The wisdom of children and the power of play

Children say I love you with their whole hearts, without fear of not hearing it back.

They say it with their words, but more often with their actions. If they like you, they want to play with you. They want to spend time with you, share what they’re doing, and simply be with you—here and now. Fully present. No agenda. Just joy.

Children live in the present moment.
They’re not worrying about what comes next, what’s for dinner, or who they’ll play with later. They dive into now with everything they have. And honestly, isn’t that all any of us ever really have?

"Children are not just little people—
they're the wisest teachers we often ignore."

Adults, Regret, and the Myth of Productivity

As adults, we forget.
We take things for granted—time, people, our bodies, our own joy.
We spend so much time worrying: What’s my next step? Am I doing enough? Why do I feel lost?
But what if the answer is simple?
What if the only thing we really need is to be fully present?

Even in the boring things—washing dishes, folding clothes, paying bills.
I remember my time in India, living in an ashram. I had to wash my dishes three times a day. And I hated it. But one day I paused and thought: You’re washing your dishes in India, in an ashram. When will this happen again?
And something shifted.
That moment became sacred.
The magic is always there—we just have to notice it.

"Wash the dishes like you're in an ashram in India.
Because maybe you are—and maybe this moment matters more than you think."

Radical Honesty: What Kids Know That We Forget

Children don’t hide their thoughts or feelings behind polite silence.
If they like you, they’ll tell you. If they think your dress looks strange or your boobs look unusually big, they’ll ask—out of curiosity, not cruelty. They’re trying to understand the world.
And it’s beautiful.

At some point, we begin to filter ourselves. We stop saying what we feel.
We hesitate to reach out to people we love. We wait for the “right” moment that never comes.
But why? Why not send love letters?
Why not tell your friend what you admire about them?
Why not say “I love you” just because you feel it?

You might be lucky, and they’ll love you back.
And if not—you’ll know you lived honestly, without regret.

What Children Have Taught Me

I’ve worked with kids for many years now.
Funny enough, when I was younger, I used to say I hated kids. I thought they were boring and completely uninteresting. But life had other plans—it kept gently (and sometimes not so gently) pushing me toward them. And now, I love it.

I respect kids deeply.
I truly believe that children are the role models adults should have.
I listen to them. I listen to their questions and do my best to understand their perspectives. I don’t dismiss them just because they’re small or assume they don’t know much. I treat them as equals—and in return, they give me love, they care for me, they listen too, because they know I listen.

I don’t have children of my own, and I don’t plan to.
Sometimes I wonder if I would still be so good at working with kids if I had my own. But the truth is, working with children connects me to my own inner five-year-old. It invites me to wonder again—about life, about people, about the little things we adults are often too busy to notice.
It helps me stay present. It helps me stay human.

No Regrets, Just Cake and Laughter

Children don’t regret building sandcastles that get washed away.
They don’t regret baking a cake just because, or painting with no plan.
They follow joy. And if they feel tired, they nap—without shame.

What if we let ourselves live like that?
Eat what our body truly craves, rest when we’re tired, move when we feel stuck.
And most importantly—play.

The Freedom of Play

Play is pure presence.
Whether it’s tennis, paddle, a board game, or hide-and-seek, it pulls us into the moment.
There’s no past or future—only now. The bounce of the ball, the rhythm of movement, the flow of it all. You’re not there to win—you’re there to feel alive.

This is what I love most about playing:
It’s a metaphor for life.
You must be present, alert, in the flow, ready to act when the time is right.
It’s not just for kids. It’s for all of us.

"Play is not a luxury. It’s a way back to presence, to joy, to who we really are."

Imagination Makes the World Better

Children never say no to a game.
They don’t care if they’re “good” at drawing or if their story makes sense—they create just for the joy of it. They let imagination run wild.

And we should, too.

Paint, write, take photos—not to become famous, not to sell something, but to feel something.
To express. To play. To come alive again.
We don’t need to monetize joy.
We just need to feel it.

"Imagination isn’t childish—it’s healing."

Live Like a Five-Year-Old

I try—really, I do.
Life has responsibilities, I know. But I also know this:
If we looked at life like a five-year-old, we’d all be a little happier.

We’d wear what we want.
We’d say what we feel.
We’d play more, laugh more, cry when we need to, and move on.
We’d live without shame, without constant self-censorship.

So next time you’re curious—ask.
If you love someone’s dress—say so.
If you enjoy someone’s company—tell them.

And plan play. Seriously—put it in your calendar.
Dance, play cards, jump in puddles, build Lego castles, laugh for no reason.
Let imagination lead the way.

Because when you do, life feels lighter.
And the right people—your people—will be drawn to that light. They’ll recognise your joy, your honesty, your beautiful weirdness.
And they’ll want to play, too.