On Whimsy

10.11(Nov).2024. 

I realize that I have this funny mannerism - where, sometimes, I like to sing to myself. (Especially when I'm trying to solve a problem.) Today's current problem: a quest for, not only my phone, but my headphones. 

I often meander around my house, doing 12 things at once, and I’ll set my phone down, forgetting instantly where I've left it. My headphones, on the other hand, frequently get thrown in the myriad of bags that I use for different purposes, resulting in an inevitable hide-and-seek game I don’t really enjoy playing. 

As I set forth on my quest to find these two items, I start by singing to myself (it’s silly - but it works for me). 

That little journey this morning reminded me of when, earlier this year, a friend of mine said to me in conversation, “It seems like you have a lot of whimsy in your life”.  

I laughed because the way they said it, was almost as if they were saying, “how dare you”. How dare I have whimsy, or perhaps how could I possibly have so much whimsy in my life. It felt very skeptical, almost as if it was unbelievable that there could be so much whimsy accessible on a daily basis. 

I thought about that for a second and I realized, yeah. I actually have a ton of whimsy in my life. But only because I choose to cultivate it in every way that I can! 

• Example. When we moved into our current home, I wrote a letter to the house. Yep - you read that right., I wrote the house a letter. I did that because this is our new space and it's going to be holding us for the next… who knows how long. So, of course, I chose to introduce myself to the house via letter. (I'm a words girl, afterall.)

When you have a choice, why not choose whimsy?

I recognize that this statement is loaded with privilege. That reality grounds me in gratitude. To be able to say that, yeah, I do actually have a lot of whimsy in my life and how wildly amazing is that. 

Because…and I don't know if you would agree with this statement, but I generally believe that our world, at least on the surface level, is not super whimsical. 

(Now, I don't mean that in terms of our physical world.  I’m not talking about mother nature. She is the whimsy Goddess. Have you've seen moss? Moss is whimsy defined.  Moss = whimsy.)

What I am referring to is our current climate. The state of our world. I don't think it's a far stretch to say that it doesn't feel very whimsical. So then: is it delusional or is it rebellious that I choose to cultivate whimsy? 

I cannot, alone, change The world. Yet, I can change My world. And I know that in doing that, my actions will change the world around me. And I have to believe, hope, trust, and have faith that that is going to be enough. It has to be enough, because that’s all I can do. (So watch out world, Kelsey is bringing more whimsy to the world.)

Taken in the context of the current state of the world: all You can do, means a lot of things. 

The current state of our world is pretty confusing. (Is that a fair one word summary? I feel like everyone - no matter what - can grab onto some resonance with confusion.)

This week, in particular, no matter where you were in the world, I anticipate, it was a particularly confusing week.

And an emotional one. An emotional one for many. 

I myself have been riding these emotions - because again, that's really all you can do. And I feel as if I’ve been trying to surf this emotional tidal wave and I am NOT a surfer. Don’t get me wrong, I love the water and I identify as an ocean baby, but I ain't no surfer. (I know some pretty badass surfers and even they're struggling). I feel like we're all struggling and we’re all reaching for some kind of lifeline. Seeking something that will help. Something that will make it hurt less. Help us feel less. And I get it, that desire to feel less. But I think it's problematic. 

I think the fact that so many of us are scrambling towards numbness means that there are some pretty big feelings that need to be witnessed in all of us. That’s kind of what I've been working hard on. Working on allowing all of my emotions to be witnessed. 

I don’t think I’ve ever framed it like that before, but that is what I've been working on. How can I allow whatever I'm feeling (and whenever I’m feeling it) to coexist in the space that I am in without it overpowering the situation? Or needing to stamp it down? Or transmuting it into something else entirely? Can I just let it rise and fall. Because it’s a wave, and that's what waves do. (And despite the fact that I don’t identify as a surfer, I can still learn to ride the wave.) That's what I've been working on. 

There have been a LOT of emotional waves this week. More so than usual. And I found myself struggling to swim amongst the confusion of it all. Struggling to grasp why these waves managed to get so frighteningly large. So I reached out for help. (Sorting throught that confusion is a pretty complicated side quest and I needed to bring in some support.) 

Once again - grounded by gratitude every time my network shows up and shines. I had numerous folks reach out, honour my confusion, witness my emotions, and then offer something to help. This week, I was accepting and open to every kind of support. Which means that I was offered (and accepted) information from perspectives that I don't normally digest on a regular day-to-day period. 

Despite being someone who is keen to digest and ingest information in many different shapes, forms, and perspectives; this week I was introduced to numerous ones that I hadn’t heard of, never even considered, didn't know existed. Each of these were extremely helpful and comforting amidst the confusion and that in itself was better medicine than anything I could have chosen for myself. 

This week I chose a lot of medicines to lean on: 

• I danced a lot this week. In my classes, we moved this week to themes of resistance and fire and what it means to just makes indescribable blech face/sound/gesture

• I sang and I drummed. I (curiously) found myself at a cacao/singing ceremony where a group of strangers came together to use voice to transmute. 

• I attended a facilitated heart-opening breathwork ceremony. 

• I laid tobacco. 

• I smoked cannabis. 

• I tried Hapé. 

• I prayed. 

• I offered. 

• I questioned.

• I yelled. 

• I raged. 

• I had tea.

• I took baths with bath salts.  

• I cried. So so many times I cried this week.

And that was all medicine.

I did everything I could and what ended up helping me most was saying, I need help. 

Unsurprisingly help came through in the form of community. That’s what happens when you have a community to support you. And in a world where there are not a lot of people out there right now who feel like they have community, it makes me incredibly, stunningly grateful for my own. (That’s y’all! Because whether you know it or not, now you’re part of the inner circle of beans.)

When I get to reflecting on my community, it brings me back to the dinner we hosted last month. And all the things that we shared, and we talked about and how helpful that time together was. The community we cultivated together. I've been thinking about what informed that event and what allowed it to transpire in the first place. In doing so, I want to share with you some of the things that made it possible for me and at the same time, remind you of something: 

If you can’t listen right now, here’s the gist: 

• Thank you for coming to the table and bringing your whole selves.Thank you for witnessing me and helping support my personal mission.

• If you’re curious to review some of the information resources that helped inspire this gathering, please visit here.

  • I hope that this small gift of my version of “magic beans” brings some whimsy into your life. Some whimsy amidst the confusion. And I hope that these help plant and spark big and small dreams alike in each of you.