Why Do We Stop Thinking Like Kids?
This question is not a rhetorical one, and I’m not being facetious or cute in asking it. I’m not about to go on a “adulting sucks and so do all adults” rant, even though there is ample evidence right now that adulting does actually suck and we adults do too. What I’d like to point out is something I’ve come to realize after about 15 years of working with wee little thinkers.
When we grow up and become responsible, “mature” adults, we lose something wonderful, and it’s not our lighting-speed metabolism, our ability to sleep on any household surface, or our cherubic dimples. It’s so often assumed that being a big person means thinking like a big person, and that this is somehow “trading up.” But when we concede to this, we unknowingly let go of something incredibly important, something that’s not only useful to us and to the rest of the world, but that also makes us happy. Regrettably, we can’t reverse time, though the fitness , fashion, and cosmetic industry would like us to believe otherwise. There is one vital thing from our earlier years that we can regain, and that’s our ability to think like a kid.
Do you remember being ferociously curious? Were you the kid in kindergarten whose hand popped up of its own volition, who had no interlocutor when it came to “why” questions? For all of us, there was a time when no question was too big, no subject too awkward or weird. Maybe you remember making adults blush or get flustered when you needed to know something right there and then. You couldn’t get enough of new information, new sensations, new conversations. You wanted, no, you needed to know as much as you could about yourself, other people, and the world around you. You needed it like you needed to eat or breathe.
Was there a time when thinking wasn’t hard work, or work at all, but just part of your daily routine, just part of the process of being human? Do you remember being playful with ideas, batting them around like balloons, sticking one to another to see what they made together? There was probably a time when new thoughts felt like cupcake sprinkles, like they belonged on everything.
When was the last time you felt safe and unashamed to admit you don’t know? There was probably a time when it felt quite natural to say it out loud, even in a crowd of strangers. It was clear that you really didn’t know because you were just at the beginning of things, and you had time to learn. Maybe not knowing wasn’t a lonely thing then, because no one your age knew, and you didn’t have a problem calling people out when they pretended they did. Being afraid of not knowing was for silly grown-ups.
If we dig deep enough, can you still find yourself underneath all of the assumptions, prejudices, biases, and frustrations that being an adult seems to pile on? I think if we try, we can scrape away at least a few layers. If we’re honest, and willing to let go of what no longer serves us, what has never served us, it’s possible. We may kick ourselves for letting all this cognitive garbage accumulate, but that’s okay. Kids get to make mistakes and start over, so why shouldn’t we?
It’s not like children are angels. Anyone who has a child or has been around them can tell you that. There are definitely jerks among them. They’re messy, and loud, and they smell funny sometimes. However, most of the things we find objectionable in adults, all the flaws that grown-up learners seem to flaunt these days, have their counterpoint in wee little thinkers. We pride ourselves on growing up, on being mature, and these days, I’m really not sure why. Scratch any of our major problems, and you’re likely to find a lack of curiosity, an unwillingness to listen, or a refusal to be creative. We had all this good stuff going for us as kids, philosophically speaking, and we lost it. Some of us couldn’t get rid of it fast enough.
So, it’s time to go back. The world, broken as it is, needs us to, and bruised as we are, we all stand to benefit individually.
First of all, we need to stop thinking that children are only proto-humans, that they’re somehow deficient in the idea department. Even when little, they are whole, thinking beings with rich and varied perspectives. Their capacity for reason and empathy are there, amplified by an insatiable desire to know, to help, to participate in what it means to be human. We need to invite them into discussions (or try and get invited into theirs), to get down on the floor and see the world from their point of view, to really listen and take them seriously.
Second, we need to stop complain about “adulting”, and then doing nothing to hold onto or recover the younger parts of ourselves. I’m not just talking about the irresponsible, carefree parts, but also the parts that were open and flexible, that wondered and collected ideas like shiny pebbles. We need to gently call each other on bad logic, be willing to shrug our shoulders when we’re not sure, and be brave enough to sit together with difficult questions, to see them as an adventure, instead of as a burden. We can take all the experiences we’ve had over the years and revel in how they’ve made us human, and then we can share them with other curious humans.
The wrinkles will come, along with aches and pains, and taxes, but we can still choose not to “grow up” as thinkers. Our success as human beings may very well depend on it.