Over on All Ages, All Stages, I write about my response to & thoughts on a New York Times article by Paula Span on the effect of self-neglect. The article left me dissatisfied, wondering about the point & curious about what the author thinks can be done in such sad situations.
As the afternoon wore on & the day turned to dusk, what hit home was how corrosive self-neglect is in my own life. Not so much physical self-neglect, although that too - when was the last time I took a walk around the neighborhood, let alone a trek down the Pennypack Trail? But emotional, productive self-neglect.
My brain continues its eerie tendency to pause when it shift into high - and I do little to counterbalance, to develop a better response. The way my adrenalin slumps at moments when it should surge. My self-limiting trait of coming to a full stop instead of amping up "Go, girl, go!" energies. To let time slip through my fingers rather than transform transient moments into a substantial something. Self-neglect.
I couldn't do anything to help my sister or oldest brother out of their physical self-neglect, but I can recognize, acknowledge & bid my own self-neglect, witnessed in my neglect of the wowser things I could be doing, adieu.
Hello, protect succor aid!
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