What the eclipse taught me about FOMO
I’ve got FOMO. It’s not a full-blown affliction, but it sure feels like it at times.
Just this past week I emerged from the cave I must have been living in when I first read about the significance of the eclipse. (I know, I know — how have I missed all of the coverage about this up until this point?) I instantly felt panic. Like I had already missed the event due to lack of planning.
I didn’t have the glasses. They were sold out everywhere. I didn’t have a plan on how, where and with who I’d watch it.
Here I was in Boulder, Colorado a mere few hours drive from total eclipse heaven. Despite having plans on Monday afternoon, and the desire to work on building my business — for a moment I thought about postponing it all. To battle traffic, to sit on the side of the road, and to catch the total eclipse, all on a total whim.
The more articles I read, the more my excitement — mixed with anxiety, grew. I felt that I couldn’t miss out on this special event. Yet, I started beating myself up thinking about how it would have been nice to have planned in advance, to make it a group event to travel North to Wyoming or East to Nebraska.
My mind wandered about the what-ifs. What if I had thought about this earlier so as to rent a plot of land from a farmer for a ridiculous amount of money with other hopeful total-eclipse gazers? What if we shared in a life changing experience together, crying and holding hands? I would then be able to say, “I did it! I saw a total eclipse!”
But then I stopped.
Why was I getting all worked up over something I hadn’t even cared enough to pay attention to the months leading up to it? Did I only care about this because other people did?
It hadn’t been a priority for me yet, so why now in the final hour was I riddled with anxiety and an intense fear of missing out? I had FOMO. Severely. I blamed the media, but really I can only point the finger at myself and the curse of comparison.
I figured I had two options to rid myself of this mental affliction:
- Drop everything and spend 2 days driving to see the total eclipse.
- Keep my existing commitments, and stay in Boulder to see the eclipse at 94% coverage.
There was no right or wrong answer here. The only trick was I had to be okay with the decision I made. I chose #2.
And I had to lean on my husband to keep the FOMO in check the day of. And you know why? MEDIA.
Everyone, and everything I turned to kept telling me I had to see this. That the total eclipse was a once in a lifetime event.
The FOMO crept back in. I had to bop it like the gopher in the game I used to play at Chuck E. Cheese. Only this time the gophers were social media updates.
The eclipse we saw in Boulder was cool, but was it as memorable as the total eclipse? I don’t know. I highly doubt it. But social media certainly made me think I had missed out on a once in a lifetime event.
(Except that I think I can see it in 2024…)
The joy of the day and what we did see (which was in fact awe-inspiring) started to get overshadowed (wow — look at that pun), by the comparing I was doing to other peoples’ experiences.
And that right there is the lesson I keep needing to learn; Comparison is the true enemy of joy.
And yet, it’s never been easier to slide down that slippery path or comparison. We can share just about anything, and so we can compare just about anything.
I’m working on eliminating comparison from my life, and as a result FOMO. What I do. What I have, it’s enough. In my rationale state, I know this. But when I get caught up in the moment of needing to DO MORE, I forget it.
Is the same true for you?
CONCLUSION:
When we compare, we lose touch with ourselves. We don’t honor the present in all its forms — who we are, where we are, and who we are with.
FOMO is directly correlated with comparison and feelings of “not enough” and wanting more.
By consciously stopping, and pausing to reflect on your current state of being — of being enough. It will help create peace, regardless of what you are doing (or not doing).
Simply be.
Replace comparative tendencies for appreciation.
See beauty and excitement for what it is — through other people and with other people.
Do not crave the need to always do or be what others are.
