The Bridge.

I'm in a pencil skirt and heels, lying on the carpet, staring at the ceiling. The lights are low. The room smells like burning sage, which, to my surprise, is invigorating and calming at the same time.  I was just told to close my eyes, and now Vince is walking among us, slowly hitting a little Native American drum.

Boom.

Boom.

Boom.

I've already given myself over to this exercise - in the spirit of listening to those wiser than myself lately when it comes to all things physical, why not absorb the wisdom of someone who is clearly very spiritual? I walked in to this nondescript building in the heart of downtown Camden (teetered would be a better word) into this big, comfortable open space and saw a blanket laid out in front of me covered with stones, some flutes, a drum, some feathers and a bowl filled with something quite suspicious looking that was smoking away. Uh, okay. What the hell am I doing here? Renee, the executive director, kept telling me that I should be "so excited because I'm in for a very special treat."

I'm supposed to be visualizing a cave inside a tree.

Boom.

Boom.

Boom.

I don't think I've ever ACTUALLY done guided meditation. Breathe. OK, at the very least it's relaxing. But my mind won't quiet. We're in a field surrounded by a forest, and an animal makes its way out of the forest. What kind of animal is it? What does it look like? What does it say? My brain leaps rapidly from image to image. Nothing is definitive. I see my dad's face, and he's laughing. I'm pissed at myself for not finding my spirit animal in twenty minutes of meditation. Are my eyes burning? Then we're out of the field, out of the cave, out of the tree, and sitting up.

The teenagers around me are describing tigers with blue stripes, owls, wolves and snakes. They are drawing and scribbling eagerly. Is this real, my first foray into the actual city of Camden? What kind of bratty kids did I grow up with that I expected this group to be cynical and sarcastic? Vince talked about burning sage to cleanse our spiritual aura, which is what surrounds us and makes others like or dislike us, trust or distrust us. These kids know instinct. They didn't roll their eyes when I brushed it all off as hippie bullshit.

But then he said it and I understood, when one girl asked "so plants can heal you? What are those rocks for then?" and he answered:

ANYTHING CAN HEAL YOU.

Anything you choose. If it makes you feel better, if it makes you feel whole, if it makes you feel like a human again, it is a healer. Perhaps it comes in the form of a person but more likely that person is merely a channel, funneling your own misdirected energy right back to you. As it seems lately in my life, all roads lead back to the heavy weights and how they saved my sanity last summer. How the Crossfit box gives off such an aura of love and acceptance and encouragement that you cannot, I repeat CANNOT walk in there without leaving and feeling different. A lift, even when it's failed, gives you something on which to focus your mind when your spirit is broken. A conditioning workout takes you right back to where it really matters - your breath, in, out, in, out. If you feel like you can't go on, just breathe deep for 3, 2,1 and get back under the bar.


Crossfit is meditation for the body, and I do it every day. My physical self is stronger for it. And last night, in this room in downtown Camden where some high school kids got to be quiet with their thoughts for 30 minutes because they never get the luxury of quiet at home, I think I found my spirit.