“JOMO (noun, Slang): a feeling of contentment with one’s own pursuits and activities, without worrying over the possibility of missing out on what others may be doing.” ~Dictionary.com
My social media and group chats have been filled with happy, smiley travel photos this month. From Japan to New Zealand, K’gari to Broome, Nepal to Bhutan, and many more. Even the algorithm keeps showing me how to fly business class at the cost of an economy ticket. It brings me so much joy – in the comfort of my home – to see friends and strangers exploring nature and culture with their loved ones. Not once I feel any FOMO (fear of missing out), FOBO (fear of better option), or envy like I used to.
It’s been three and half years since my last overseas trip. For four weeks, I wandered solo around Helsinki, Amsterdam, Rotterdam, Antwerp, Brussel, Luxembourg, and Munich. I was awestruck by Vermeer’s Girl with a Pearl Earring and The Milkmaid. I savoured the longest lunch in my life (12 courses for five hours) at The Jane. And I would never forget the unspeakable emotions I felt when I visited the Dachau concentration camp memorial site.
On my flight home, I made a list of places I hoped to travel for the next three years: Estonia, Poland, Slovenia, Portugal, Spain, Morocco, Japan, South Korea, and Taiwan. Within weeks, I snapped up flight tickets on sales to visit Japan with my sister in April 2020.
Back then, all I wanted to do was to travel to as many places as I could while I was “still young” and “earning good money”. That I deserved to “treat myself” as I worked so hard in a “stressful and thankless job”. Like alcohol and other vices, travelling became my escapism in disguise.
In March 2020, the world came to an abrupt halt by a virus. Humans were put on notice by our Mother Nature. Everything was cancelled, including the much-anticipated Japan trip. My daily routine was shrunk down to going to work and staying at home.
Working in the hospital was both a blessing and a curse at the time. It gave me the purpose and structure I needed at the time of extreme uncertainty. But I was also anxiously bracing for the worst of healthcare crises (as seen in other countries) to happen in Australia. I was doing my best to keep calm and address questions from concerned staff. I was worried about the risk of bringing the virus home to my elderly parents. My body and mind stayed hypervigilant all day, every day.
Time outside of the hospital was challenging, too. Social media was full of doom and gloom. YouTube and Netflix became boring and meaningless after a while. Even as an introvert, I felt restless not being able to go out or having anything to look forward to. I felt depressed not knowing when and how the pandemic would end and what it meant to humankind. Spending time alone with my own thoughts and feelings became increasingly unpleasant.
Amidst the hopelessness, I discovered Pema Chödrön, an American Tibetan-Buddhist teacher and author, and her book “When Things Fall Apart: Heart Advice for Difficult Times”. Her words and wisdom were the guiding light in the tunnel that did not seem to end. I was (and still am) most struck by her advice on abandoning hope in difficult times:
“Hope and fear is a feeling with two sides. As long as there’s one, there’s always the other…In the world of hope and fear, we always have to change the channel, because something is getting uneasy, something is getting restless, something is beginning to hurt, and we keep looking for alternatives.”
“Hope and fear come from feeling that we lack something; they come from a sense of poverty. We can’t simply relax with ourselves. We hold on to hope, and hope robs us of the present moment.”
“We’re all addicted to hope—hope that the doubt and mystery will go away. This addiction has a painful effect on society: a society based on lots of people addicted to getting ground under their feet is not a very compassionate place.”
“Giving up hope is encouragement to stick with yourself, to make friends with yourself, to not run away from yourself, to return to the bare bones, no matter what’s going on.”
“If we’re willing to give up hope that insecurity and pain can be exterminated, then we can have the courage to relax with the groundlessness of our situation.”
This was the wake up call I needed to hear.
I used my love for travel as an excuse to stay in a job that was affecting my health. I believed that things would get better as long as I stayed positive and worked hard. I hoped to save up “enough” money so I could work part-time and travel more by the age of 50.
Beneath this hope, there was fear. Fear of financial insecurity. Fear of ill-health. Fear of losing people and possessions. Fear of not being good enough. I got stuck in the scarcity mindset that led to making “safe” decisions and holding myself back from living a healthy and wholesome life.
Deep within a crisis lies infinite opportunities. The pandemic stripped away noises and distractions. It made me take off the mask and armour that I had been wearing. It gave me two years to sit still and listen to my soul talk freely and honestly. It transported me back to my childhood and showed me what made that little girl’s heart sing.
After feeling all the feels plus reading more Pema Chödrön, I have finally stepped out of the sea of hope and fear, pressed the reset button on my life, and moved into the garden of love and abundance that I once thought was impossible.
To my pleasant surprise, I have not needed to do anything special and work extra hard to achieve this state of being. In fact, the less effort I make, the easier it gets. All I have to do is to return to my breath, slow down, and pay attention. Everything goes through their seasons, and every moment is already perfect.
Here is my little JOMO manifesto that is made up of wise words from my favourite teachers and authors:
“When you realize there is nothing lacking, the whole world belongs to you.” ~Lao Tzu
“For everything you have missed, you have gained something else, and for everything you gain, you lose something else.” ~Ralph Waldo Emerson
“If you focus on the known, you get the known. If you focus on the unknown, you create a possibility.” ~Joe Dispenza
“Waking up this morning, I smile. Twenty-four brand new hours are before me. I vow to live fully in each moment and to look at all beings with eyes of compassion.” ~Thich Nhat Hanh
“Be grateful for your life, every detail of it, and your face will come to shine like a sun, and everyone who sees it will be made glad and peaceful.” ~Rumi
“Paradoxical as it may seem, the purposeful life has no content, no point. It hurries on and on, and misses everything. Not hurrying, the purposeless life misses nothing, for it is only when there is no goal and no rush that the human senses are fully open to receive the world.” ~Alan W. Watts
“Nature doesn’t disdain what only lives for a day. It pours the whole of itself into each moment” ~Oliver Burkeman
Bonnie, I enjoyed the depth of your new article very much. You are always so authentic and unafraid to show vulnerability, and yet you are strong person who looks deep within and flows with the answers of her highest wisdom. Beautiful!!!
I'm glad you kept writing it and pushed through the doubts. You are real and open yourself up in all your articles and that's the part I especially value, Bonnie. I value the essence of beautiful you. Love, Melody