Stick To Here
Here I am. Here. Right now. Writing this.
From the established fact of my here-and-now-ness, two corollaries are derived. First, that I am not anywhere else. Second, that I am neither in the what-is-next nor am I in the what-was-before.
The fear of missing out is the fear of our own here-and-now-ness, but it disguises itself as a fear of something else. FoMo looks like a fear of missing a primo surf on tubular waves of power made in otherwhens and elsewheres. But that's just chicanery - a trick by which the fear is delivered. Thinking that you fear missing out is a bit like like mistaking the poison for the syringe. FoMo is the syringe. The poison is fear of yourself, of where you are, of what agency you do have.
Surf on your own waves. Paddle if you can't make any. FoMo is how the syringe makers make their living. You are somewhere - where? You are someone - who? Look around. Get the vibe. What do you see out your window?