As I Get Older, I Don't Want to Go Out

HRH The Queen, Being Adorable

Yes, I am actually down with the kids sufficiently to know that there is now a thing called JOMO – the joy of missing out (as opposed to FOMO - the fear of missing out, she helpfully includes for those slightly less down). JOMO is supposed to encapsulate the pleasure derived from choosing to not participate in the ‘big night out’ that everyone else on your social media feed is posting about. It’s supposed to be a rallying cry for introverts and hermits, who prefer to socialize by having a few people over for dinner rather than go to a music festival; those that would always choose a quiet drink over attending The Burn. But what if you don’t want either? What if you don’t want to participate at all – what is that called? I say JODO – the joy of doing naught. 

I Visual Summary of This Story - How I Practice JODO. Photo by Creative Market

This is how I practice it:

1.  I do a puzzle. On my own. Good god, no, I don’t need your help, thank you very much! That’s not to say someone else isn’t around. I just don’t necessarily choose to interact with them. That’s pure pleasure.
2. I dance around my house in the dark. I don’t mean I flail and jump around to rousing pop tunes, although I have definitely been known to do that too. No. I do ballet. With perfect form. Well as perfect as I can make it at my age.
3. I read a stack of magazines from England. Yes, it’s very specific. Mostly because I don’t want it to be too real. I want to pour over fashion and stories and tales of Her Majesty, the Queen, from the old country. This is time to go outside of myself, just not necessarily outside of the house.
4. I read a book. Obviously.
5. I read a book or an English magazine in a local café. Where I know the owners. And I am left on my own. Except when I’m not, and that’s just because my loved ones know where to find me. So that’s ok.
6. I write stories about my life and my feelings and my madness. And it brings me such pleasure, the act of articulating a thought, in writing. I love to play games with the words as they dance over the pages. And it is bliss.
7. I take a stroll on the prom. Not too fast, and preferably in the rain when no one else it about.
8. I go and look at art. Art is everywhere and plentiful and thrilling and sweet and a gift that I am so grateful my dad taught me to enjoy when I was tiny.
9. I drink tea. I can do most of the above with a cup of tea, but sometimes I just sit and drink tea as a complete activity all on its own. I treat tea with reverence. I thank it for being so good to me. Out loud. I savour its pleasure when it is piping hot, as it cools, and even at the end when it is barely tepid. God I love tea. (As she sips her luke-warm tea and whispers, “thank you dear tea.”)
10. I plan a trip. To familiar places where my loved ones are hidden in cute stone cottages, as well as to foreign lands where I can take a helicopter flip over a landscape that I can’t usually comprehend.
11. I watch a movie. Of course I do this at home in the main. But I also enjoy a trip to the cinema. I don’t snack; I’m just there to watch the film. And hang with a close pal.
12. I eat. Mostly in wonderful restaurants with my best people. This is not socializing, this is fellowship. Mutually appreciating food and life and jokes and life’s BIG ISSUES, as we fill our bellies and our hearts. That’s real fun.