I often find myself taking things a little too seriously, especially during the school year. It’s easy to get caught up in the storm that is academic rigor and social events.

In order to have a less stressful semester and lead a more peaceful life, I’m deciding to find pockets of joy and create whimsical moments when I can.

The happiest place on earth may technically be Disney World, but I think the Charles River Esplanade is a pretty close runner-up.

The opportunity to stare at the river wistfully while athletic couples pass you by is one that I think is deeply healing and humbling. Last semester, I had a small gap in my schedule between my last lecture and my shift at work, so I decided to visit the Esplanade during this time.

Those walks taught me about spatial awareness, the human experience and the necessity of connecting with the Earth. If a biker doesn’t almost hit you as you’re walking, you’re probably not doing it right.

I also enjoy writing stories about people I see on the street — particularly those who walk along Commonwealth Avenue.

While sitting in a coffee shop one day, I saw a woman walking a dachshund wearing a yellow sweater. To be clear, the dachshund was wearing the sweater, not the woman.

Anyway, I decided this dachshund was named Stanley because he definitely looked like a Stanley. I also decided the owner was on her way to a bakery to pick up a cake for her best friend’s birthday.

I decided the dog owner is throwing her best friend a surprise party because she mentioned once that she never had one, but had always wanted one since she was a child. The dog owner was also able to get her best friend concert tickets to see her favorite musician.

The owner skips across the sidewalk with her sweater-clad dachshund, excited to see her best friend’s reaction — I might be getting ahead of myself now.

Another method of mine for sucking the marrow out of life is to observe people’s outfits and haircuts. I count the number of Adidas Sambas, cornrows, Trader Joe’s tote bags and mullets I spot in a day — I always hit double digits.

Then there’s the issue of schoolwork and real responsibilities. Yet, just when I decide that working on a problem set or applying to internships must be stressful, I remember that I have free will, and I can create the experience I would like to have.

When I work on an assignment, I put on my headphones and decide that I am in a film about an extraordinary intellectual who’s trying to solve climate change or something important like that. I work like not only my life, but the entire world depends on it.

At this point, it may sound like in order to cope with life, I have to pretend to be somewhere else. This may be a little bit true, but I do find a lot of joy in being present.

I keep a journal to write everything down — the people I ran into that day, what I ate for lunch and passages from the books I’m reading.

We often move through the world unconsciously, not noticing what’s around us. We walk to class on autopilot and maintain our good and bad habits because we feel they are essential.

When you make yourself realize how you spend your time by documenting it, you have access to a part of yourself that you didn’t have before.

The next time you go out into the world, count the number of purple objects you pass by. This could be flowers, socks, notebooks or anything you can think of. You’ll find way more than you think.

I enjoy going on small adventures with friends. We run errands, giggle at inside jokes and end up in unexpected places.

Trains are one of the few places where seriousness and unseriousness exist in such a confined space — and they are a great observation deck for practicing presence and people-watching.

People in suits sit reading important emails on their way to an equally important place. People wearing the aforementioned Trader Joe’s tote bags are on their way to frolic in the city and window shop.

The tote-bag-wearers are gossiping about someone you do not know, but that makes it all the more interesting, so you listen intently because it is fascinating how much people share on public transportation.

Moments of wonder and imagination are integral in leading a whimsical life. In the grand scheme of things, one could argue that there is no point to this.

But why does there have to be?

I recently watched a documentary about Pee-wee Herman because why not, and I’ve fully committed myself to this “Why not?” mentality.

When I feel a sense of seriousness creeping in unnecessarily, I ask myself, “Why not? Why am I afraid to let go of pieces of structure or organization when I know it’s purely there for decoration?”

Don’t get me wrong, not everything follows the “why not” mentality. Why not continue procrastinating and avoid studying for my midterm? Well, nothing’s really funny or whimsical when you receive an exam score that’s less than the number of fingers on your hand.

So, the key here is to locate those pockets of joy. Find the moments in your day when you can have some harmless fun and, ideally, balance it with your responsibilities.

I will admit there is a thrill that comes from being spontaneous when you shouldn’t, but those moments are only thrilling when they happen on the rare occasion, so it’s best to keep them to a minimum when you’re busy.

If the Google Calendar-time-blocking lifestyle isn’t quite working for you, that means you’re a human who craves some silliness, and that’s normal. Embrace your imagination and look for ridiculousness wherever you can — I think that’s the way to a whimsical life.