In a recent mindfulness class, we heard a story about Deena Metzger, author and cultural icon, who dramatically tattooed one side of her chest following a mastectomy, the photo of which generated a famous poster, poem, and book.

Inspired and curious, I searched for this image and discovered much more, including Her Story of how the tattoo came to be (spoiler alert, it wasn’t her initial choice, but one that came after a thwarted reconstruction attempt) and how it factored into the larger context of her philosophy.

More curious, I continued to explore her work, decades of healing, teaching, writing, and activism. And then I discovered she convenes writing circles and that new sessions were starting.

This discovery electrified me as I have been feeling a swirl of stories inside me. Some articulated, some not, some wanting to come out into the light. The budding writer in me immediately reached out to join, with the required letter of intent and writing samples (at present these Sunday Shares).

I received a prompt, thoughtful, and supportive reply from Deena herself, giving me more information about the groups, including that members all had a substantive piece of work they were developing. Did I perhaps have something like that to bring?

The old me might have jumped to seeing this as rejection. This newer me felt affirmed and even honored. Deena Metzger saw my work, responded to what she saw, and acknowledged my aspirations with an offer of future support if I wasn’t ready now. Her gentle assessment felt right and good. I sent back a thankful reply.

And yet, while I was replying, an all too familiar voice kept urging me to reconsider. “You know these circles start now, you won’t have another chance until maybe next year. She’s not getting any younger and neither are you. You were thinking about doing a short one-act play. Tell her that’s what you have to work on.” FOMO, Fear of Missing Out, had spoken.

FOMO is clever. She speaks truth, just not the whole truth. But she was coming up against my new and stronger voice, JABA (Joy At Being Acknowledged). JABA was feeling really good about getting this lovely letter from such a wise woman. She wasn’t in the mood for FOMO’s trickery.

And this takes me back to mindfulness (what led me to Deena in the first place), learning to stay present and allow the next moments to unfold. FOMO’s predictions could come to pass. And yet, would that mean pain? And what else might come to pass if I stopped striving to create something that wasn’t there yet?

So today, I am reading the book JABA ordered, Deena’s, Writing for your life: a guide and companion to the inner worlds and keeping FOMO in her time out.

Here’s to being with your JABA today and this week!