fomo

FOMO stands for fear of missing out.  

When does one get it? 

Generally, one gets it looking at photos of old girlfriends/boyfriends with their new people, or photos of friends traveling, or photos of everyone hanging out and you couldn’t be there.  

I feel it when I walk into the bookstore and see all these titles in print from grand authors and people younger than me. I feel it when I see pics of babes surfing in the sun while I’m sitting at work. 

FOMO. 

The questions are: 

1. Can I live someone else’s life? Successfully? 

2. Can I go back in time and change things? 

The answers to these questions: 

1. Yes. No.  

2. No. 

Can I live MY life? Authentically, truly, flawed, beautiful?  

Ya. Ya I can. 

I can change my life but, I will always be inside this body—I have lived what I have lived. And my life has been so beautiful. My life IS so beautiful: 

Today, I had a picnic in the park with my sister and my niece and nephew. There were only a few roses left in the garden by where we sat. A wasp flung itself at us and caused momentary hysteria.  After we ate, we curled up inside a cleft of the jungle gym together, all tangled and clammy and happy, hidden from the afternoon sun.

I was presented with cards, the most beautiful birthday cards to match the beautiful, shy, proud smiles, the beautiful bed head, and sun freckles.

This joy amidst the sea of meetings and spreadsheets. The joy amidst the sea of life. My heart bursts with joy at the thought of it. 

FOMO?  Hardly. Where else could I want to be?

Be someone else?  Who else is as blessed as I?