I’ve read a few articles, spoke with friends and I may have witnessed it. It’s not a thing we seem to do on purpose. Some folks say they can look back with 20/20 hindsight, and see when it happened. Maybe it started with sickness, someone’s death or maybe it snuck up.
I’m thinking, metaphorically speaking, we jump up every day and sprint all over the place, and then one day, BAM, things are different. No more jumping up and certainly no more sprinting. One of two things might happen. 1) you might think, well, that part of my life is over, and give in to it 2) others may see you struggle, where they didn’t see you struggle before, and pressure you in some way, to quit. The pressure could be in a straight forward way or may come from folks constantly offering to do it for you because you look like you are having a hard time.
But their is another way, jump up slower and sprint slower, and tell folks that want to do it for you, “thanks, but I got it” Maybe you wouldn’t even call it jumping or sprinting. Maybe instead of averaging 3 miles an hour with a stroller, you average 1 or 2 miles an hour. Maybe it’s continued in an electric scooter with a bottle of oxygen on the back. That’s, of course, up to each person.