Abuse vs. Neglect

“Abuse doesn’t kill FJs; neglect does.”

Those were his words as dusk settled over the dog park that warm Wednesday. For the automotive-ignorant, “FJ” here refers to a Toyota Landcruiser - the vehicle this gent had spent months repairing, remodeling, and revitalizing.

I couldn’t help but point out the profundity of the sentiment: neglect is a killer, not necessarily abuse. To how many facets of life does this same concept apply?

“I’m not worried about the FJ if I run over a pothole. But if I run over a pothole 10 times and don’t check to make sure the bolt’s tight, I’m going to have a problem.”

The logic is simple enough: care for your belongings. So obvious, so matter of fact. The truth, though, is that the potential for neglect infiltrates virtually every aspect of living. Neglecting health may cause disease. Neglecting work may lead to termination. Neglecting your partner’s needs may end in divorce. Neglecting our own emotions may cause anxiety, depression, or other mental distress.

An overwhelming number of deaths - proverbial and literal - can be attributed to some form of gradual abandonment (often unintentional) rather than a distinct inciting incident. While one may not deliberately stomp through the garden, frequent failure to water the flowers will cause them to wither just the same. 

Insidious in nature, neglect becomes all too easy to overlook. We would never intend to reduce our deepest college friendship to nothing but an exchange of likes on Facebook, but over time, it happens. It’s the gradual lack of devotion or care that invites destruction. We could be abandoning our homes, our friends, our health, even our own mental welfare, without realizing it.

Initially, this idea overwhelmed me as I fell down a spiral of guilt and shame. When put this way, it seems that we are always neglecting something. If I wash my car, I am neglecting the home. If I spend time with one friend, I am neglecting another. If I work too much I neglect myself, if I work too little I neglect my responsibilities.

The antidote, I’ve decided, lies primarily in one thing: prioritization. As humans, we have the capacity to devote attention to a limited number of items at a given time. By prioritizing (and perhaps systemizing) our time, we can allot proper attention to those that support our values. At its most effective, this is done in a spirit of maintenance over repair. Preventative medicine over curative. Rather than waiting for the bolt to fall off, check its security after a few potholes.

The trickiest part, of course, is successfully aligning our lives with those priorities. While I may adore the person who texted me, I often let weeks slip by before responding to the message - not out of malice, but simply lack of prioritization. It doesn’t seem like a “big deal” because it’s “just a text” that I’ll “get to later.” Recurrent offenses over time, though, result in neglecting the friendship. What’s more, the reality is that I’ve texted a number of other people within that time, rendering my excuses completely invalid.

The good news is that, if the act of neglect can interweave itself so effortlessly throughout our lives, so can its opposite. Tending to priorities can be just as seamless when we focus on small, singular steps repeated frequently. Swapping refined sugar for honey in your daily coffee will inevitably have an impact as years progress. Regular acts of care - or lack thereof - can have a larger impact than some elaborate overhaul. Just as a single fight won’t end a healthy relationship, a sweeping romantic gesture won’t repair months of infidelity.  

As the mother of the family I used to au pair for would say, “it’s easier to keep your room tidy than to spend time cleaning once it’s already messy.” This is often easier said than done, and it’s important to note the resistance we feel to certain tasks. Just as we can use priorities to inform our actions, our actions also give insight into what we actually care about. Why do I text one person back quickly and not another? Why can I find time to shop but not clean my car? Why do I watch TV and not read, even though I claim reading as a priority?

Taking a step back to observe where we’re devoting attention can be incredibly illuminating, as we then see where shifts need to happen. I could easily replace a 15-minute Instagram sesh with something in line with my priorities, like stretching. It may not seem like much in the moment, but if done daily would result in 105 minutes spent stretching rather than scrolling - far better for the mind and body. If we can prioritize one thing, we can prioritize another. If I have the time to scroll, I do have time to stretch. It’s simply a matter of making the switch.

I realized the impact of small steps when I began writing a daily journal on a Word document, to which I devote perhaps ten minutes each morning. Ten minutes a day has yielded a currently 1,834 page, 822,002 word detailed account of my life over the past 4 years. It’s hands down one of the best decisions I’ve ever made, because it takes so little time yet produces so many benefits. In those ten minutes, I get my thoughts onto paper, process mental hurdles I’m facing, document my every action, and create a reference for myself of all I’ve done each day since April 19, 2017.

Despite this example in my own life, I still find the concept incredibly challenging to maintain in other areas. I drove the au pair mother nuts with the constant disarray of my closet. Try as I might, her advice never stuck. Similarly, my inbox holds upwards of 10,000 unread emails (mostly spam, mind you). I recognize that clutter has negative effects on my mental health and productivity and have made great strides in keeping things tidy. Yet it’s a daily battle that I must face one item at a time.

I once heard the advice, “if it takes less than a minute, do it immediately” with reference to putting away clothes, responding to emails, and the like. I may not always take heed, but occasionally the words ring in my ears and a stray coat gets paired with a hanger.

So often we get flustered with ourselves when drastic changes don’t happen over night, but the takeaway of all this is simple: they don’t need to. We’re likely not abusing anything. We are, however, very likely neglecting quite a bit.  And neglect kills.

My advice is to start small. Replace one act of neglect with an act of care. Examine where you’re devoting time and calibrate how to adjust. The more we are able to build care and attention into our daily lives, the more generally conscientious we’ll become. The higher our level of conscientiousness, the more habitually we’ll tend to the details that support our values. In turn, the less we’ll risk abandoning the things that matter most.

Treat your priorities like he treats the FJ. Remember that abuse is likely not the issue – it’s neglect.

[originally written March 2021]