Let’s face it: adulthood isn’t the walk in the park we imagined as kids. It’s more like running on a treadmill—except someone keeps up the speed while you’re trying to juggle groceries, emails, and the occasional existential crisis.

We run. We run to meet deadlines. We run to pay bills. And when we’re not running, we’re, well, running away—whether it’s Netflix marathons or nursing a drink (or two) at the pub, convincing ourselves that this is “self-care.” But let me tell you, life doesn’t have to feel like this endless hamster wheel. In fact, maybe the key to slowing down lies in the very thing we outgrew: childlike curiosity.

When Was the Last Time You Stopped to Stare at a Ladybug? 

Now, before you dismiss me as overly whimsical, think about it: kids see the world in a way that we’ve forgotten. A toddler will spend 15 minutes marvelling at a ladybug on their hand while you’re yelling, “Put on your shoes! We’re late!” But who’s actually in the wrong here? The kid who’s entranced by nature’s tiny wonders or the adult who’s racing to another appointment they secretly dread?

Children are experts in curiosity. They ask questions—lots of them. “Why is the sky blue?” “Why can’t I eat sand?” “Why do adults always look tired?”” Why they don’t smile? are they angry?” (Ouch.) They live for the moment, fully immersed in the now. Meanwhile, we’re too busy worrying about the next thing on our to-do list to even notice the magic around us.

What Happens When It Rains in India

I love the summer rain in India. Each time it rains, my first instinct is to take my shoes off and dance, run, and slide on the grass. There’s something so freeing, so joyful in letting yourself be drenched and connecting to the earth beneath you. But here’s the thing—whenever I ask people to join me, they call me crazy.

And you know what? I know they want to. They want to feel that liberation, to laugh and splash like they used to as kids. But they’re adults now, and adults shouldn’t do things like that. Or so they believe.

But why not? Why shouldn’t we dance in the rain or walk barefoot on the grass? My grandmother used to tell me to go barefoot as a child, and I loved it. Running on grass, feeling the sand between my toes—it was a kind of joy that warmed my heart and filled me with life. Even now, whenever I get the chance, I take my shoes off, walk, feel the energy of the earth, and let that joy remind me: You’re alive. Life is beautiful.

And it’s not just the rain—I find joy in the little things everywhere. Take the supermarket, for example. Now, I don’t know about you, but when I see a shopping trolley, I never, ever skip the chance to slide and zoom. Embarrassing? Yeah, maybe—for those watching. But for me? It’s pure fun. A little push, a bit of speed, and there you go—gliding down the aisle like a kid who just discovered roller skates. Just make sure you’ve got slippery shoes; otherwise, it’s just awkward running. Try it—it’s so much fun!

Escaping Reality vs. Embracing It

Adults have their own ways of coping with life’s madness. Some lose themselves in endless scrolling, others in overpriced cocktails. But let’s be real: ignoring the chaos or numbing yourself doesn’t make it go away. What if, instead of running from reality, you ran toward it—with the wide-eyed curiosity of a child?

What if, instead of dreading your morning commute, you turned it into an adventure? Notice the way the sunlight dances on buildings. Wonder where that grumpy man on the train is rushing off to. Ask yourself why pigeons walk so confidently when no one takes them seriously.

Being Childlike Is Not the Same as Being Childish

Let’s clear one thing up: being childlike doesn’t mean throwing tantrums at the supermarket (although tempting). It’s about reconnecting with the parts of you that marvel, laugh, and question. It’s about rediscovering the joy in simple things—like jumping in a puddle (yes, even in your work shoes), drawing with crayons, or asking someone, “Why do we do it this way?” instead of blindly following along.

And laughter—that’s one thing I’ll always have, no matter what. I laugh out loud, with my whole heart, and I know it annoys some people. But when I’m happy, I express it. Why should I hide it? And I like to think that maybe, just maybe, my laughter is exactly what someone else needs at that moment.

Your Body and Mind Will Thank You

Ignoring your health—mental or physical—because “there’s no time” is the adult equivalent of covering your ears and yelling, “La la la, I can’t hear you!” Burnout, stress, and fatigue aren’t badges of honour; they’re warning signs. And trust me, no amount of escaping into the latest reality show will fix it.

What will help is slowing down, taking a breath, and asking yourself, “What can I notice today that I’ve been too busy to see?” Maybe it’s the way your coffee smells in the morning. Maybe it’s the laughter of your kids. Maybe it’s realizing that you can step off the treadmill anytime and just… exist.

Final Thoughts: Jump Into Curiosity

Life doesn’t have to be an endless sprint. Pause. Look around. Let yourself wonder. Be amazed. Ask questions. Be like a child—help without overthinking, run without worrying about who’s watching, and look at the sky to find shapes in the clouds.

Be barefoot on the grass. Splash in the rain. Smile at the little things and laugh like it’s the best gift you can give the world—because it just might be.

Life is happening now, at this very moment. Don’t wait to live it. Be curious, be free, and most of all, be you.