Despite dealing with depression and anxiety for most of my life, I’ve done my best to keep myself from being a cynical bastard. And with the state of the world now, it’s certainly not easy. However, I’ve not only kept my head on straight, but even unknowingly masked my ADHD symptoms until I was formally diagnosed at 30.
The secret? Remaining whimsical.
When people hear whimsy, it’s often dismissed as childishness, being unserious and immature, or ungrounded from reality. For me, whimsy has been my secret weapon, allowing myself to have fun with the challenges the Great Game of Life throws at me. Sure, I might look and sound goofy at times but people will always judge so their opinions are often moot.
More importantly, whimsy has not only been a useful healing tool to deal with past trauma, but a way for me to get the dopamine I need to wrangle my ADHD into submission (which is why it took me so long to get a proper diagnosis in the first place).
With everything going on in the world and with younger generations feeling the burden of existential dread grow heavier each week, I figured now’s a good time to talk about whimsy, not just as a tool but as a philosophical construct. By mastering and enjoying your own whimsical activities and laughing at challenges life gives you, you’ll be able to better handle anxiety, depression, and executive dysfunction, giving you more control while letting you have fun doing it.
In this post, we’ll explore the following…
Nihilism vs. absurdism and how whimsy is an absurdist tool to fight existential dread.
How ADHD and executive dysfunction need novelty to keep things moving.
How to use whimsy to re-engage and maintain concentration.
How to conquer decision paralysis by creating your own sense of purpose.
What’s The Point?: Nihilism, Absurdism, and Getting Through the Bullsh*t
When the Great Game of Life seems bleak, it’s all too tempting to fall into a feedback loop of “what’s the point?”
If the world’s on the brink of socioeconomic and ecological collapse, what’s the point?
If no one cares about me or what I’m doing, what’s the point?
If the system is broken, what’s the point?
If I can’t get a job doing what I love, what’s the point?
For most people, especially Millennials and Gen Z, the answer often falls into either nihilistic or absurdist thinking. Both philosophies respond to this question the same: there is no point. But what the nihilist means by this is very different from what the absurdist means.
Nihilism is the philosophy of skepticism; nothing matters because life is objectively meaningless, rejecting aspects of existence including morality, knowledge, and a higher purpose. Where pessimism states the universe is inherently bad and optimism, inherently good, nihilism states that the universe is neither.
Absurdism, on the other hand, is the philosophy of the weird; nothing matters because existence is objectively absurd and irrational and, thus, there’s no objective order to it. While it agrees with nihilism that nothing matters, absurdism acknowledges there are still parts of existence that matter subjectively to us and that we cannot separate ourselves from this, even if we acknowledge the pointlessness of the grander scheme. We then find ourselves in a feedback loop of needing to impose subjective order on objective chaos but, despite knowing that, we still need to do it.
Though these are very, very surface level explanations of two very complex philosophies, the key difference is how a nihilist and absurdist cope with the objective meaningless of existence. A nihilist is content in shrugging; the absurdist relishes in the weirdness of it all.
But it’s through absurdism that whimsy gets its power. If nothing matters, we get to choose what does; because the world is weird, we get to be weird.
By acknowledging that weirdness and tempering it into a useful tool to interact with the world and others, you’ll open up a whole new life while granting yourself jester’s privilege, overcoming obstacles and finding joy in the absurd.
The Whimsical Relationship Between Executive Dysfunction and Novelty
Even if you already know you get to create meaning from the meaningless universe, what do you do when those first few steps overwhelm you? Building subjective structure out of objective abstract nothingness is a tall order all its own. With executive dysfunction (from ADHD or not), it can feel nearly impossible.
Whimsy, however, is one of the best ways to handle this as it’s a great source of novelty, something our brains crave and turn into dopamine to fuel action.
While I’m no doctor, I’ll let someone who is explain what I mean:
The brain regulates our responses to stimulation, and needs to be engaged in order to function well. Optimal arousal enables brains to be alert, receptive, and ready to attend and learn. Well-choreographed executive functions cue the skills necessary for effective response selection. Goal-directed behaviors can be fine-tuned without the distractions of emotions or sensations.
Generally, non-ADHD brains are adequately aroused by the shifting internal and external stimulation of daily life. Regardless of fluctuations in stimulation, those brains can operate with reasonably sustained focus, fueled by the dependable coordination of neurotransmitters. They can self-regulate with relative confidence, and exercise an adequate amount of control over their behavior.
ADHD brains do not adapt as easily; they have their own rules of engagement. They are motivated by their search for optimal stimulation, rather than by what others label as important. Their degree of arousal differs based on whether the request for attention comes from an internal desire or an external demand.
The owners of these brains are not making conscious choices to ignore external demands, although it often appears that way. Instead, internal motivations are intrinsically more meaningful to their brains and, as a result, more dopamine becomes available. Concerns about time or consequences are dwarfed by the pursuit of pleasurable reinforcement. Whether through sensation or hyperactivity, ADHD brains compel their owners to scan the environment for engaging stimulation. When mundane tasks can’t be avoided, ADHD brains may be compromised in their ability to choose goal-oriented responses.
For me, I subconsciously sought novelty in a few ways:
In college, I had a point system to balance tasks I needed to get done vs. rewards I can redeem points for. For instance, half an hour of writing = one point; after accumulating four points, I could have a half hour break to play video games.
To motivate myself to finish chores, I’ve created a nightly ritual of “closing up shop,” not unlike a closing shift at a restaurant where you clean up today’s messes and prep for tomorrow.
In especially lean times, I look at my life the same way I would if I’m playing a hardcore survival game (which is what inspired the whole 0→1BrC series).
When I’m really struggling to focus on which task takes priority, I take cues from The Sims where I balance the tasks against my basic needs. For example, when I first wake up, eating something (food for survival) is more important than showering so even though I might want to shower first, I grab a bowl of cereal instead because, knowing me, I’ll shower and then forget to eat as I go off to the next task.
While these strategies might lean heavily towards ADHD brains, what’s friendly for ADHD is friendly for everyone. For instance, breaking large goals into smaller tasks or looking at a stubborn problem from different angles are great ways to overcome decision paralysis, executive dysfunction, and the anxiety that comes with it.
Adding whimsy into the mix simply makes the process much more enjoyable while giving yourself grace as you deal with the messiness of imperfection in an irrational, absurd world.
Whimsy as a Serious Strategy to be Successful
For any of this to work, you must get over the negative stigma defining whimsy as immature and unserious. Sacrificing the curiosity, creativity, and authenticity we all had as children has all but snuffed out so many fires within adults who’ve subjected themselves to the abuses of jobs they hate controlled by people they despise.
Framed that way, whimsy is a serious tool demanding our respect, allowing us to reconnect with the youthful parts of ourselves that looked at the world with unrelenting optimism.
The formula looks a little something like this:
Think of something you’re interested in and enjoy doing. Let’s say you really like history, especially the medieval era.
Pair it with something that you’re struggling to get through. You’re trying to get your new print-on-demand t-shirt business of the ground.
Augment the obstacle with the thing you enjoy. As you’re designing shirts and working on your digital storefront, listen to some medieval-themed music (bardcore has been my favorite weird genre that scratches that itch; check out Hildegard von Blingin and thank me later) and pretend you’re a clothing merchant eager to sell their fine wares to the masses. You can either do this in private or you can make it your whole brand. Again, you get to choose.
To give you some more ideas, this is how I applied that same framework to some of the examples I shared earlier:
The points system in college came from my enjoyment of strategy games and managing resources and currencies. If I want x, I must spend y; to get y, I need to do these different things. For me, it was less about getting things done but balancing work and play in a way that felt more concrete and having ways to measure how I used my energy.
The “closing shift” ritual came from working in food service. I’ve also learned a few tips and tricks such as mise en place to prep more effectively and day-dotting food to make sure I use and eat leftovers before they go back. Running my kitchen as if I were a chef has kept me engaged (though meal prepping consistently remains elusive… at least for now).
As someone who loves “zero to hero” challenges, the 0 to >1 Bedroom Challenge is exactly that, as I laid out in the first article that introduces that series. As much as struggling sucks, it makes dealing with scarcity weirdly enjoyable and very satisfying as you pull yourself up from rock bottom.
While whimsy does seem silly, all of these examples show a deployment of various useful skills. So what if it takes a little imagination to help glue all these parts together in a compelling enough way to get you to take action and not shrink in front of the Great Game’s obstacles? As long as you’re moving in the direction you want to go, you can walk, skip, frolic, crawl, or cartwheel.
The universe doesn’t care. The trick is to let that absurdist truth free you.
Don’t Let Indecision or Hopelessness Paralyze You
A final word of advice: no matter what form whimsy takes, know that doing something imperfectly is better than standing still doing nothing at all. If nothing matters, you get to choose your path and purpose. Sure, that’s a massive responsibility, but remember, life’s a game. Play it well.
Indeed, you deserve to live a life that fulfills you, engages your creativity and curiosity, provides for you and your loved ones, and gives you control over your trajectory.
So what if taking the unorthodox or silly route is the necessary choice to re-engage yourself with the absurdness of reality? As the absurdist philosopher Albert Camus put it, “accepting the absurdity of everything around us is one step, a necessary experience: it should not become a dead end. It arouses a revolt that can become fruitful.”
How will you, the Great Game’s silliest jester, rebel against its most boring socioeconomic machine?
Be whimsical. Stay weird.
Game in thumbnail: Yakuza: Like a Dragon (Ryu Ga Gotoku Studio)