There are two occasions that seem to stimulate our fear of missing out (FOMO): events that are rare and events that everyone we know will be attending. The first is about feeling special while the other is about feeling included.

In my mind, what made the recent display of the northern lights so cool was that it produced both FOMO conditions simultaneously. The large explosions of electromagnetic radiation were considered rare, but they were also widely accessible (at least in some parts of the world).

I enjoy these natural psychological experiments where I can be both an observer and a participant. The San Francisco Bay area, where I live, was particularly interesting because we weren’t expected to get much of a show. It wasn't until people around the world started posting their spectacular images on social media that a frenzy erupted to find a place with enough elevation and darkness to see something photo worthy.

Some planned to drive to the top of Mount Diablo (a trip they acknowledged was a tad dangerous in the dark). Others hoped to sneak past the gates of closed parks to find an area with less light pollution.

For a moment, I thought we were going to need some collective therapy. Posts popped up in neighborhood groups offering suggestions on how to handle the disappointment. My favorite responses turned to humor to cope, like this photo with the caption, “I saw the northern lights guys. In broad daylight no less!”

Personally, for those few nights when the lights might have been viewable, I decided to just look out my northern facing window in the middle of the night and, seeing nothing, return to bed. I still felt a nagging sense of FOMO though, which I thought was particularly odd because I’ve actually seen the northern lights before.

For those who got the full display, I have no doubt it was magical. But there’s no shortage of magic in the world.

I’m growing my first vegetable garden right now, and I wake up every morning excited to see how much they’ve grown. I’m so entranced by these plants, I’m squishing invading aphids with my bare hands.

My gosh, if that isn’t magic, I’m not sure what is.

P.S. My cat Askel the Rascal is hosting a fundraiser to help feed and care for rescued kittens. Because he knows how hard it is on the streets and he believes no kitten should ever be hungry. Like EVER. Fortunately, just $10 will feed a litter of weaned kittens for a day. As an added bonus, he will send a personal thank you to everyone who donates. With a cute photo. Of him. Obviously. He says this is the only thing you should feel FOMO about.

P.P.S. A few of you have written to say you were inspired by my declaration that I’m a writer. If you think you might be a writer too, I highly recommend this FREE 3-hour workshop hosted by my friend and book coach Julie Artz that introduces you to her Story Scaffolding method for planning, drafting, and revising a story. If you dream of writing stories that change hearts and minds, that subvert the status quo, that matter, but you either don’t know how or keep not quite getting there, this workshop is for you. The only catch is that the workshop is tomorrow, May 19, so make sure to register right away if you’re interested.