am alone again.  But each time, a little part of me remains soft, hopeful, less afraid, more open to the possibilty.