Sunday, October 2, 2022

What is JOMO?

Workin' the wig in La Jolla, December 19, 2021 - two days before my last chemo sesh

What is JOMO?

WARNING:  This post is not for type A types.

We were sitting around after performing at an art gallery party in La Jolla, and the boyfriend of one of the bellydancers described his girlfriend as "Queen of FOMO".  Someone asked, "what is FOMO?"  He answered "the Fear of Missing Out," implying that his girlfriend is committed to dance gigs because she doesn't want to miss out on any of them.  Then a woman that was sitting with us said she was the Queen of JOMO.  I asked, "what is JOMO?"  And she happily answered "the JOY of Missing Out."  A-ha!!!

This woman, we'll call her Betty, went on to describe JOMO and how marvelous it was that she was able to live this lifestyle.  "I go to one party a year, and this is it.  I wake up every morning and see how the day unfolds..."  Finding out that Betty also lived in La Jolla, I had to ask "what do you do?"  She went on to say she was retired and that there was a time she lived a completely different life.  "I used to get home, have to pack my bags, and be off the next day.  My life was high stress and scheduled."  She said she was once on an Olympic team and that she also worked "high up" in government.  She was amazed that no one ever told her that retirement would be this wonderful.  She thought I was much younger than her, but I probably wasn't.  

"You've earned it!" I told her.  "Yeah, I did."  She said, almost as if she could finally be comfortable admitting that.  I told her that I was a stay-at-home mom, so I am not quite JOMO'd yet.  She went on to advise me to put a little more JOMO in my life.

It's been months since that night, and I still have been contemplating about JOMO.  The Joy of Missing Out.  I think I speak for most anyone who has been diagnosed with something like cancer, you put things in perspective really quick.  Once you go to that first chemo appointment and the nurse asks whether you have an advanced directive filled out, you realize that you are at that point where the hospital needs to know what your preferences are, just in case...you know what I mean.  Like, who should make decisions for you, just in case.  You know what I'm saying?  Just in case...

To me, JOMO is a more than Me Time.  JOMO is the unknown and the unplanned and it takes trust...in God and self.  This has made me ponder my priorities.  I realize that I need to Marie Kondo my life, you know, deep clean.  I need to look at each part of my life that takes up time and space and ask myself, just as Marie Kondo asks of each piece of clothing from an overstuffed closet, "Does this spark JOY?"  I either hang it back up knowing its true value, or toss it on the mountain of sentimental and useless outfits.  

Marie Kondo, throwing stuff out

The idea of JOMO also is a comfort to people like me who have to miss out on things because of how we are feeling.  It helps to find the JOMO, especially after times of un-wellness, discouragement, and self-pity. I can find joy in the things I get to do...rest, take things slow, pray more, write more, appreciate more.  I know how fortunate I am that "just in case" hasn't taken place.  Other than letting my hair grow, my awareness of what true joy is, even if it means "missing out", is also growing with it.   

Viva JOMO!