How to be Whimsical

a gentle survival guide for those who still believe in color

There’s a strange heaviness in the air lately, and I don’t mean just the literal weight of summer heat or political tension or whatever the internet is yelling about today. I mean this grayness, this invisible fog that seems to have blanketed the world not always in the sky, but in us.

We are, supposedly, at the peak of human innovation. Artificial intelligence is writing love letters, billionaires are chasing planets, and you can order a burrito with just your face. And yet… everything around us looks like a concrete parking lot. Have you noticed that?

Every apartment looks as if it were dipped in beige. Phones are just flat screens we stare into. Our clothes are mostly muted tones, chosen for convenience, not expression. Cafés have turned into offices, and everyone’s either doomscrolling or hustling. Even our emotions have been minimized into emojis and “lol.” And the irony? The more advanced we get, the more we seem to forget what made us human in the first place: wonder, imagination, the strange glittery unpredictability of being alive.

This isn’t a rant, though. This is a love letter. To whimsy.
And maybe… a tiny protest.
And maybe… a survival guide.

First, what is whimsy?

Whimsy is the opposite of beige.
It’s the opposite of cynicism.
It’s the gentle, defiant act of keeping your inner child alive even when the world calls it “immature.”

Whimsy means you don’t have to justify why you love a silly song, or why you watch cartoons, or why you find comfort in a worn-out sweater. It’s the permission you give yourself to notice the little moments that make life feel softer, like a cracked sidewalk full of wildflowers, or the way light hits your coffee cup in the morning.

Whimsy isn’t about perfection or style. It’s about holding onto the parts of you that want to be curious, playful, and open-hearted, no matter how old you get or how serious life becomes.

Whimsy is not aesthetic. It’s not curated. It’s not about pastels or vintage filters (though it can be). Whimsy is the joyful refusal to be boring.

Why do we need it now, more than ever?

Because the world is trying so hard to flatten us. To reduce us to productivity machines. To tell us that silliness is a waste of time. We have to be practical, serious, and focused. That joy must be earned.

But joy is not a paycheck. It’s a birthright.
And whimsy is how we access it.

When we were kids, we instinctively knew how to live whimsically. We pretended floor tiles were lava. We built secret worlds out of blankets and chairs. We talked to our stuffed animals like they were real friends. We counted clouds and imagined their shapes were stories. We collected random treasures, rocks, leaves, buttons, and treated them like precious gems. We made up silly songs with nonsense words and sang them loudly when no one was listening. We believed that if we wished hard enough on a dandelion puff, the wish would come true.
And then slowly, steadily, we unlearned it.

Now? We have to learn it again. But that’s the magic. You can relearn whimsy. You just need a guide. So… here it is.

How to be whimsical: a step-by-step guide

This isn’t about overhauling your life. This is about sprinkling color into the cracks. Below are rituals. Tiny rebellions. Small practices that help you remember that you're a human being, not just a human doing.

🥣 1. romanticize the tiniest things

• Stir your tea like you’re in a Studio Ghibli film.

• Fold your clothes with care, like you’re wrapping up a small gift for yourself.

• Pick out spoons like you’re royalty choosing a wand.

• Imagine your umbrella is a shield in a rain battle.

• Light a candle or incense to mark a simple moment, like starting your day or taking a break.

📮 2. Write to invisible friends

• Write a postcard to your future self.

• Keep a list of one-word feelings for the day instead of long paragraphs.

• Leave sticky notes for your past self on the mirror.

• Pen letters to people you love, but never send them.

• Pen a secret note and hide it in your room or a book to find later.

🐸 3. Name your objects

• Give your favorite mug a fun or silly name and say hello to it each morning.

• Create stories about why an object got its name to make it feel special.

🍓 4. Dress with secret flair

• Pin a sticker on your outfit.

• Wear mismatched socks on purpose.

• Put on perfume even if you’re staying home.

• Let your outfit have a “theme” for the day (today? “berry orchard librarian”).

🎧 5. Create your soundscape

• Make playlists for feelings that don’t have names.

• Have a “walking through a foggy dream” mix.

• One for “I’m a detective in 1940.”

• One for “falling in love with life again.”
  (You don’t have to show anyone. This is for you.)

🫧 6. Talk like a storybook character, sometimes

• Greet your plants in French.

• Speak in pirate slang when you do laundry.

• Use dramatic pauses and raised eyebrows.

📺 7. rewatch comfort shows from childhood

• Watch an old cartoon while eating cereal.

• Say the lines before the characters do.

• Let the nostalgia bubble wrap your heart.

💌 8. Collect things no one else notices

• Buttons from clothes you never wore.

• Receipts from days you felt happy.

• Scribbled notes that make no sense anymore.

• Weirdly shaped pebbles.

🌷 9. Make “silly” rules just for you

• Mondays are for wearing rings.

• Every Thursday, you must dance while brushing your teeth.

• Only wear mismatched socks on Wednesdays, it’s the law.

• No serious decisions are allowed after sunset.

• Tea must be sipped with the pinky slightly raised.

• At 11:11, make a wish.

• You can’t do chores unless music is playing otherwise, it doesn’t count.

• At 3:03 PM, no matter what, you get a snack break and a compliment.

🌙 10. Believe in little magic

• Wish on stars.

• Believe the moon is watching over you.

• Let yourself think, maybe the library is enchanted.

• Don’t overexplain. Magic hates logic.

Whimsical doesn’t mean delusional

It’s not about ignoring the world’s problems. It’s about staying alive within them.
It’s choosing to water your inner garden even when there’s dust in the air.
It’s keeping your sparkle when the world gets gray.

Being whimsical is not childish.
It’s child-like.
Which is brave. And rebellious. And wildly necessary.

So please, next time someone says you’re “too much,”
You smile like you know a secret,
and say,
“I’m not too much. I’m just whimsical.”

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