Uh, that got my attention, I paused during an online training this week. I better get my act together.
The screen said that people with an ACE score of 6 or higher are more likely to die 2 decades prior to people with lower scores. ACE stands for Adverse Childhood Experiences. I’ve known for a couple of years now that my score is an 8.
1. I am astonished by the number of people who don’t know about the ACE study. Here is a link to learn more and to take the quick test: https://www.npr.org/sections/health-shots/2015/03/02/387007941/take-the-ace-quiz-and-learn-what-it-does-and-doesnt-mean
2. Share this information with friends, family, and co-workers so that they will know about ACEs too. This can be helpful as people learn to address or heal personal wounds.
3. Lead with love. People may carry pain around without realizing it. Perhaps you are the kind, patient person that someone needs today.
It’s the weekend and I am house project focused. Our goal is to have the house on the market by November 10. I look forward to a calmer way of life in a few months. With the ACE score reminder I know my mind and body need a better pace in my adult life. My stress level has been too high for too long. I am beginning to understand that taking care of me is an acceptable priority.
3 John 1:2 ~ Beloved, I pray that all may go well with you and that you may be in good health, as it goes well with your soul.
Take care of you,
I saw the train at the top of the hill on two previous trips.
Once again I head toward Cleveland to take a class. Surely I could stop at “that exit with the train restaurant” this go round.
But by the time I finish home duties Thursday there is no way I can make the trip before midnight. Shucks, no train. Hmmm, if I can slip away from the class right away the next day…then maybe. I need to return through Cincinnati before President Trump shuts down the road with his evening visit, and I need to get home to prep walls for paint and visitors.
Post learning on Friday I slip away asap and head to the location I find via Google: Buckeye Express Diner.
Alone and near giddy, I drive up the hill. I ration 30 minutes. I need a late lunch and I crave minutes of peaceful adventure.
“First time?” The man at the counter asks.
I scan the menu posted on the wall and place my order before finding a seat in the train. There is a juke box and TV screen. I opt to look out the window. I take time for slow breaths. I attempt mindfulness.
My server is sweet and attentive. I wonder if people like her know how their random kindness is extra appreciated these days while I am tired and putting together the puzzle pieces of a home move.
The food is good. Yum! I eat half of it. It is just enough.
Time’s up. I am reminded as I exit that there are more good things in the future. There is special seating (with permission) in the caboose area. I make a goal to sit there next time.