Coach’s Corner: In Defense of Levity (and Cookies)


There is a rumor going around my kitchen that I may have eaten too many cookies.

I’d like to clarify.


What I am doing is quality control.


Because you cannot—in good conscience—give someone homemade food without personally consuming copious amounts of it first. That would be irresponsible. Possibly unethical.


When I bake for the holidays, I take on a role. A mantle, really. Head of Standards & Compliance.


Each batch must be evaluated for:
Texture (snap vs. chew)
Structural integrity (does it survive the lift?)
Flavor balance (sweet, spice, butter, soul)
Emotional response (does it make you close your eyes?)


This is not casual snacking.
This is diligence.


Take ginger snaps, for example. You don’t just eat a ginger snap. You assess it.

Does it crackle properly when rolled in sugar?
Does it whisper molasses and warm spice?
Does it demand coffee—or merely invite it?


Important distinctions.


Oatmeal cookies are sneakier. They present as wholesome. Dependable. Like they won’t take you down with them. And yet… one moment you’re “just checking the bake,” and the next you’re deeply invested in whether the peanut butter chips are evenly distributed for optimal joy.


Break the cookie in half.
Check crumb, chew, snap.
Eat both halves because… science.


But here’s the real thing I’m measuring — and it has nothing to do with sugar.


It’s levity.

Because somewhere between deadlines, responsibilities, expectations, and the constant hum of doing, we start to forget how much lightness matters. We move fast. We grip tighter. We lose the soft edges that make life feel like something we’re participating in — not just managing.


Levity isn’t frivolous.
It’s regulating.


It’s how the nervous system exhales.
It’s how connection sneaks back in.
It’s how joy reminds us we’re still here.


So yes, some cookies may not make it into the tin. That’s unfortunate. But if losing a few cookies preserves laughter, warmth, and presence in the process… that feels like a fair trade.


Because if we lose our levity in the hustle and bustle, we don’t just lose the fun.

We lose everything that makes it worth it.


So bake. Laugh. Taste-test shamelessly.
Let the cookies be imperfect. Let yourself be human.


And if you need an excuse — you can always call it science.


You’re welcome. 😉