Life Isn't Boring, You Just Lack Whimsy
- Shelby Barillas
- Sep 29
- 13 min read
We’ve all heard the old mantra, “Live every day like it’s your last.” But what if, instead, we lived every day as if it were our first?
One rainy afternoon, while scrolling through YouTube in search of cozy background music, I stumbled across a clip titled “Why ‘Live Every Day Like It’s Your Last’ Is Terrible Advice.” It featured author Suleika Jaouad as a guest on The Late Show with Stephen Colbert. In the interview, she spoke about her book The Book of Alchemy, where she frames “creative alchemy” not just as an artistic practice but as a philosophy for living.
She shared how, after being diagnosed with cancer for the third time, a doctor advised her to “live your life like it’s your last.” At first, Jaouad admitted that the advice sounded inspiring, but she pushed back, arguing that this mindset often leads to chaos and recklessness for the sake of fun. When I paused to think about it, she had a point. Suppose I lived every day as if it were my last; in that case, I’d toss any responsibilities aside. Forget work, I’d burn through my savings and max out my credit cards on private jets, luxe getaway vacations, and shopping sprees. I’d buy a farm and adopt as many dogs as possible, spoiling them with toys and treats. I’d build a treehouse in Santorini and spend my last day trying to ride a hot air balloon over the pyramids in Giza. Why bother engaging with the boring parts of life, like bills and doctors’ appointments?
Living with that attitude might feel thrilling in the short term, but to Jaouad’s point, it leaves no room for steadiness, development, or appreciation. Instead, Jaouad offered a gentler, more sustainable perspective: “I had to shift to a gentler mindset, and I’m trying to live every day as if it’s my first, to wake up with that sense of pure, uninhibited creative freedom, that sense of wonder and curiosity.”
That line resonated with me and echoed in my mind as I went on with my day. Not long after, my favorite podcast, Prologues by Mary Skinner, released an episode on “Adding whimsy to everyday life,” sharing her perspective and personal tips.
A few days afterward, I ran into an old coworker, and while we caught up on life updates and restaurant recommendations, they paused midway through the conversation. They asked with furrowed brows and a slight smirk, “Shelby, how are you always so positive?” I chuckled, unsure of how to reply, but finally said, “I live for the little and simple joys of life. It makes everything easier.”
At that point, I couldn’t ignore the theme circling me from all sides. It felt like an invitation to explore what I have intuitively been feeling, that whimsy is a grounding mechanism and a pivotal force in achieving happiness.
I’ll admit that I haven’t always possessed this mindset, but five years ago, I hit one of the lowest points in my life, and I had to relearn the importance of gratitude. I had to rewire my brain to rediscover my love for life again. Now, I cherish all these moments that so many of us often overlook: the birds chirping in the morning as I make my coffee, the perfect amount of sunshine that comes in through my office window during sunset, the earthy smell of the pavement after it rains. Whimsy has become an integral part of my life and creative approach; I’ve even created a character dedicated to it (link here to check it out!).
These reflections bring me to this month’s exploration: How can we infuse whimsy into our day-to-day life and use it as a mindful practice that fosters curiosity, joy, and creative freedom?
What Even IS Whimsy, Anyway?
According to Merriam-Webster’s Dictionary, “whimsy” means “the quality or state of being whimsical or fanciful.” However, that definition feels somewhat uninspiring, and to me, the word encompasses so much more. Whimsy is more than a silly word; it’s a mindset, a lens we choose to look through. To embody whimsy is to invite playfulness into the everyday, letting curiosity guide us through the prosaic, and delighting in small, unexpected moments.
Whimsy isn’t about ignoring life’s stressors or pretending our problems don’t exist. It’s about easing those hurdles by shifting perspectives. Whimsy acts like a pressure valve for our spirits, reminding us that even in the midst of heaviness, we still have access to levity, joy, and charm.
Think of whimsy as a pinch of glitter sprinkled over the ordinary. Your morning coffee can become a tiny ritual of magic. A trip to the grocery store can transform into a scavenger hunt. A busy day of errands becomes a video game-like adventure to see how many side quests and missions you can complete. Suddenly, the boring becomes captivating.
In researching this post, I came across a quote from G.K. Chesterton’s essay Tremendous Trifles: “The world will never starve for want of wonders, but only for want of wonder.” In the simplest terms, the world is overflowing with marvelous things, but we often forget to notice them because we’re too busy chasing the “next big thing.” Chesterton urges us to shift that focus. Instead of looking outward for ever-larger thrills, we can reawaken and reimagine the quiet, familiar things: the rhythm of a cat’s purr, the way shadows dance on surfaces, or the serendipity of hearing your favorite song in an unexpected public setting.
When we cultivate that childlike sense of wonder, we don’t just rediscover simple joys; we also nurture humility, gratitude, and imagination. Whimsy, then, isn’t frivolous; it’s a practice of remembrance. Remembering how to play, how to admire, how to be surprised by life, and reawaken our once inquisitive imaginations.
Adultlike V.S. Childlike
How did we lose our imaginations? Once upon a time, we all had them before adulthood crept in with its bills, deadlines, and endless checklists. Our imaginations ran wild, and our creativity flourished.
Referring back to Suleika Jaouad’s interview, she puts it perfectly: “I’m of the opinion that creativity is a gift that we all have access to as kids. We have such an organic relationship to our creativity…that starts to change as we get creative injuries and it gets knocked out of us as adults.”
Those “creative injuries,” as she puts it, can range from petty paper cuts to deep wounds. The teacher who insisted that we stay coloring inside the lines, the parent who dismissed our drawings as not realistic enough, the peers who laughed at our big dreams and ambitions. Fear, criticism, and pressure all pile up until one day, what once came naturally now feels foreign and out of touch.
Annie Rubinson’s TED Talk Re-Creating: Creativity, Development, and Why We Lose It echoes this sentiment: “We were all born creative, each and every one of us. It’s when we get older that our creativity levels begin to decline.” She points to a 1965 study conducted by researcher George Land, who tested 1,600 children for their creative thinking abilities. The results were astonishing: from ages 3 to 5, 98% of children scored at the level of “creative genius,” but by age 10, that number had plummeted to 32%. Measured again at the age of 15, it dropped again to 12%. Adults? Only 2% scored at that level. This sharp decline suggests something happens early, in school, at home, or through culture, that discourages our natural creative expression.
Think about it: as children, we’re praised when our “good” work meets expectations, whether it’s a drawing, a block tower, or a science project. But when a child’s work doesn’t align with adults’ wants or values, they risk criticism or dismissal. Over time, this teaches kids to fear failure, resist experimentation, and avoid risk —patterns that often intensify and persist into adolescence and adulthood.
Once we grow up, our society doubles down on this. We begin to face various external pressures to meet spurious standards and milestones, prioritizing productivity over leisure. High achievement and performance are rewarded over imagination, and playfulness is dismissed as being “childish.” We begin to equate play and casual fun with wasted time, instead of recognizing them as essential building blocks for personal and mental growth. Responsibilities stack up and become our only focus. Hobbies and self-care become an afterthought, something we tell ourselves we’ll get back to “when there’s time” (spoiler: there’s never time).
Beyond fear and pressure, additional factors also stifle our imagination, including overindulgent screen time, our shortened attention spans, the decline of the arts in educational systems, and a culture obsessed with convenience and instant gratification (each topic deserves its own essay).
Reclaiming play, which I prefer to call whimsy, isn’t about trying to perfect a talent or skill to become the next DaVinci or to write the next bestselling novel. Instead, it’s about giving ourselves permission to have fun and be silly simply for the joy it brings us. Not everything has to meet a metric, be impressive, or have greater meaning. It’s okay to play, to daydream, to doodle, to wonder. Whimsy isn’t frivolous; it’s a way of authentically connecting ourselves to the beautifully complex human experience. As Chesterton expresses, splendor and marvel will always exist, but adulthood has trained us to overlook them.
A Serious Case For Being Silly
Whimsy isn’t being silly for silliness’ sake. It’s a survival tool in a world weighed down by burnout, rigidity, and commercialization fatigue. It allows us to pause, soften, and breathe where everything else is pushing us to grind harder, consume faster, and care less.
We’re so consumed with efficiency and hustle culture that we’ve lost the art of inquisitiveness. You can see traces of this everywhere: in our clothes, which are mass-produced with little thought for longevity or environmental impact. In our homes, the term “modern” is often disguised as minimalist and timeless architecture, but usually means lackluster and uninspired design. It’s even bled into technology, with our social media apps now reducing human connection to likes, clicks, and metrics. The point is no longer about meaning or beauty, but about productivity, output, and profitability. Rules and structure will always have their place, but when they become the only framework for how we live and create, our lives become grey, systematic, and hollow.
Online creator Nicky Reardon captures this perfectly in his video essay The Recession of Creativity. He explains that we are living through a “recession of originality,” where algorithmic safety pushes us toward endless remakes and recycled stories. Companies often prioritize profit over risk, leaving little room for fresh ideas to emerge. In a world like this, whimsy becomes a small but effective act of resistance. It’s how we reclaim novelty in our everyday lives, reminding ourselves that joy doesn’t need permission from an algorithm or the approval of others. Whimsy injects a touch of color, bringing back enthusiasm into our grey lives.
Whimsy doesn’t just brighten our surroundings; it has a direct impact on our brains. The National Institute for Play notes, “play positively impacts the brain, triggering the release of endorphins, reducing cortisol levels, and fostering relaxation.” They also report that playful adults are more resilient, often employing strategies such as reframing or acceptance when confronted with stress. The National Library of Medicine confirmed this in a study during the pandemic. They studied 694 adults and found that those who rated higher in playfulness reported stronger coping skills and lower levels of perceived helplessness. Whimsy (or in this case, referred to as playfulness) doesn’t erase our stress, but it buffers us against it. Whimsy can be considered a mental health tool.
Think of the last time you had a rough day and something small made you laugh right after. Maybe it was a pet’s goofy expression or an inside joke. In that moment, your body loosened, your shoulders dropped, and the world briefly felt a little lighter. I’d consider those moments of whimsy as leaving their subtle yet meaningful influence.
As I approach my 25th birthday, I don’t just want to celebrate getting older; I want to resist getting duller. I don’t want to lose touch with my youth. To combat that, I’m rediscovering my curiosity, seeing it as a strength rather than naiveté or immaturity. I’m choosing to use whimsy as a silent act of resilience against monotony. I’m reconnecting with the interests I once had as a child and welcoming them without judgment or hostility. I delight in the simplest of moments, whether it’s buying myself flowers, doodling on my meeting notes, or laughing until my stomach hurts.
So, that brings us to the following question: how do we actually practice whimsy in real life?
Whimsy in Words and Action
Acts of whimsy don’t always need to be loud or dramatic; sometimes it’s as simple as the language we use. Instead of a plain “hello,” I’ll sometimes greet friends with (Johnny Depp’s) Willy Wonka’s playful line: “Good morning starshine, the earth says hello!” It never fails to elicit a chuckle, but it also reminds me that phrasing can add a touch of shimmer to the ordinary.
In a recent Wild Geese episode titled “How Language Shapes the Way We Think,” host Anna Howard explores how language, culture, and subcultures co-create our mental landscapes. In the episode, she reflects on indigenous wisdom and language, and how their storytelling is rooted in the reciprocity of the land and relational language, referencing the book Braiding Sweetgrass. She asks what if the words we use and the stories we tell reshape how we see ourselves, our communities, and our world, a point also explored by cognitive scientist Lera Boroditsky in her TED Talk. Boroditsky’s research shows that the words we use don’t just describe our reality, they shape it. For instance, she explains that in some Indigenous Australian communities, people use cardinal directions (north, south, east, west) instead of left and right, meaning their entire worldview is rooted in spatial awareness. Other cultures describe time as moving vertically rather than horizontally. She states, “The beauty of linguistic diversity is that it reveals to us just how ingenious and how flexible the human mind is. Human minds have invented not one cognitive universe, but 7,000.”
This means that the language we choose plays a vital role in shaping our awareness and perceptions of time, space, responsibility, and reality itself. By using thoughtful words, we can inspire ourselves and our listeners to embrace new stances. Reclaiming our metaphors and unique expressions empowers us to broaden our perspectives and resist limitations. Infusing a sense of whimsy into our communication not only enriches our conversations but also reminds us to celebrate joy, creativity, and productivity alongside one another.
Try practicing this technique by altering the way you express specific thoughts. Instead of saying, “I have to go to work,” rephrase it to, “I’m going to work to support the life I want to live.” Initially, this may feel awkward or phony, but over time, pay attention to how these small changes influence your mood and overall outlook.
Words are just one entry point. If language has this capability, imagine what else can shift when we intentionally sprinkle in whimsy. From there, it becomes easier to turn that awakening into small physical acts of whimsy in our routines, senses, and choices.
The key to adding whimsy to your life is to act with intention. From the moment you wake up until the moment you go to bed, there are countless opportunities to embrace this idea. The real magic comes from recognizing these opportunities and understanding that your perspective can be transformed through many small actions. This could be something as simple as the way you dress or the habits you adopt throughout the day.
Take mornings, for instance. On days when I work from home, I’ve tried to reclaim them as moments of stillness instead of stress. Rather than jolting awake to a harsh alarm, I use a sunrise clock that slowly brightens the room. On my morning walk with my dog, I might leave my phone behind, say hello to squirrels and trees, or notice how the light catches the leaves. Back home, I’ll play a jazzy lo-fi playlist as I pour my coffee into a “fancy” glass instead of a paper cup. Even swapping sweatpants for an outfit I’d typically save for a “special occasion” makes the day feel like a celebration of simply being alive.
Sometimes, I enjoy watching Pixar and Disney movies or listening to my favorite childhood Hannah Montana songs, even if others might consider me “too old” for them. I often sing off-key in the shower, pretending to be a big pop star performing in concert. I use the broom as my dancing partner while I clean. I like to sprinkle chocolate chips into my pancakes or yogurt. Occasionally, I read children’s storybooks because I appreciate the creative storytelling that teaches important themes, along with the engaging illustrations that accompany them. None of these activities takes much time or effort, but together they change my approach to life.
There is no right or wrong when it comes to whimsy; it’s about permitting yourself to play and feel fully alive! This practice looks different for everyone, so take time to identify what that means to you. What are you naturally drawn to? What fuels you? Embrace the playful mindset and don’t resist it! Find ways to implement it within mini rituals, daily habits, or routines. These gestures might seem insignificant, even silly, but they matter (remember the science). They remind us that we don’t need to wait for grand milestones to celebrate and feel joy. Whimsy is not about extravagance, but about deliberately weaving novelty into the fabric of our lives.
Here are a few of my other favorite playful practices:
Playing dramatic movie soundtracks while working or at the gym
Playing jazz, lo-fi, or cafe music while cooking
Working remotely from a coffee shop and acting like a “main character”
Dressing up like a movie/TV show character and embracing their aura
Drinking regular drinks in fancy glasses
Finding fairy homes when I go on walks with my dog
Playing Harry Potter-themed Pomodoro timers when I’m trying to focus
Wearing the “special occasion” perfume to go do a tedious errand
Create bingo cards to help me complete side-missions, habits, or to-dos throughout my week
Drawing in crayon
Embracing the weather by doing specific activities (Rainy days = bed rotting and eating soup, snow days = hot chocolate with marshmallows and Christmas movies)
Color walks (identifying one item of every color of the rainbow)
Monthly vibe playlist
Leave lovely little notes for people to find randomly
Personalizing things (signature nail colors, perfume, necklaces/jewelry, bags/clothes)
Adult lunchables…enough said
Writing letters and mailing them to people
Final Thoughts
Whimsy invites us to embrace the magic found in the everyday, transforming the ordinary into the extraordinary. I genuinely believe that anyone who overlooks or denies themselves the whimsical aspects of life is missing out on something special. From the joyful play of childhood to the poignant lessons in Braiding Sweetgrass that emphasize reciprocity, and even the thought-provoking insights from TED Talks, a common thread emerges: imagination and creativity are rooted not in mere talent, but in the freedom to explore and discover. It’s about granting ourselves permission to experiment, meander, and delight in whimsical moments that don’t always have to yield productivity. So celebrate life’s enchanting surprises!
If we’ve learned anything from Jaouad, Rubinson, and the quiet wisdom hidden in our forgotten daydreams, it’s that creativity never truly disappears; it simply awaits our attention. The challenge (and the opportunity) lies in choosing to incorporate it back into our daily lives.
What small, whimsical act will you dare to bring back into your day, and how might it change the way you see the world?

Resources & Links Refferenced
Annie Rubinson’s TED Talk: Re-Creating: Creativity, Development, and Why We Lose It
Lera Boroditsky TED Talk: How Language Shapes The Way We Think
Suleika Jaouad | Late Night Show: Why ‘Live Every Day Like It’s Your Last’ Is Terrible Advice
The National Institute for Play: The Importance of Play for Adults
Wild Geese by Anna Howard: How Language Shapes the Way We Think



Comments