I can smell rosemary mint cleaner on my mat as I lie down and wriggle to get comfortable under the soft fleece of a blanket. I close my eyes and attempt to quiet my chattering mind.

I spent the past 60 minutes contorting my body and breathing oxygen into my stubborn, hasn’t done yoga in a year, tissue. I focused on my warrior stance alignment in order to dodge my racing thoughts. Now, as I lie amidst meditating yogis, I no longer have the distraction of the postures to protect me from my fear.  It crawls up beside me and nestles right into my heart.

The teacher’s soft voice encourages us to surrender into the mat and let go of the emotions that we are clinging to. I silently curse her because she doesn’t understand my fear. Then, she suggests that we witness our feelings instead of becoming attached to them. Her inclusive language reminds me that we are all afraid…

An eclectic group of strangers, we breathe into tight lungs and the corners of our fear. Maybe the girl on my right lies in a pool of panic that the fight she had with her boyfriend means that this time it is really over and she has to face life alone. Maybe the man to my left just got a pink slip and is drowning in anxiety about how he will support his wife and two kids.

As I lie here, I work through the logistics of detaching from my fear. I decide that I need something small, easy to carry around, and secure enough to contain it. My Holly Hobbie lunch kit from Grade 1 (which I haven’t thought about since I lost my baby teeth) pops into my mind. Although it seems a bit unconventional, I stuff the confirmation call about my late January surgery, the dread I feel about another recovery, and the uncertainty about my future into that plastic blue and white lunch box and snap it shut.

Then, I sink into the earth and let go. I remind myself that I will have plenty of time to unpack my emotions later. For the next ten minutes, I can relax into the safety of the present moment and know that Holly Hobbie has my back.

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