There is balance to be found between jumping in and holding back…
You know that icky feeling that tells you that you’re missing out? The urgent one you get when your friends are meeting at that restaurant in an hour, and though your comfy clothes are calling (and so is that true-crime series on Netflix), you’re pouring yourself into skinny jeans because you’d rather feel like a human Kransky than not be part of the moment?
Yeah, I’ve never had that. FOMO – the fear of missing out – has encapsulated some of the zeitgeist of the past decade or so. With the prevalence of digital media in our lives, we’re involved in everything, all the time, like never before. From glimpses into the daily lives of friends (and strangers) on social media, to the permeation of global news – whether you go searching for it or not – and even the infiltration of fleeting trends, there’s little that we can’t (or don’t) access. And when we’re used to being a part of things, it can be a bit uncomfortable when we feel as if we’re missing out – online, or IRL.
Finding joy in missing out
The thing is, FOMO has never been my MO. In a choice between dressed-up nights out versus pjs and takeaway, I’ll always hit the buzzer for the latter. I guess you could say I sit snugly in the camp of JOMO – the joy of missing out – the antidote to the fear and envy of not being part of something. JOMO prompts us to revel in our absence from social media, away from draining events, and to let go of the need to “keep up”, “go out”, or feel “in the loop”. I was quite proud of my status as a dedicated disciple of JOMO.
… it’s learning to open up now and then, saying “yes” to some of the opportunities I’m blessed with; gently unfurling, and basking in the surprising moments of joy that shine through.
The awe-inspiring event of a Blood Moon and total lunar eclipse? Yeah, I piked out on that to get an early night’s sleep. Cocktails with colleagues after work “just because”? Nope, I’m going to need a legitimate reason, thank you, and preferably a few weeks’ notice (I probably won’t make it). Recently, my team had been planning a gathering, and I sat by and watched with mirth at the to-ing and fro-ing over weeks to get the timing right, knowing full well that no matter where/when/what the event was, I wouldn’t partake.
What am I saying “no” to?
A movie-date was locked in, and when my friend tentatively asked if I’d make it, with the downcast demeanour that suggested she already knew the answer was “no”, something within seemed to tell me that there’d be no joy in missing out on this. Even Henry David Thoreau, the ultimate poster boy for thriving in solitude and the joy of missing out, said: ‘I love society as much as most … I am naturally no hermit.’ By refusing to be a part of something, what was I really saying “no” to?
We probably need to ask ourselves this regularly in the age of always being “on”: How do we balance the need for social participation, friendship, and connection, with the need for a quiet night in, or time away from our screens? There’s a line to walk between choosing not to be part of something and standing in our own way. ‘Nobody is talking about a balance between [FOMO and JOMO] – the middle path,’ says Karthik Srinivasan, a digital communications and marketing consultant. Well, there’s an emerging new phenomenon: NEMO. What is NEMO? It stands for nearly but not fully missing out (whoa, a mouthful). Rather than feeling the uncomfortable pressure that comes with FOMO, or swinging into full recluse mode with JOMO (oops), NEMO is a practised, conscious shift in our mindset and lifestyle.
How to walk the ‘middle path’ between FOMO and JOMO
It might be reducing time spent online – but not cutting it out completely; or only choosing to meet with people who fill your cup; saying “no” to things that might overwhelm you, or impact your health. And in my case, perhaps it’s learning to open up now and then, saying “yes” to some of the opportunities I’m blessed with; gently unfurling, and basking in the surprising moments of joy that shine through. NEMO is mindfulness in what we allow into our lives, and in what we choose to refuse – it is the middle way, a simplifying of our journey, so that we have the energy, and the time, for the things that are truly worthwhile.
That movie-date rolled around, and on my way home I made a decision: my pjs and dinner could wait. I made my way to the cinema. It may seem like a small thing – showing up to surprise friends at a movie – but sometimes the little moments are the most beautiful. Watching their faces glow with smiles at my presence? Well, that felt pretty miraculous – I’m so glad I didn’t miss it.
