Getting my feet moving again

So I know I don't live at near a beach.  In fact, I live pretty darn far from a beach, but I selected this photo because it shows my feet moving while running barefoot on the beach.

This last year has been not one that was particularly healthy for me.  I worked more than full-time at a Level 1 trauma center while completing my CPE residency.  Working at a hospital alone is stressful, aside from the constant critical self-examination of Clinical Pastoral Education. Additionally, I was in a long-distance relationship, and I got married two weeks before the end of my residency.  Needless to say, exercise was not a huge priority.

My health suffered.  I ate pretty much all my feelings.  I frequently felt tired and sluggish. My sleep suffered. My asthma was dangerously uncontrolled. I was in a car accident that injured my back and prohibited exercise for some time. I ate junk, with just the intent of filling my stomach and moving on to the next thing.  Lack of exercise also did no favors for my mental and emotional health, particularly while working in such an intense environment. And because your thirties are not the same as your twenties, I just can't do that sort of thing to my body anymore and expect to feel good and bounce back.

So, I recently got my feet moving again.  I joined a gym, and have been enjoying immersing myself into physical activity and in breaking a sweat.  I know that a gym is a luxury expense, but I am putting it into a "necessary" expense now, so that it does not have greater costs later in my life.  There is something about the ritual of the gym that helps me to keep regular exercise part of my life.  I have a yoga mat and hand weights and resistance bands at home, and yet, I always manage to find something else to do instead of working out.  The dogs love walking, but that is more of a leisure activity for us, because there is lots of investigating and sniffing that happens when we walk.

Another side effect that appears with exercise is that I feel more connected to my body.  Sometimes I feel like I am an extremely powerful mind unfortunately attached to a body. My mind seems to be running about 10 steps ahead of my body and I rarely connect with myself.  The pure physicality of exercise forces me to be in my body.  Because otherwise I might fall off the treadmill or drop weights on myself.

So here I am, back to slogging it out at the gym most days.  I am not approaching this return to regular exercise as a form of weight loss (although I certainly hope that happens), but rather as a way to return to myself. For the last couple years I have been part of an online group of clergy types and friends who work out and post our encouragement for one another and share our triumphs and our sorrows.  I have been thankful for this group of friends who celebrate with me as I make this return to health.

Sabbath Coffee Tour: Minneapolis, Sovereign Grounds (48th and Chicago)

For today's episode in the Sabbath Coffee Tour, I stopped by Sovereign Grounds in south Minneapolis.  This coffee shop roasts their own beans on site, with the house speciality roast called Turkish Roast. 

I enjoyed a mug of the Turkish Roast (a medium dark blend) along with a gluten free blueberry muffin, made in house.  Both were delicious.  There are a variety of baked goods, as well as quiche, soups, and other light foods.

This coffee shop has a very large indoor playroom, with the intent of being Minneapolis' only family-friendly coffee shop.  It is filled with toys, and seemed to draw a ton of families into the coffee shop.  The coffee shop seating side has a few tables and some armchairs, although not as many as the playroom side. There is free wifi available, although I did not spot any outlets.  Parking is street parking  (can be crowded along Chicago) and mostly one hour.  I parked one block off Chicago, and did not have any issues finding a spot.  Additionally, this coffee shop has a $5 minimum for credit cards.

This coffee shop is quieter than you would think with an indoor playground, more pleasant than blaring music.  The Turkish roast was delicious and I enjoyed my gluten free muffin.  This is an enjoyable place for coffee with a friend, but I would not recommend it for working or quiet time, on account of the playroom, few tables and lack of outlets.

Sabbath Coffee Tour: Minneapolis, Five Watt Coffee (Nicollet and 38th)

Today I embarked on a another stop on my sabbath coffee tour. I visited Five Watt coffee in south Minneapolis. This charming little shop is located at Nicollet and 38th street. Five Watt roasts their own brews at a St Paul, MN roastery as well as Kickapoo Coffee.

I enjoyed The Residency, the Five Watt house blend.  It is a medium roast with a deep flavor, doctored up with some milk and raw sugar. All brewed coffees enjoyed in house are bottomless, which is an added bonus! There is food available (including gluten free!) and an apparently legendary oatmeal bar on Sundays.

The coffee shop was extremely crowded this morning, I was lucky to find a stool at the counter. There seems to be ample outlets, but those seats were all occupied.  But the baristas were extremely friendly and made me feel welcome in the shop. Parking is street parking (a bit tricky along Nicollet) but ample on the side streets.

I spent a pleasant couple hours coloring mandalas while drinking bottomless coffee, and I fit right in among others who were knitting, writing, and drawing.

Five Watt coffee is an unexpected gem in a fun neighborhood.  I will be back to check it out!

Lamb of God, you take away the sin of the world…have mercy on us.

A.Hanson, Minnesota, 2013

I am finding myself singing the Agnus Dei this morning, "Lamb of God, you take away the sin of the world, have mercy on us…"

This morning at approximately 12:21am Eastern time, the state of Georgia executed Kelly Gissendaner.  

Lord have mercy on us all.

My first experience with hearing about the death penalty in my life was when the state of Montana executed a man in 1995.  I remember being horrified with the sensibilities of a child that someone could be put to death by the government for killing someone else.  It just did not make sense to me then, and it still does not make sense to me.

A friend of mine was murdered in 2007 by a random stranger in a suburb of Minneapolis. I was devastated and outraged.  But I did not want her killer put to death, because that was not going to bring Katherine back and it would not honor her memory. The death penalty has tremendous costs, and they are not just financial.

I think about the people who are charged with carrying out executions. The wardens and guards and nurses and techs. The medical professionals who put an IV into the condemned person's body. Who are using the training that was obtained with the intent of preserving life and using it to end another person's life. I think about the person charged with pressing the button on the other side of a wall that will transmit the lethal drugs into the veins of the one being executed. The executor does not see the executed, because if they saw what they were doing, one would hope that they would not be able to do it. I wonder how those people feel at night when they go home from work and caress their spouse and hold their children. If their hands carry the blood of another. I wonder how this weighs on their hearts.

I wonder how the legal team feels and how the judge feels and how the supreme court felt when they denied Kelly Gissendaner's final emergency appeal. How they must feel when upholding the law of the land which is so senseless and horrifying.

I wonder how the family members of the victims feel as they watch an execution. Do they feel relief?  Or do they feel lingering hurt? Are they happy to put this chapter behind them?

I wonder how the family of the condemned person feels.  Do they feel relief as well? Are they weighed down by shame? Do they bury the memory of their once-loved one?

I would not say that I am "pro-life" because that is so politically charged.  I am PRO-HUMANITY. I am in favor of anything that reminds us of how we are all interconnected. I am in favor of preserving life. This extends to abolishing the death penalty, but also addressing the systemic racism and injustices inherent in our legal and penal systems.

Why do we kill people who kill people to show people that killing people is wrong? 

I also remember when I signed my first petition against the death penalty (an Amnesty International petition) at a church event as a high school senior.  And the many that I have signed since. Some days I feel hopeless.  Today is one of those days.  I am inspired by the ministry of Sister Helen Prejean, a Roman Catholic sister who has dedicated her life's work to speaking out against the death penalty.

I understand anger and the desire for revenge. I understand deep grief and hurt. I understand wanting vengeance for death.  But in the end, if death wins, we all lose. And that is why I am singing the Agnus Dei so fervently this morning.

Lamb of God, you take away the sin of the world…have mercy on us.  Mercy on us.  Mercy on us.

Stories from Chaplaincy: Warm and Dead

Late in the afternoon on a winter day a "trauma code" came overhead and through my pager. This case is the singularly most horrifying case that I experienced during my year of residency.  It still haunts me.

A patient was brought in on a search and rescue stretcher.  The EMS team tracked tons of snow into the trauma room. There was so much snow and ice brought in on this patient that the social worker and myself ran to the blanket warmer, grabbing stacks of blankets to place over the floor to prevent the team from slipping. The doors of the trauma room were closed.  Maintenance was notified to crank up the heat to over 85 degrees.  The team who was performing CPR was sweating profusely. I wrapped warm blankets around tearful firefighters and EMTs who were shivering even in the heat of the ED.

They needed to talk.  The patient was found in the water in the mountains. Clothes were frozen. Shoes were frozen. They didn't know who this person was or where they came from or how long they were in the water.

The Emergency Tech came out of the room in tears.  She couldn't start an IV.  She couldn't draw blood. The patient's veins were ice. She laid her head on the counter. A nurse came out of the room.  He said, "the patient isn't dead until they are warm and dead.  The patient isn't warm yet, so they aren't dead."

Warm and Dead.

And so for the next hour or so, rounds of CPR continued on the patient with ice in their veins. It is heart breaking to watch such fervent life-saving efforts. It is heart breaking to watch people who have dedicated their life's work to saving lives to be trying to save an impossible life.

Once a warmer body temperature was reached, resuscitation stopped.

I still don't know how the patient's family knew to come to our hospital. I know I didn't call them, and that was usually my job. I looked for a wallet, but there was none. I think the state patrol somehow notified them.  And also notified a victim's advocate who came to the ED covered in freshly fallen snow.  Such pure snowflakes amid such unrelenting horror.

From the family we learned that the patient disappeared after a call made several days earlier.

But after that, we don't know. Only that the patient was submerged for a few days and somehow their family ended up weeping into my arms.

When I thought of this patient, I could only think of white skin, the color of ice, frozen solid. And of ice in veins. And I would weep for the senseless and horror and aloneness of this death. And I would pray that this person knew some kind of comfort in their last moments out in the elements. And that when they were declared warm and dead, they might know how many techs and EMS workers and nurses and chaplains wept for them in a fluorescent ED.