I especially noticed it during my recent trip to Japan, although it has been around for a while, perhaps even a long time. It being an attitude, an approach perhaps a philosophy. On Naoshima Island I very clearly decided to not do something that everything suggested that I should. It was something that I had really wanted to do and made a lot of effort to be able to do. But I was fine with that. I was fine with not doing it all.

Travelling to see art but not

The visit to Naoshima Island was at the end of an intensive research trip to Japan, exploring options for a possible rowing tour there. The trip was a hectic schedule of travel, meetings with clubs and our tour operator partner plus much time spent looking at water as possible rowing venues. Given the worry whether it was a wise investment of time and money and not knowing if I would be returning to Japan, I decided to treat myself with an indulgence at the end, adding two days that had nothing to do with rowing nor possible tours. 

I love art and have a particular fascination with land art. I often travel to view it. Naoshima has developed into a significant destination for contemporary art, with multiple museums and outdoor sculptures. You may have seen images of Yellow Pumpkin by Yayoi Kusama, perhaps the defining image of the art island initiative. I was excited to go, especially to see more works by James Turrell, whose art I first encountered in Varese, Italy while there also for rowing. 

It was only towards the end of the travels in Japan that I began to focus on the two days in Naoshima and how I would spend the time. I realized that unfortunately our timing was off. We were arriving on a Sunday, with most of the museums closed on Monday, our one full day on the island. Benesse Museum, the original and perhaps most important museum, was the only one that would be open on that day. 

It was a short transition from our ferry docking on Sunday afternoon to getting settled in our accommodation. I was on the go immediately, walking in the warm sunshine to first visit Chichu Art Museum – James Turrell!. Then on to the Lee Ufan Museum (a bit disappointing). Tick tock went the clock but there was still the Art House Project in Honmura to try to squeeze in, especially Minamidera, housing James Turrell’s light experiment. I chased down the free shuttle bus in the museum complex, then hoofed it rapidly to the town. Had to sprint to the separate ticket office and back but squeaked into the last entrance for Minamidera at 4:15. Everything was then closed until Tuesday but we would be gone then. I also saw the pumpkin and the exteriors of more of the art house in Honmura. 

Monday arrived with a shift in the weather. Windy, wet and cold and it would be so for the entire day. It was seriously unpleasant outside. I spent time comparing the opening hours of the Bernesse Museum with the hourly rain forecast, regretting not bringing my rain pants with me to Japan and thinking about ways to carry extra dry clothes and how to make it all work, given the 45 min walk needed to get there in the downpour. In the meantime, I did a bit of reading, poked at some emails, thought about some business decisions and generally started having a nice time warm and dry inside the little apartment. At a certain point I recognized that I did not want to go to the Benesse Museum. Yes, I had come all this way to see this art and here I was choosing not to do so. And I was quite happy about it. I was fine not doing it all. 

Was it laziness? Maybe. Was the desire to stay warm, dry and cozy stronger than the wish to see more art? Definitely. Part of me felt that I should stop being a wimp and just go. (To demonstrate that I am not an inherent wimp I just took a break from writing and enjoyed a long walk in wind, cold and intermittent freezing rain and ice pellets.) I knew that I would likely be glad if I forced myself to go to the museum. But part of me was tired at the end of an intense trip. And I had an amazing, fulfilling time on Sunday afternoon. I had pushed hard on Sunday and did not feel inclined to do so on Monday. Yup, I was content not to do it all, after all. 

Is it JOMO?

It seems that my contentment was the opposite of FOMO or fear of missing out. Sure enough, turns out there is a thing called JOMO or the joy of missing out. Dig a little and there are a variety of definitions including happily saying no to social invitations to stay at home or taking a weekend break from your digital devices or at least not scrolling endlessly through social media on your phone. JOMO is apparently part of being more mindful. 

The more I researched JOMO, the more I didn’t see it exactly matching my feelings and experience. When the American Heart Association produces an infographic extolling the benefits of JOMO and exhorting people to replace FOMO with JOMO, when people are selling courses on how to learn JOMO or when there are screen blocking apps you should buy to stop yourself from scrolling and getting distracted … well it all seems a bit much. Not joy inducing. Perhaps all these instructions could create anxiety and maybe perversely, a little FOMO. I can imagine someone worrying that they are not “doing JOMO right” and afraid that maybe they should have bought that course about it after all. JOMO seems to be measured against others.  Not a personal decision about something and then contentment or acceptance of that reality. Was I more mindful after deciding not to go to Benesse Musuem – nah. Just knew it was the right decision for me at that time.

While thinking about all of this, I dipped into two books from the library. The first I had seen in a bookstore in Kyoto. Wabi Sabi: The Wisdom in Imperfection by Nobuo Suzuki was one of a small selection of titles in English. It caught my eye because a few years ago I had enjoyed reading a children’s book of the same title about a cat. I will keep reading Wabi Sabi in small chunks, with time to reflect, although I am not sure that I buy into all of it. There is also something quite nice about working hard to achieve something compared to others or appreciating an object that really is absolutely perfect. I flipped and skimmed through the second library book and it will be returned very quickly. I had heard previously about The Subtle Art of Not Giving a F*ck by Mark Manson. From my limited understanding , there are elements of wabi sabi in his postion. According to the website: “The Subtle Art is all about coming to terms with all of the inevitable unimportant imperfections in life and then choosing to not give a f*ck about them. It’s about learning how to give a f*ck about the few things that truly matter.” I probably would have read the book and his blog posts in more detail if he had a more expansive vocabulary. 

Another book which I dipped into but did not read – which I am fine about – was Saving Time: Discovering a Life Beyond The Clock by Jenny Odell. This book follows Odell’s first, How To Do Nothing, which apparently encourages us to disconnect from the attention economy to spend time in quietness and contemplation. Does not sound like what I did on Naoshima Island – I didn’t stare at the rain and the wind and contemplate life for hours. I did a little of that but mostly filled the day with a series of small tasks undertaken at a relaxed pace. The concept of paying attention to what you really need, choosing to do it and not feeling obliged or driven to achieve something else is what resonates with me. 

Age has something to do with it

Allegedly we get wiser as we get older. In the fall I contemplated undertakimg a new project in rowing travel that was intriguing. Slowly it dawned on me that this was in fact not what I wanted to do – I couldn’t add it to my already heavy load and try to do it all. Maybe I am a bit worn out from all the pivoting, swivelling, contorting and backflipping through the pandemic. That, by the way, was not FOMO, just basic fear of not surviving. Instead, now I am in the process of making major changes in my business to eliminate some of the things that I don’t enjoy, have more time to do those parts of the business that I like and have less stress. Google explained to me that this is termed “positive aging”. However I don’t think we need to wait to be old or older to find joy in not doing it all.

So why?

Why have I taken the time from doing something else to write this post? I could be stretched out on the sofa with a good book or tinkering in the kitchen with a new recipe or taking advantage of the free Sunday admission at the Winnipeg Art Gallery. Writing is hard and time consuming. But it gives me joy and I will continue to choose to spend the time writing over other things.I don’t have a checklist of things you should do to become fine with not doing it all. I don’t have a course that I am flogging (and I am not feeling any fear of missing out on monetizing my ideas). Not doing it all also gives me joy. I wanted to share my thoughts in case it might prompt others to find the same. Thank you for taking time away from all the other things you could be doing to read to the end.