The FOMO plague returns!

Just before Thanksgiving, last year, I shared a bit about a case of what my wise friend, Yasmin Nguyen of The Joyful Living Project, refers to as FOMO. Or, Fear of Missing Out. Rather like the fear of not being enough, with which many of  us struggle, at least occasionally, FOMO is a plague that returns especially in times of stress or impending change.

I seem to have had another attack.

In one sense, I’m not all that surprised. In a rather odd way, my recent FOMO symptoms may have been both the result of “a bit” of stress in our world and the outcome of a lot of newness.

Here’s what I can tell you… I got all wrapped around the axle again about what to eat, which is kind of ironic, all things considered.

I know a lot about food. Especially the local, organic, sustainably raised kind. I’ve written a couple of food memoirs/cookbooks. I’ve gotten quite adept at juggling some fairly diverse eating patterns in our family. And I’m determined to model food sanity for my girls!

Nonetheless, I found myself hunting, not for new strategies or ingredients so much, as for the answer. Which, in many ways, is generally a trap.

I forgot that we’re all different. I forgot that there are actual limits to what can be accomplished with a magic wand.

And, I forgot that just about everybody with an opinion on the subject of food is trying to sell something.

Supplements, often. Magic fat-melting tea, inexplicably full of things like xylitol. Miracles claiming to make everything easy. Miracles that are often far away from being actual food.

So, I read a lot of books. And spent some money. And got oddly less connected to myself.

All the while, I was learning other door opening things. Things having to do more with paint than with food. With physics and deep wisdom. With the created world. And with profound connections between past and present.

And then one day the new things I was learning began to heal my FOMO plague.

I picked up a book I’d read 10 years or so ago. In Defense of Food by Michael Pollan who, to the best of my knowledge, is only selling books.

Pollan has written a couple of more recent books. I’ll report back when I’ve read them. But, for tonight, Pollan’s three point plan for turning down the shaming, blaming chorus that lives in so many of us about food. Are you ready?

  • Eat food.
  • Not too much.
  • Mostly plants.

That, I can wrap my head around.

Now, before you run screaming to the place with the golden arches, Pollan is not anti-animal protein. (Which would be difficult, to say the least, at my house.)

His focus in on real food. As close to nature as possible. We’re pretty good at that, except when we’re not.

He also makes a strong argument for variety, which way works for me.

And, at the same time, his work is a good reminder that too many absolutes tend to make us cave in and lust after brightly colored things that are a very long way from food and much closer to science projects.

I feel back on track again.

Centered. Calm.

Back to making choices that have integrity for me. That fit with my values. Many of them all at once.

Things seem clearer again.

There’s an enormous pot of bone broth on my stove and all those veg I bought during my well-invested hour on Wednesday have actually been eaten and enjoyed.

Tomorrow, more hunting and gathering.

Tonight, gratitude for things to be learned, even from outbreaks of FOMO. And dots to make!

ps – Just in case you’re intrigued by the Intentional Creativity stuff… here’s a link to a new course I’m really excited about! www.codexcourse.com

 

 

The Perils of FOMO

It’s amazing how fast chaos can sneak up on you!

Or at least how fast it seems once we begin to notice.

I got pretty busy over the last year or so. Mostly good stuff. Learning. Writing. Traveling.

Lots of it was awesome!

Then I came down with a big case of what my wise (and really talented) friend Yasmin Nguyen, at Gratitude Inspired Living,  calls FOMOFear of missing out. (Which feels rather like fear of not being enough.)

I signed up for way more learning than I could keep up with. My e-mail was overwhelming. I wanted to sleep. Or watch Grey’s Anatomy re-runs.

Then, in July, I fell down. Literally. I’m ok, but at the time it was a fairly big deal.

In August, I did it again. Much less of a deal, but still not at all helpful.

About that same time, I began learning about Intentional Creativity. And painting, which is something of a miracle in my world.

Then my friend got sick and I invested a whole bunch of September and October in prayer and presence.

All that learning I had signed up for pretty much went by the wayside. Technically, it’s still there but it has felt buried under all the overwhelm.

Except for the creating and painting. That happened. Slowly, but it happened. And as I painted, I began to learn new things.

My butt hurt less. I found new parts of me.

I woke up. (Though I’m still a fan of napping.)

One day I opened my eyes and realized that a lot of things had gotten away from me.

My sewing table was buried in miscellaneous junk. Dusty miscellaneous junk.

I couldn’t find the tape measure. Or my passport.

My closet was running over with artifacts from lives past.

You get the drift.

It’s getting better these days.

I can actually see the sewing table. And, Wednesday, I’m giving a friend a sewing lesson!

I have a new passport.

A bunch of the old stuff in my closet has been promoted to the “paint clothes” department. A bunch more is headed out the door to new lives in other places.

My freezers are full of bone broth.

Mostly, though, I’m recovering from the fear of missing out.

I have a plan. I’m going with things I believe in. Following my heart kinds of things.

I’ve dumped a bunch of email. My recycling basket is full of catalogs which are full of shiny things I don’t need.

There is space in my world. More would be good, but it’s a start!

There is meditation music playing in my house. The dogs are more relaxed which helps me be more relaxed.

Most of all, I have a sense of where I’m going. I suspect it’s like nowhere I’ve ever been before and that’s ok. It seems a little less chaos makes me feel a bit more brave.

I’ll keep you posted.

Tomorrow, chalk board paint.

And, Wednesday, meet me back here. It’s all about my super simple dry brining process for a fabulous, juicy turkey!

 

 

What if?

Have you noticed how, every now and then, things that appear to have nothing to do with each other cross paths in your awareness and suddenly many things seem different?

It’s been a day like that in my world.

I started out pretty tired, which had more than a little to do with the early morning sounds of a pacing dog. In all likelihood, the same dog who, shall we delicately say, didn’t quite make it outside in time yesterday.

If you imagine Newfoundlands, you may suspect that this was not an experience I wanted to repeat. Hence, my rather frantic alertness far earlier than I had planned.

Blessedly, everyone got where they needed to be.

I, however, have spent a fair portion of my day contemplating where we are in terms of training and whether a couple of recent challenges might have to do with what I experience as a lack of enthusiasm on the part of the furry kids.

There are many variables in that equation.

It’s hot. Scorched toes on morning walks in the shade hot. Suck air conditioning out of the vent hot. Can’t go lie on the deck when you’re in the mood hot.

Then there are meds. Pain pills for one who still limps. Antihistamines for one who still sneezes and scratches.

And the family systems dynamic of going from one fur kid to three in about five months flat.

And the fact that I’m distracted, re-inventing the universe just now.

It’s a lot to sort out. I am the sorter.

Then, a message via the Facebook wizards. The one on the chalkboard above. Courtesy of my friend, Yasmin.

And a question. Or two.

What if by “person” we perhaps mean sentient beings? What if we mean sensitive, perceptive dogs, as well as partners and grandkids? Or goats?

What if I did less anxious stressing and more appreciating?

What if I went about 87 steps further and tried to appreciate my various sentient beings in ways they understood?

I suspect it will take some figuring. And some trial and error.

And, probably, a nap here and there.

It’s a pretty good bet though, that what Sarah perceives as appreciation is going to be different from what Bill perceives as appreciation. (Though there would probably be some common ground in a nice, medium rare ribeye!)

And what about Phoebe and Luther?

And how do I let my girls know how much I appreciate them even when they’re far away?

And what if, maybe just maybe, this is my job?

That, along with continuing to work on the whole “expecting” thing, which is a topic for another day. (Soon!)

I have a first step in mind.

I need to figure out one thing that each of my nearest and dearest sentient beings would experience as appreciation.

Phoebe’s easy. Belly rubs.

The rest of the gang may take a bit of experimenting.

That’s ok.

After that, I need to start consciously, intentionally doing the things on that list.

With enthusiasm. (Read that divine inspiration!)

I suspect more things will appear on the list. That’s ok, too. For today, it feels like quite a start!

 

 

 

Sue Boardman, Certified Intentional Creativity®
Color of Woman Teacher & Coach