Instead of feeling a pang of Why wasn’t I invited? I found myself scrutinizing the images, registering fun being had and noting how amazingly comfy I felt in my PJs/happily ensconced on the couch.
Nope. Never. Not here.
In that moment I concluded not only did I rarely fear missing out on social interaction when contentedly living my life (FOMO), I veered an entirely different emotional direction.
Happiness Over Missing Out.
The feeling of calmhappy one gets knowing others are out doing what they want to be doing and experiencing something you might have enjoyed had you’d gone/been invited but you didn’t/weren’t and that’s quite OK, too (as, apparently, are run-on definition sentences).
HOMO reigns supreme in my second life.
Is this a healthy thing?
Still, I’m uncertain if joy over being excluded (which this tends toward) is a good thing.
If this gentle-to-me approach to life means I gift myself a year of HOMO–so be it.
When we constantly chase the go go go of the social-world we invariably lose our ability to fantasize/consider possibilities of the future.
When we distract ourselves from daydreaming around the potentials of what might be and immerse too deeply in the minutia of the present moment it hinders us from growth.
HOMO is daydreaming. It’s freeing our minds while concurrently controlling/directing our ‘future thoughts.’ As a result, we emerge feeling optimistic and rejuvenated.
HOMO is allowing myself to be bored.
For me chasing interactions/feeling FOMO is an antidote to boredom. A distraction.
In addition, unless it’s an experience I truly desire and time with people I value, FOMO distances me from my feelings.
HOMO can be a scary companion when we choose to slow down and allow boredom to set in. Yet relinquishing control over situations (no people. no plans.) and settling into the ensuing silence provides valuable insight into who we really are and what drives us.
HOMO is check-ins with my social self.
I’ve heard the term loneliness described as social pain.
I’m aware I may be attempting to cocoon through HOMO and too much of anything, including solitude, isn’t good.
HOMO serves as a check-in with the extrovert part of my personality.
HOMO is consciously choosing to live in a manner which energizes and not depletes. It’s honoring my feelings of relief in not having to don a mask, venture into the world, and pretend I’m more OK than I really am.
HOMO isn’t simply finding happiness in not being included, it’s taking the temperature of my social self and adjusting my life accordingly.
At its essence HOMO is a digital and offline detox of sorts and whether it works or sabotages remains to be seen.
- As you go through your days are you more FOMO or HOMO?
- Are you afraid of missing out or do you feel a hit of the happy when not included?